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junkissed · 5 months ago
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member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!
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they say time flies when you’re having fun.
it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.
but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.
what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.
the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.
you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.
“next round is on me!”
all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.
you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.
you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.
the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.
it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.
it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.
your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”
“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 
"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”
“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”
“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.
"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”
he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."
"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.
he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”
it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.
"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”
your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”
"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"
she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."
jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”
she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.
her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”
she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”
“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”
jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.
she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”
she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”
she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”
you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.
“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”
immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?
"hey, wait, so what does—”
you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.
"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.
"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"
you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"
jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 
with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.
after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 
"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."
"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"
he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"
you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 
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it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.
the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.
his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.
he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.
jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.
he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.
his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.
he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.
your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.
he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 
you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.
the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.
you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.
your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.
his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.
despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 
but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.
jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.
he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.
his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.
you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 
after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.
at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.
you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.
his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 
his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.
he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.
you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.
after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.
you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.
his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.
“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.
now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.
his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.
he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.
“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.
the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.
you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.
“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.
you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.
his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.
you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.
but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.
after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.
he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.
his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.
he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.
“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.
the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”
everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.
“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.
jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.
he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.
the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.
he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.
he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.
“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.
you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”
you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 
you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.
you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.
instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.
you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.
“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”
you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.
jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.
it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.
you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.
jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.
there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.
after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.
“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.
but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.
he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.
and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.
it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.
“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.
“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 
he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.
the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.
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“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”
you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”
“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”
“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”
a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”
you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”
“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”
you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”
“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”
“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.
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jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.
he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.
he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.
and then he sees you.
not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.
he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.
the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.
he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.
“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”
“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”
“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.
mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”
“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.
the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.
mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”
“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.
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you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 
you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.
you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.
“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.
your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.
you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.
he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”
you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.
finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.
“it’s nice to meet you, too.”
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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alygator77 · 9 days ago
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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ
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ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader
ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.
ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse from naoya but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical)
ꨄ words: 10.5k
ꨄ a/n. hello my mhm lovelies :') i've missed writing this fic dearly! please note, this is not chapter 7—however, i will be releasing ch 7 this month. this is just a fun little side chapter with some family domesticity for the autumn season. taking place sometime after reader/satoru become official. ♡
ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)
♬ playlist
series masterlist ꨄ︎
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ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness
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As the crisp autumn air has arrived, it brings with it a feeling of change—and perhaps nature itself is subtly acknowledging just how much your life has shifted.
It’s baffling. Your time in the Gojo estate has been nothing short of eventful—and it feels like just yesterday you stood in front of Satoru, proposing an arrangement that was as unexpected as it was necessary. But now, with the leaves turning a fiery shade of red, orange, and gold, you realize just how quietly and quickly fall has crept in.
And with all this change, your relationship with Satoru has begun to reshape as well—a new chapter, freshly inked. No secrets, no acts—just the three of you, finding your footing in this new arrangement you’ve embarked on.
But one thing hasn’t changed—Satoru simply can’t say no to Haru.
It’s something that’s too cute for its own good—watching him wrapped around her small little finger, treating her like the princess she is. Ahh…but it’s even cuter how he tries to hide it. Satoru has a heart of gold, and though he may use his wit and charm as a mask, you’ve come to see through most of his tricks now—especially when it involves Haru.
And Haru? Well, lately she has really started to become attached to Satoru—in ways that even surprise you. Everything has been ‘toru this - ‘toru that. The trouble with it? Well... ’toru doesn’t have all the experience of handling a kid, let alone a two-year-old. But day by day, he is learning.
Fall is Haru’s favorite season, ironic given her name translates to “spring.” She adores everything about it—the cool, crisp air that calls for cuddles and cozy sweaters, the cinnamon pumpkin treats that have become a staple in the kitchen, and the magic of “spooky season,” as she calls it.
The latest item on her list? A trip to the pumpkin patch.
The idea had come up over breakfast, as you sipped your chai and watched Haru list off her autumn plans with boundless enthusiasm. The moment she had flashed those wide, hopeful eyes at you both, of course Satoru offered to take her—he stepped in immediately and you’d been surprised but delighted by the offer.
And now, you’re embarking on this journey together—off to the pumpkin patch. You head down the stairs of the Gojo’s estate with Haru’s little hand nestled in yours—chattering excitedly about all the things she wants to do and see at the pumpkin patch.
“Let’s find a big pumpkin, Mama! I wanna pet the animals!”
You smile, nodding along, but as you reach the end of the stairs, glancing into the foyer, you’re greeted by a sight entirely unexpected.
Satoru leans casually against the banister, scrolling through his phone, but he’s dressed down in a way you’ve never seen. Gone are his usual tailored suits and designer dress shoes—instead, he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, a pair of well-worn jeans, and, most surprisingly, a black beanie snug over his white hair. The only familiar accessory he wears is that pair of round, dark sunglasses resting upon the bridge of his nose.
Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, he glances up from his phone, grinning.
“Well, look at you, Mr. Gojo,” you smirk, stepping closer. “You almost look…normal.”
A low hum rumbles from his chest as he takes off his sunglasses for a moment, letting you catch sight of that familiar twinkle in his eyes.
“Almost?” he feigns offense, pushing off from the banister. “Aw man, that’s disappointing, considering that this,” he gestures at his outfit, “is premium low-profile attire.”
You snort, reaching up to playfully tug on one of the strings of his hoodie.
“I didn’t realize you had a whole ‘undercover’ look ready to go.”
“Well… yeah,” he leans forward and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Life of a celebrity, sweetheart. Last thing we need is the pumpkin paparazzi swarming us. I’d rather they didn’t ruin Haru’s big day out.”
His words make you pause, a gentle warmth filling your chest at his thoughtfulness—but before you can respond, a tiny voice chimes in.
“‘toru, you look like a spy!” Haru’s small hand grips the fabric of his jeans, her face alight with excitement as she gazes up at him.
Satoru chuckles, turning his attention fully to her. As he crouches down to meet her gaze, his own expression softens.
“A spy, huh? You’re onto something princess.” He gently ruffles her hair. “Alright… here’s the deal. You can be my sidekick, but only if you keep my secret.” He puts a finger to his lips, and whispers. “No one can know who I really am. It’ll be our secret mission.”
“Secret! I won’t tell,” she whispers with utmost seriousness, and her eyes beam with the thrill of this imaginary game he’s now given her.
“Good,” he murmurs, tapping her nose lightly, “I knew I could trust ya, kiddo,” and as he shoots her a wink, she dissolves into a fit of giggles.
You watch them from a few steps away, leaning back against the banister with your arms crossed—a soft smile tugging at your lips. There’s something endearing, almost mesmerizing, about the way Satoru allows himself to be swept up in Haru’s world, and you’re incredibly impressed at how seamlessly he’s growing into this role—this new chapter of his life, and yours. As you catch glimpses of the man he’s becoming, these small, unguarded moments bring forth a version of Satoru that feels both familiar and entirely new.
Just then, Satoru glances up and catches you watching him with that uncharacteristically soft expression. His gaze narrows playfully, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he stands.
“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”
Your smile softens, and the words that leave your lips slip out before you even realize it.
“Who knew dad vibes could look this good on you?”
Ah, fuck. The second the words leave your lips; you feel a heat rushing to your cheeks—you’ve spoken without thinking, letting your admiration for him slip out in a way that feels a little too honest—more vulnerable than you intended—giving him a title—that title. You’re still getting used to this… this new, real relationship that you and Satoru share, and moments like this catch you off guard.
Satoru’s reaction is immediate; his eyes widen in surprise, and for a heartbeat, he simply blinks at you, processing what you’ve said. Flustered, you bite your lip—your gaze darting away for a moment as the heat in your face intensifies. There is no hiding the delicate pink painting your cheeks.
But then, his surprise melts into a grin—a slow, pleased smile that lights up his entire face, stretching into a smirk that’s all too self-satisfied.
“Oh?” his voice drips with amusement. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ‘dad vibes.’”
Stepping forward, he tilts his head—studying you with a newfound intensity, and it becomes very clear that he’s relishing in your flustered reaction.
Ugh. You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed in his response. Clearing your throat, you try to salvage a bit of dignity.
“I, uh… I just mean, y’know… you’re getting the hang of this,” you mumble.
You should know better—that playful glint in Satoru’s eyes tells you he’s not letting you off the hook. His eyes beam with mischief as he leans in close, and you desperately try to advert your gaze.
“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t backtrack now,” he smirks, turning your face to meet him.
The warmth in your cheeks intensifies under his gaze, and his fingers linger, brushing tenderly against your chin. Your breath catches the moment he moves in closer—lips ghosting just over yours.
“I think I could get used to is this kind of flattery…”
You suck in a breath and playfully roll your eyes. “The last thing you need is an ego boost. Don’t get too used to it…”
“Too late,” he whispers back.
Before you can say anything else, a small, impatient voice breaks the moment.
“Mama, ‘toru! Let’s gooo! Pumpkins!” she pouts.
You both blink, snapping out of the moment as you glance down at Haru, who’s now tugging on your hands with eager impatience.
She’s not about to let her pumpkin adventure be delayed by your moment.
“Alright, alright, princess, we’re going,” Satoru chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully. “Besides, I’m not the only one going incognito today.”
Turning towards a nearby table, he reaches for a small shopping bag you hadn’t noticed before, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity as he holds the bag out to you with a smirk. The moment the bag is settled in your hands, you immediately open it—revealing your own matching beanie, followed by a pair of sleek designer sunglasses.
“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”
“Ah, of course,” you muse, grinning at you pull your disguise out of the shopping bag. “Didn’t realize we were going full ‘spy mode’ for this outing.”
Satoru chuckles, but his eyes soften as he watches you slip the beanie over your head and position the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose with a flourish.
“How do I look?” you pose playfully.
“Like the perfect accomplice,” he declares with a grin. “No one will suspect a thing.”
Haru’s face lights up and she claps her hands in excitement.
“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.
The thrill in her voice pulls a laugh from both you and Satoru—she’s completely swept up in this game. Satoru mirrors after you—slipping on his own sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish as he flashes Haru a mischievous grin. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and whispers conspiratorially—as though letting her in on a top-secret plan.
“That’s right, kiddo. It’s a full family mission.”
Haru’s eyes beam with childlike wonder as she nods—putting her finger to her lips again—mimicking his serious expression. Suddenly, Satoru pulls out a set of keys from his hoodie pocket and begins dangling them in front of you with a grin. The silver glints in the sunlight as he places them in your hand.
“C’mon, you’re driving today,” he says with an easy nonchalance.
It takes a moment for you to register that it’s your keys he had set in your hand, and you blink down at them for a moment while he steps towards the door. It’s been so long since you’ve driven your own car that it feels oddly unfamiliar—like a relic from another life.
“Oh, uh… yeah, sure,” you stammer, still caught off guard as you follow him out the door, with Haru skipping beside you—a cascade of excitement as she babbles about today’s adventure.
Once you step outside, your gaze lands on your car waiting in the driveway—a dark blue sedan with a soft, understated shine—a small piece of normalcy you’d left behind in the wake of Gojo's luxury.  It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s always been reliable.
Driving out of the Gojo estate… in your car? It’s a strange, almost surreal concept after all the chauffeured cars and limos that have now oddly become routine. A rush of familiarity surges through you—remembering the simpler times, a glimpse of the life that once belonged solely to you.
While you’re lost down memory lane, Satoru strolls toward the passenger side. He pauses, glancing back to find you standing there—keys in hand, a touch of nostalgia softening you features. His signature smirk settles into place as he leans casually against the passenger door and muses.
“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ve forgotten how to drive? Or…” his eyes narrow with playful mischief as he raises an eyebrow, “are you too fancy to drive your own car now, Mrs. Gojo?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes before striding over to the rear passenger door, where Haru waits—her small fingers clutching the edge eagerly.
“Says the one who never drives,” you shoot back, grinning as you pull open the door. “Mr. ‘Passenger Princess.’”
Your comment earns you a dramatic huff as he places a hand over his chest—pretending to be affronted—though the grin curling upon his lip tells you he’s anything but offended.
“Excuuuse me, but this ‘passenger princess’ comes with premium commentary and a charming smile. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have this level of company in the front seat.”
Shaking your head, you roll your eyes again as you reach down to lift Haru into the car.
“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.
But just as you begin to settle Haru into her car seat, her demeanor shifts—before you know it, she’s twisting in your arms, pressing her hands against your shoulders, all while her little brows draw together in a determined pout.
“No, Mama!” she wriggles free—scurrying down to plant her feet on the ground. You blink the moment she crosses her arms and defiantly declares, “I want ‘toru to do it!”
The request takes you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily speechless. Uhhh… come to think of it, does Satoru even know how to strap a toddler into a car seat? You glance over at him, and he looks equally thrown off—an uncertain smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
You can practically see his internal debate unfolding—he subtly glances between you and Haru—clearly flattered but just as visibly out of his depth.
Oh, Haru. She absolutely adores him—and while Satoru isn’t exactly resisting the role she’s suddenly assigned him, you know first-hand that he’s pretty much clueless with toddler basics. Car seats and sippy cups? Yeah… not exactly his area of expertise.
With a sigh, you kneel beside Haru—a gentle smile on your lips.
“Haru, honey… Satoru doesn’t exactly—"
Satoru clears his throat.
“—uh… sure, I can do it,” he straightens, pushing himself off the side of the car with a nonchalant shrug as he gives you a small, uncertain grin. “How hard can it be?”
A giggle breaks from Haru’s lips as he swoops her up, and her little arms wrap around his neck with delight—but Satoru’s eyes narrow at the car seat like it’s some sort of complex machinery he’s about to dismantle. Oh… this is gonna be good.
He carefully lowers her into the seat, and his brows furrow with intense focus as his fingers begin to slip over the unfamiliar buckles.
“Alright… this goes here… or does it?” he mutters.
Biting back a smile, you marvel at how determined yet adorably out of his element he is—untangling the straps. But as you watch him struggle, you are suddenly struck with the realization of how different this moment feels from anything you have ever experienced in the past.
Naoya? He would never have humored Haru’s whims, let alone spent time trying to puzzle out something as simple (yet surprisingly complicated) as a car seat. No—it was easier for him to hand off the messy tasks of parenting.
But Satoru? Here he was, eyebrows knitted in stubborn determination—refusing to give up on this minor challenge, simply because Haru had asked him to. Each small stumble, each adjustment he makes, only seems to fuel his resolve to get it right.
After a few moments, a sigh of mild frustration escapes him, and he pauses, staring at the tangled straps in front of him in defeat. Finally, glancing over his shoulder, he casts you a sheepish look that’s so uncharacteristically vulnerable it melts you.
“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”
Oh, he’s too cute. He’s trying so hard, and something about it makes you want to lean in and kiss him, just for being so completely, irresistibly endearing.
Stepping forward, you smile softly, inspecting his work with a practiced eye.
“You’re doing great,” you assure him warmly, reaching out to gently adjust the chest clip. “But you’ll want to raise this a little higher—it should be level with her armpits, and maybe tighten it a bit more.”
His eyes focus closely on your hands as you gently guide him through the adjustments, and he nods—carefully stepping back in to finish the task with a newfound confidence.
“Okay, got it.”
Your slight encouragement seems to have spurred his fingers to move more purposefully now. Tightening the strap, he gives it a final tug to check the tension, and with a small huff of triumph, a wide grin spreads across his face as he leans back—admiring his handiwork.
“There,” he announces, sounding both relieved and just a little proud. “One secure kiddo.”
Haru beams up at him, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“Good job, ‘toru!” her voice is filled with an adorable pride, as though she’s the one teaching him.
“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckles, gently closing her door and casting her one last fond look through the window. Then, with an easy stride, he slips into the passenger seat beside you, settling in with an air of satisfaction.
“All right, you two,” you exhale, securing your seatbelt with a satisfying click. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”
After securing his own seatbelt, Satoru’s eyes flicker to yours with playful adoration. He leans back with a contented sigh.
“Yup. And with you behind the wheel, I get the best view in the car,” winking playfully, his trademark smirk appears as he adds, “Ready when you are, Madam Chauffeur.”
ꨄ︎
The pumpkin patch sprawls before you like a painted autumn wonderland. Rows upon rows of pumpkins in every imaginable shape and size dot the field—their bright orange hues glowing under the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun. Rustic wooden signs swing gently in the breeze, directing families to activities like hay rides, corn mazes, and a “Pumpkin Painting Station.” You’re welcomed with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the sweetness of spiced donuts and apple cider—a warm nostalgic embrace of autumn.
Nearby, children dart between the pumpkins, shrieking with laughter as they kick up leaves. Parents snap photos, their laughter joining the symphony of crunching footsteps and cheerful voices. You glance at Satoru, who’s paused just past the entrance—his gaze sweeping across the scene with a mixture of awe and slight bewilderment. There’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, like he’s trying to take in every detail of this unfamiliar world.
“Well?” you ask, nudging him gently with a smile. “What do you think?”
He shrugs, flashing a lopsided grin as he meets your gaze.
“Honestly? I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more… contained?” his eyes flick to a group of kids who’ve just toppled over in a pile of leaves—sending a cloud of autumn colors flying around them.
“Contained?” you echo, a smirk crossing your face. “Satoru, it’s a pumpkin patch, not a black-tie event. Consider it an adventure in rural living.”
He lets out a low chuckle, and his usual confidence is softened by a rare, boyish charm.
“Mmm... well I guess I’m overdue for an adventure like this,” his gaze drifts over the rows of pumpkins—families bundled in scarves and jackets as the haze of afternoon sunlight filters through the trees. His tone dips into something warm, almost tender. “Hard to believe, but I’ve never actually been to one of these before.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”
He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.
“Nah... let’s just say pumpkin patches aren’t exactly a Gojo family tradition…” he chuckles softly, but there’s a bit of sadness coloring his voice as he scratches the back of his head. “I guess most of my autumns were spent in places a bit… less pumpkin-filled.”
His unguarded honesty tugs at something deep within you. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, just how much of a different world he comes from—how even the smallest traditions, like visiting a pumpkin patch, might’ve been out of reach for him.
Without a second thought, you reach over, sliding your hand into his, your fingers curling around his in a gentle squeeze. He looks down, surprise flashing in his eyes, before his expression softens as he meets your gaze.
“There’s a first time for everything,” you murmur softly. “And… now you’ve got Haru and me to show you how it’s done. We’re practically pumpkin patch experts.”
A soft smile breaks across his face, and for a moment, he looks like he’s letting down a guard you hadn’t even realized was there.
“I couldn’t ask for better teachers,” he squeezes your hand back.
Just then, a delighted gasp breaks the stillness as Haru tugs excitedly on Satoru’s hand—her eyes are wide and shining with wonder as she points to a patch of particularly large pumpkins.
“Look, ‘toru! Big ones!” she practically bounces with energy. “Let’s go! Pleeease?”
Satoru’s expression softens even further as he glances from you to Haru, and with a small laugh, he nods—allowing himself to be pulled forward by her tiny but insistent hand.
“Alright, alright, lead the way, pumpkin expert,” he says, casting a quick, affectionate glance back at you—and your heart swells from the way his eyes twinkle with amusement, and maybe, just a hint of gratitude.
ꨄ︎
“This one?” Satoru asks, holding up a pumpkin with a proud grin.
“No!” Haru exclaims immediately, her face scrunched up in disapproval. “Too skinny.”
Satoru raises an eyebrow, giving the pumpkin an exaggerated, doubtful look.
“Too skinny, huh?” setting it down with a sigh, he brushes off his hands—back to square one. “Alright, let’s keep looking.”
He takes a few steps, scanning the rows, and his gaze falls on another pumpkin—rounder this time, but with a bit of a tilt to one side. He bends down to pick it up, then holds it out with a contemplative look.
“Hmm… how about this one? Good color, nice and round—”
“Nope!” Haru cuts him off, shaking her head with a serious frown. “It’s bumpy.”
Satoru sighs—a huff of a chuckle. He places the pumpkin back down with mock solemnity.
“Alright, alright. No bumps, no skinniness. Got it.”
Glancing back, he casts you a quick look—an amused twinkle in his eye as he mouths, she’s tough. Stifling a laugh, you sit back on a nearby hay bale, watching their search unfold with growing amusement. Haru’s standards have always been impressively high, and Satoru, is finally getting a taste of that.
As they wander a little farther down the row, Satoru’s gaze lands on another contender—a medium-sized pumpkin with a perfectly round shape and a smooth surface. Crouching down beside it, he inspects it with all the seriousness of a seasoned pumpkin picker, then holds it out, giving Haru a hopeful look.
“This one? Look, it’s perfectly round and no bumps in sight.”
Haru narrows her eyes, stepping forward and scrutinizing the pumpkin with an intensity that belies her age. A tiny, dramatic sigh escapes her as she shakes her head in disapproval.
“No, it’s not orange enough. Has to be super orange!”
“Super orange,” he echoes with a dramatic nod. “Of course. What was I thinking?” He places it back with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he searches the rows—clearly determined not to give up.
Biting back a smile, you watch him crouch beside her yet again, leaning in close to match her intense expression. Then, he picks up another pumpkin and holds it out in front of her, trying to contain his hope.
“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.
Haru barely spares a second glance.
“Nope! The stem is too small.”
With a defeated sigh, Satoru watches as she continues her search, undeterred and unbothered by his less-than-stellar picks. After a moment, he walks back over to you and plops down on the hay bale—his shoulders slumping in mock exhaustion.
“Is there such a thing as a perfect pumpkin, or am I just doomed to fail here?”
You can’t help but grin—reaching over for his hand. As your fingers intertwine with his, you rest your head gently against his shoulder.
“Oh… I think there’s one out there somewhere,” you murmur, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t give up now, Mr. Gojo. Just think of this as your first lesson in pumpkin-picking perseverance.”
A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest—low and warm.
“Perseverance, huh?” looking down at your joined hands, his thumb brushes tenderly over your fingers, before his gaze lifts to meet yours—there’s a softness in his eyes, a kind of warmth that feels as comfortable as the autumn sun. “Alright… if you believe in me, I guess I’ll keep trying. But if she shoots down one more pumpkin, I might need a pep talk.”
You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.
“I’ll be here, ready with all the encouragement you need. This is serious business, y’know.”
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there’s a spark of determination there as he watches Haru continue her search with relentless focus.
“Serious business, huh?” he mutters, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… far be it from me to let a toddler outdo me.”
Before you can respond, a delighted gasp cuts through the air.
“Mama! ‘toru! I found it!” eyes wide and sparkling, Haru points proudly at a pumpkin nestled snugly in the dirt.
The triumph in her voice makes Satoru’s eyes light up. Standing from the hay bale, his hands nestle into the pockets of his hoodie as he strides towards Haru, with you following closely behind.
“Really now? Let’s take a look at this prize pumpkin.”
Crouching down beside it, Satoru lifts the pumpkin carefully with both hands—as though it’s the crown jewel of the pumpkin patch. His brow furrows with an exaggerated seriousness as he turns it slowly, examining every curve and contour.
“Hmm… yes, I think you’re right,” he declares, voice thoughtful. “This is one smooth, super orange, pumpkin…and just look at that stem!” he taps the pumpkin’s top lightly and flashes Haru a crooked grin. “You’ve got a great eye, kiddo. I’d say you found the best one here.”
Haru’s face lights up with pride.
“Yay!! Look, Mama look!” she beams, her smile stretching from ear to ear—glowing with joy.
Crouching down beside her, you run your hand gently over the pumpkin’s surface. “Wow, sweetie—I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”
You catch Satoru’s gaze holding yours for a moment—a soft smile stretching across his lips—and then, he reaches down to lift the pumpkin effortlessly—cradling it like a treasure.
“So… do we take it home now? Looks like we’ve got our perfect pumpkin, after all.”
You rise—shaking your head with a grin as you hold up a hand to pause him.
“Not so fast apprentice. You didn’t think we’d leave without experiencing the whole pumpkin patch, did you? C’mon, we’ll bring it up front, but check out later.”
Satoru chuckles, shifting the pumpkin under one arm as he raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright. Guess I shouldn’t rush the experts,” his eyes shift to Haru and his smile softens. “So… what’s next on our agenda, sweetheart?”
ꨄ︎
As the three of you stroll hand in hand through the bustling market stalls, the air is rich with the warm aroma of spiced cider, caramel, and freshly baked treats. Each booth is piled high with autumn delights—jars of golden honey, hand-painted gourds nestled among small pumpkins, and cozy knit scarves draped invitingly over wooden displays.
But Satoru’s attention is instantly captivated by the booth ahead—his eyes brimming in boyish wonder as they land on a display of sweet treats.
“Is that cider? And caramel apples?” he exclaims. “Come on, we have to try these,” and he’s steering you both eagerly towards the booth—like a moth to a flame.
You blink—a little surprised by how openly delighted he is over something so simple. But soon, a warm smile breaks across your face, and you can’t help but chuckle softly while he tugs you along.
“You’re like a kid in a candy store right now.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes you a grin so bright, it feels like a burst of sunlight breaking through the autumn clouds. His enthusiasm is contagious, and before you know it, you’re swept up in his excitement.
He eagerly orders three caramel apples and a steaming cup of cider to share. Then, turning back, he holds the treats up with a triumphant, radiant smile—gleaming with delight. Handing the first one to Haru, you watch as she sinks her small teeth into the sticky treat without hesitation.
“Mmm! Yummy!!” Caramel smears her cheeks, but she looks up at you both, absolutely beaming.
Satoru chuckles, reaching down to ruffle her hair fondly before turning back to you. With an exaggerated flourish, he extends a caramel apple in your direction—bowing slightly as he adopts a tone of mock chivalry.
“For you, my lady,” he says with a smirk.
Unable to hold back a grin, you roll your eyes at his theatrics—taking the apple from him.
“Why, thank you, kind sir.”
As you bring the treat to your mouth, the rich sweetness clings to your lips in a sticky kiss. But you can’t resist glancing over at Satoru—and there he is, utterly lost in the simple pleasure of it. He bites into his own apple with unfiltered delight, like it’s the best thing he’s had all day.
A smile pulls at your lips as you watch him—licking a stray bit of caramel from his thumb. He’s entirely unbothered by the sticky mess, but then, as if feeling your gaze, he looks up—catching your eyes with a glint of amusement. A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face, unashamed and utterly charming.
"I didn’t peg you as someone who’d go for something this messy," you tease, taking another bite of your apple as he shrugs.
“You say messy; I say worth it,” he counters.
Your eyes linger on a small smudge of caramel at the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, you reach out—brushing your thumb gently across his lips to clean it away. But just as you begin to pull your hand back, he captures your fingers—holding them in place while his gaze meets yours. His lips curl into a smirk that promises nothing but trouble, and a shiver tingles up your spine the moment he brings your thumb to his lips.
Slowly, deliberately, he closes his lips around your thumb—enveloping the sticky sweetness in his warm mouth while sucking it off with a teasing slowness—leaving you breathless.
“You’re impossible…” you mutter.
Releasing your digit with a soft, tantalizing pop—your breath hitches, and there’s a smug delight in the way he studies you, reveling in the effect he’s stirred within you.
“What can I say?” he hums, licking his lips with a casual ease. “Sweet things are my weakness.”
Your eyes are helplessly drawn to his lips—watching as his tongue glides over his bottom lip, catching the last traces of caramel. For a heartbeat, you can’t look away; his lips look even more tempting than the caramel itself, and something about his self-assured gaze has you feeling flustered and captivated all at once.
“Your weakness, huh?” you breathe, finally managing to lift your gaze back to his, trying to sound nonchalant. “Good to know… I’ll remember that next time you act like you’re above everyone else.”
A rich, low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans in, and the air around you crackles with anticipation as his gaze drops to your still sticky lips.
“You should,” he whispers, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours—a glint of mischief and something softer. “Especially since caramel apples aren’t my only weakness.”
Before you can even catch your breath, he leans in, bridging the small distance between you until his lips hover just a whisper away. His mouth brushes against yours, feather-light at first—a tentative, lingering touch that sends a shiver through you. Instinctively, you find yourself mirroring his movements, returning the kiss with gentle insistence.
As his hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb strokes a slow, comforting line along your cheek, grounding you, though his lips leave you feeling weightless. The kiss is a delicate dance, as intoxicating as it is tender, and you can taste the faint sweetness of caramel mingling with the warmth of him.
Pulling back, his warm breath mingles with your own as he rests his forehead gently against you. His eyes, soft and half-lidded, meet yours, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at his lips.
“You know…” he murmurs, caressing your cheek, “you taste even better than the caramel.”
“Sweet talker…” you mumble, your cheeks warming under his gaze as his smirk widens.
“Mmm, but you’re the sweetest thing here,” he breathes, voice dropping as he draws close again. “But… I think I need another taste. Just to be sure.”
This time, his lips press with a deeper, more assured insistence, moving against yours in a rhythm of warmth and quiet intensity. A low hum of approval escapes him, vibrating softly against your lips, and his hand slides to the back of your neck—fingers weaving through your hair as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.
But just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a small, determined voice slices through the quiet intimacy like a record scratch.
“Hey!” Haru scolds, stern and resolute. “Bad ‘toru! Don’t squish Mama!”
Startled, you both break apart, blinking at each other as you catch your breath. You turn to see Haru standing nearby, her little arms crossed over her chest as she fixes Satoru with an adorably fierce look. Her brows are furrowed in a way that would be intimidating—if she weren’t so tiny.
Oh, Haru.
You exchange a quick, sheepish glance with Satoru, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, reaching down to ruffle her hair in an attempt to defuse her stern gaze.
“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he says, grinning. “Mama’s tougher than she looks.”
Wriggling out of his reach, she stomps her foot with a determined huff.
“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”
Satoru blinks—the corners of his mouth twitching up as he struggles to keep a straight face. Biting back a grin, he raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Right. You got it boss,” he nods solemnly. “I’ll be extra nice.”
There’s a brief pause as Haru narrows her eyes at Satoru.
“Promise ‘toru?”
“Promise.” He taps his chest for emphasis, as if making a sacred vow.
After a long, scrutinizing pause—deciding whether to take his promise seriously—Haru nods, a satisfied “hmmph” escaping her as she plops down beside you with her candy apple in hand.
“No more squishing,” she mumbles around a bite—keeping a wary eye on him.
That’s it—you can’t hold it in any longer. Laughter bubbles out of you, and Satoru glances up, catching your eye with a grin that’s equal parts amused and exasperated.
“Well…” he sighs, as if he’s been given the most impossible mission, “guess I’ve been told.”
ꨄ︎
As the three of you meander through the pumpkin patch, Haru skips along—tugging on your hands and pointing out each new discovery in delight—a scarecrow with a tilted hat, a butterfly fluttering briefly on a tall stalk of corn, a perfectly round pumpkin nestled under twisting vines.
Then, bouncing on her toes, she points toward a massive, lumbering tractor—its green paint chipped and worn, but still carrying an undeniable charm.
“Look, ‘toru! I wanna ride it!” she exclaims.
As Satoru’s eyes narrow on the rumbling machine, you can see the gears turning in his head. Him—a man of luxury and refinement, clambering onto a dusty old tractor?
But after one look at Haru’s eager face, his resolve crumbles.
And of course, moments later, he’s perched on a bale of hay—Haru bouncing with delight on his lap as the tractor lurches to life. The wheels crunch over the fallen leaves, and Haru chatters happily, pointing out every bump and turn in the ride—blissfully unaware of the incongruity of a billionaire on a hay bale.
After the bumpy ride, the petting zoo became Haru’s next paradise. Dashing from pen to pen, her tiny hands pressed against each fence—pointing at each animal with wide-eyed wonder—calling out, “Look, Mama! Look, ‘toru!”
Each discovery sends her gazing up at Satoru with curious eyes, expecting him to know everything about each creature, and he humors her with a quiet patience—kneeling down beside her to answer her endless questions with a tender fondness that tugs at your heart.
But as you’re savoring this rare, serene moment, you feel a subtle shift in the air. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a woman a few feet away, dressed in a cozy autumn sweater and a scarf, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that spills over one shoulder. She’s dressed casual in appearance—completely harmless—but what unsettles you is the intensity in her gaze—a gaze that lingers on Satoru a bit too long.
At first, you try to brush it off. Maybe she’s just admiring him—after all, he’s breathtakingly attractive, and his presence has a way of turning heads even on his most inconspicuous days. But then, her expression shifts, morphing from idle admiration to something sharper.
Recognition.
Your heart sinks as you see her eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. Holding your breath, you hope she’ll just let it go—that it’ll be a fleeting thought.
No such luck.
With a quick, subtle gesture, she nudges her friend beside her, her excitement barely contained. The friend follows her gaze, squinting slightly before her eyes, too, widen in realization. Their quiet murmurs are punctuated by eager glances your way, confirming your worst fear: they know who he is.
The comforting illusion of anonymity you’d clung to here—the precious notion that, for once, you could just be a regular family enjoying a simple day out—begins to fray at the edges, unraveling under the weight of their recognition. No matter how far you venture from the city, from his world of fame and fortune, it seems his reputation is impossible to outrun—constantly creeping back to claim him… to claim you.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly approach Satoru, who’s still kneeling by Haru as she excitedly babbles about the sheep. You crouch down beside him and gently place your hand on his shoulder—catching his attention. Turning to you, his expression softens at the sight of you—until he notices the concern in your eyes.
“They recognize you,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly toward the two women.
Following your glance, a shadow of something unreadable passes over his face as he takes in their intrigued, lingering stares, and for a moment, you feel the hopelessness creeping in—the reality that moments like these are fleeting—vulnerable to the slightest shift in attention.
But then, something shifts in Satoru’s expression—his gaze sharpening with determination as he catches sight of the disappointment settling in your eyes. Glancing around, he begins assessing the layout of the pumpkin patch—searching for an escape route.
Then, his gaze lands on it—a tall, winding corn maze, its entrance just a few yards away, partially hidden behind a cluster of hay bales.
Perfect.
Without a beat of hesitation, he leans in close to Haru—who’s blissfully caught up in a bunny nibbling on some hay.
“Agent Haru,” he intones with mock seriousness, “do you remember our mission?”
Haru’s head snaps up, her face lighting up instantly as she turns to him.
“Yeah!” she squeals, grinning with a spark of adventure.
“Good,” he nods, casting a quick, discreet glance toward the approaching women. “We need to escape without being spotted by those two ladies over there,” he gestures subtly, grinning. “Think you can handle it?”
Haru’s face scrunches up in concentration, and her tiny hands clench into fists as she straightens up. Her expression breaks into one of fierce determination—one that’s both adorable and earnest.
“Yes, ‘toru!” she whispers back, nodding.
With a reassuring smile, Satoru’s on his feet—taking your hand in one of his and Haru’s in the other.
“Hold on tight,” he quips, a smirk playing on his lips as the three of you dash toward the maze.
The moment you break into a run, Haru’s delighted giggles mix with the crunch of leaves underfoot, and soon you plunge into the tall, twisting rows of corn.
You steal a glance back towards the petting zoo, half-expecting to see the curious women following, but the corn closes in behind you like a cocoon, swallowing them from sight.
Satoru’s hand is warm around yours, grounding yet electrifying, and his laughter mingles with Haru’s squeals. With a sideways glance, his eyes meet yours and his grin is wide and exhilarating. Giving you a quick wink, he turns forward again, tugging you along as you dive deeper—daring you to keep up.
“Agent Haru, status report! Any enemies in sight?" he calls out in a mock-commanding tone.
Haru, bubbling with laughter, scans the rows of corn with exaggerated intensity—clutching his hand with fierce determination as her little legs pump as fast as they can.
"All clear ‘toru!" she yells back, brimming with excitement.
In that instant, the lingering worry, the quiet ache of reality, all of it dissolves into the thrill of escape—the magic of this moment. There’s no fame, no recognition, no judgement here; only the unrestrained joy of play, of racing through a maze as though the world is nothing but this stretch of golden corn and laughter.
You weave together through twists and turns—a blur of giggles and hurried footsteps until finally, you reach a small, secluded clearing tucked deep within the towering stalks.
Gasping for breath, you lean back against one of the tall stalks, and after a moment, you let yourself slide down to the ground—pulling your knees to your chest as you catch your breath, the crisp autumn air cooling your flushed cheeks.
Beside you, Satoru braces his hands on his knees, exhaling deeply before he follows your lead and sinks down onto the ground next to you. Though ahead, Haru seems immune to exhaustion. She’s already a few steps away, her eyes wide with wonder as she spots a butterfly lazily drifting through a patch of sunlight. Completely captivated, she crouches down, watching its gentle path—momentarily lost in her own little world.
Satoru’s eyes meet yours with a shared, silent thrill. Nudging your shoulder with his, a smirk tugs at his lips.
“Didn’t know a pumpkin patch would turn into a covert operation,” he exhales.
You laugh, breathlessly.
“Not exactly what I had in mind for a relaxing day out,” you give his knee an affectionate shove with yours. “But… I guess life with you is never boring.”
He chuckles, throwing his head back and gazing up at the autumn sky—a few streaks of orange and pink peeking through the corn tops.
“Well…” his eyes flicker to yours, sparkling with that familiar, teasing gleam. “You did sign up for the full Gojo experience. Adventures, paparazzi, occasional cornfield chases… it’s all part of the package sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.
“Uh-huh, sure, sure. I just thought it would involve more champagne and less running,” you quip, nudging him playfully.
“Oh, you want champagne?” he grins, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “You sure you can handle it? Remember that first charity gala? You were practically clinging to me by the end of the night.”
Your cheeks flush at the memory, and you laugh, slightly flustered.
“Okay, but did you expect me to be completely unfazed? My first gala, fancy dresses, and…"
The words die on your lips—the memory of that night creeping in; the low lights, the glint of champagne glasses, and then… that kiss. Your first kiss—with Satoru.
A kiss that was completely under the guise of putting on a show for Naoya… though let’s be real, it was anything but pretend.
Satoru’s eyes light up with interest as he catches your hesitation, his smirk widening like a cat about to pounce.
“Go on. Fancy dresses and… what, exactly?” he prompts, a playful drawl.
As he tilts his head with that infuriatingly charming glint in his eye, you know, that he knows, exactly what you were thinking. Ugh. He can be infuriating.  
Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.
“Nothing! Just… the whole night was… overwhelming,” you mumble, trailing off as you divert your gaze.
A low, amused hum escapes him—rumbling through his chest as his knowing look revels in your embarrassment.
“Overwhelming, huh?” he echoes, grin widening. “Interesting choice of words… considering you were the one who practically jumped me in front of your ex.”
With an exasperated groan, you roll your eyes in protest.
“Well, what can I say?” you sigh, feigning indifference as you rest your head on your knees. “Drastic times called for drastic measures.”
“Mmm-hmm, sure, keep telling yourself that,” he chuckles—dropping his head to rest against his own knees. You hold your breath as his blue eyes catch yours with a quiet, teasing intensity. “But… I’m pretty sure you just couldn’t resist me…” his crooked grin grows, “after all, that kiss was all you.”
You scoff, your cheeks heating as you stretch your legs—trying to hide your amusement. “I think you’re misremembering things. If anything, you were the one clinging to me.”
His laughter spills out, rich and unrestrained. With a content sigh, he follows your movements, stretching out beside you.
“Sure, sure. Believe what you want, sweetheart.”
The comfortable silence settles over you, and you find yourself glancing back to where Haru is still entranced by a butterfly drifting through the sunlight, her face lit with pure wonder.
She’s so… happy. And that fills you with a deep, quiet gratitude. Moments like these are what you’ve always wanted for her. It’s what she deserves, and it warms your heart to know you’re able to give her a day like this.
A sigh escapes your lips, and your voice softens into a gentle murmur as you nod in her direction.
“For a minute there… I really thought we’d have to cut the day short.”
Satoru’s gaze flickers over to Haru, a fond smile softening his expression before he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches for your hand—fingers intertwining with yours, steady and grounding.
“Nah,” he murmurs, quietly but firmly. “Not a chance. Nothing’s cutting this short. Todays about you and Haru.”
A warmth blooms in your chest, melting away any lingering traces of tension as his words sink in, wrapping around your heart like a gentle embrace. You smile, squeezing his hand in return.
“Just us, huh?” you whisper.
“Just us,” he echoes, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.
Then, with a soft sigh and a playful glint in his eye, he unclasps your hand to raises both hands to his mouth, calling out to Haru.
“Hey, Agent Haru!” he shouts, “Ready to finish our mission?”
Haru’s head snaps up, her eyes bright with excitement. She breaks into a grin and dashes over, grabbing each of your hands with her small, eager fingers.
“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”
ꨄ︎
As the golden light of early evening filters through the trees, the day is winding down, and the three of you start making your way back toward the entrance—weaving through the brightly colored stalls—each one bathed in the honeyed light of sunset.
But then, just as you reach the last stretch of the path, a delighted squeal breaks Haru’s focus the moment her gaze lands on a large, freshly raked pile of leaves just off to the side—a mound of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows stacked high like a miniature mountain waiting to be conquered. Without a second thought, she breaks free from Satoru’s hand—dashing toward the pile with uncontainable excitement.
Zeroing in on the pile, she abruptly halts—her tiny form silhouetted against the colorful heap. You watch curiously as she glances back over her shoulder—her eyes alight with mischief and her cheeks flushed pink from the chill in the air.
Beaming with the thrill of discovery, she flings herself into the pile—a burst of leaves scattering around her in a vibrant whirlwind as she bursts into a fit of giggles.
“‘toru, look, look!” she calls out, peeking up from within the pile. “Come play, ‘toru! Come play!”
Satoru stops, watching her with a raised brow and an amused grin. He chuckles softly, though you can hear the reluctance coloring his tone. Diving headfirst into a pile of leaves? Clearly, that’s a foreign concept for Satoru Gojo—it’s more of that childlike wonder he missed out on.
Noticing his hesitance, you step up beside him—giving him a teasing nudge with your shoulder.
“C’mon ‘toru, afraid of a few leaves? Don’t tell me the ‘perfect’ Mr. Gojo is worried about getting a little dirt on him?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes—though a smile is already tugging at his lips.
“Afraid? Me?” his hands burrow into his hoodie pocket as he casts you a sideways glance. “Hardly. I’m just… y’know… assessing the situation.”
Biting back a grin, you begin to take a few slow, deliberate steps backwards—inching toward the pile where Haru is waiting as your eyes hold his with a silent dare.
“Assessing, huh?” you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Mmm… I dunno, sounds like stalling to me. Come on, live a little, Mr. Gojo.”
He smirks, but before he can respond, you twirl around and dive into the pile beside Haru—scattering a burst of leaves around you. Your laughter blends with Haru’s giggle as you sink into the softness, and immediately, she reaches for a handful of leaves—tossing them up in the air so they flutter down like confetti.
Satoru tilts his head, grinning but not budging as the kaleidoscope of autumn colors rain down upon you both. But Haru? She’s not about to let him sit this one out.
Peeking over her shoulder, her eyes immediately set back on Satoru, and her expression morphs into one of adorable determination.
“’toooooru,” she whines, wide eyes practically glowing with hope. “Pleeease. Come play!”
Oh, Haru. He’s powerless against her persistence—and perhaps, against the joy that radiates from the two of you in that pile of leaves. With a theatrical sigh and a reluctant grin, he finally pulls his hands from his pockets.
“Alright, alright,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and makes his way towards the leaf pile.
Standing at the edge of the pile, he kneels down to brush his hand over the crisp leaves—and then, with a sudden burst of resolve and dramatic flair, he lets himself fall back into the pile—flopping down as the leaves scatter around him. Haru wastes no time throwing herself on top of him.
An exaggerated grunt slips through Satoru’s lips, and Haru bursts into laughter as her small hands begin to bury him under a layer of vibrant foliage.
“Oh no!” he lets out a mock gasp as she buries him deeper. “I’m being buried alive! Save me!”
Haru’s laughter bubbles up, uncontrollable and infectious, as she adds even more leaves. “Stay still!” she scolds through her giggles, patting the leaves around his arms. “Don’t move, ‘toru!
“So, I’m supposed to just lie here and accept my fate, huh?” he huffs in defeat and glances up at her with wide eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t some secret plan to take me out?”
“Shhh!” she grins, putting a finger to his lips. “Magic leaves.”
“Oh, magic leaves? Well, why didn’t you say so?” his eyes glint with amusement as he lies still, trying to keep a straight face, though the laughter in his voice betrays him.
Haru continues to stack leaves atop him with a determined precision, until for a moment, she pauses—her eyes narrowing with that familiar glimmer of mischief yet again, as if she’s calculating her next move. Then suddenly, with a burst of energy, she tackles him with all her might—giggling as she sends the carefully arranged pile of leaves flying in every direction.
“Oh, it’s on!” Satoru laughs, his own grin widening as he grabs a handful of leaves to fling back at her. “You think you can get me like that, huh?”
In an instant, they’re caught in a whirlwind of laughter and autumn leaves. Seated nearby, you observe their playful battle unfold—Haru shrieking with joy as she ducks and scrambles to gather more ammunition. The warmth in your chest blossoms, and you feel almost entranced by the sight before you.
As Satoru’s deep, unrestrained laughter blends with Haru’s giggles, you realize in this moment just how rare it is to see him like this—completely carefree and unguarded. Gone is the man who must always play his part. Gone is the man who so often conceals his true self beneath layers of poise and duty. Here, with Haru, he is simply Satoru—someone who can laugh until he’s breathless and lose himself in a child’s game without a care.
You wonder how many other moments like this he’s missed—the boyish enthusiasm makes it seem almost as if he, too, is experiencing this kind of carefree fun for the first time. And that alone makes this moment feel so precious—something you wish you could capture and keep forever—suspended in time.
He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.
“Okay, okay! I surrender!” he finally laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat before collapsing back into the pile—his chest rising and falling with exhilarated breaths as Haru cheers in victory.
“Gotcha, ‘toru!” she declares proudly—triumphantly piling more leaves on him. “You’re a leaf monster!”
Satoru chuckles, brushing a stray leaf off his nose as he props himself up slightly. “A leaf monster?” his eyes gleam playfully. “Well… you better be careful then—I might come back with vengeance.”
She squeals with laughter and her eyes sparkle with excitement as she scrambles to her feet. “Ahhh! Go away ‘toru!” she shrieks—darting away to dive into another pile of leaves nearby.
Watching her go, Satoru’s expression softens—a peaceful sigh slipping past his lips as he takes a moment to catch his breath. “She’s got endless energy, doesn’t she?” he murmurs, tilting his head up to meet your gaze.
Your heart flutters at the warmth in his eyes, and you lean back on your hands, letting your own smile mirror his as you watch Haru’s figure disappear into another pile of leaves. “She does,” you breathe softly. “But… I think you’re doing a pretty good job keeping up.”
A quiet hum of contentment escapes him, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. Almost instinctively, he shifts closer, letting his head nestle in your lap as he leans back into the leaves.
“Maybe…” he trails off into a lazy, satisfied sigh. “But I think I’ll take a break right here… if that’s okay.”
As the dappled sunlight filters through the golden autumn leaves above, it casts soft shadows across his face—illuminating the gentle warmth in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, and without a word, you reach out—threading your fingers through his hair, each strand slipping through your fingertips, softer than you expected. He hums, sinking into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as a slow, contented smile spreads across his lips.
Around you, the world seems to quiet, holding its breath. Haru’s distant giggles mingle with the soft rustling of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of peace.
“You know…” you murmur, “I think this is my favorite side of you.”
His eyes flutter open, a flicker of surprise giving way to something unguarded and vulnerable. Slowly, a tender smile forms on his lips as he reaches up, brushing his hand gently against yours.
“Yeah?” he drawls, “Didn’t know I had a ‘favorite side.’”
“You do…” your fingers trace gentle circles through his hair, savoring the feel of each delicate touch. “It’s the side where you don’t have to be anything but… here, with us.”
For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still, as if each word you’ve spoken has wrapped itself around his heart. His gaze deepens, and your breath catches—it’s like he’s seeing you in a way that reaches beyond words. Gently, his hand comes up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear—his fingertips grazing your cheek with a touch so tender it makes your heart ache.
“Guess I didn’t know I could just… be that,” he whispers.
You lift your hand, covering his and pressing it to your cheek. “Well, you can. With us, you always can.”
His gaze holds yours, something vulnerable yet content in his eyes, but then, as if unable to help himself, the warmth shifts into a familiar glint—a spark of playfulness creeping back into his expression. “Alright, alright…” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, “let’s not get too sentimental. I gotta keep up my ‘mysterious’ reputation, remember?”
A laugh spills from you, light and unrestrained, as you roll your eyes in amusement. “Oh, you’re plenty mysterious. Half the time, I still can’t tell if you’re serious or just messing with me.”
He lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back further into your lap as if he’s completely relaxed—the picture of contentment.
“You should know by now…” he murmurs, feigning seriousness as he closes his eyes, “…it’s usually both.”
The corners of his mouth twitch, barely hiding the smirk he’s trying to restrain, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning at his theatrics.
“Well… for the record,” your voice naturally softens, “I think a little tenderness suits you.”
One eye flicks open at your words, his brow quirking as he regards you with amused curiosity. Closing his eye again, his smirk deepens as he nestles further into your lap.
“Oh, does it?” he murmurs lazily, but there’s no mistaking the glint of interest coloring his tone.
“Yup,” you reply, leaning back on your hands and glancing up at the sky with feigned indifference. “I dunno… it’s kinda cute, actually.”
The words slip out like a quiet confession, and you notice the shift in him immediately—a subtle but unmistakable change.
Unable to keep up his act any longer, a bright, satisfied grin breaks across his face as he sits up—lifting his head from your lap—and his fingers slip through yours, intertwining and pulling you near him.
“Cute?” his voice drops as he brings his face achingly close to yours. “Careful now… saying things like that? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”
You feel your heart pounding—the thrill of his closeness electrifying as his breath fans your skin, but you hold his gaze boldly with a smirk.
“Well, maybe I like a little trouble,” you whisper back.
A playful growl rumbles in his chest, his smirk deepening as he tightens his grip on your intertwined hands.
“Oh… now you’re really asking for it. You’re officially in trouble.”
In one swift motion, he wraps his arms around you—sending you both tumbling back into the soft bed of leaves. The world around you blurs into a whirl of amber and gold as laughter escapes your lips, filling the crisp autumn air. But as you settle, your laughter fades, leaving only a quiet, shared breath between you and a gentle smile lingering on both your faces.
Hovering above you, his gaze softens as the leaves cradle you beneath their rustling blanket. It’s as though he’s committing every detail to memory as his eyes trace each curve and contour of your face, and you take in a quiet breath as his hand finds its way up your cheek—brushing over your skin and making you melt under his touch.
“Gotcha,” he whispers, brushing his nose gently against yours.
A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your pulse quickening as his proximity becomes all-consuming. Still, you muster a playful eye-roll, though the warmth in your gaze betrays your affection.
“Is this your idea of ‘assessing the situation,’?”
“Absolutely,” he murmurs, eyes softening. “God, you’re beautiful…”
The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless, and a warmth blooms in your cheeks that reaches all the way to your heart. Before you can respond, he closes the distance—his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft, so achingly tender, it leaves you dizzy.
As he deepens the kiss, a soft sigh escapes you, your fingers finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Each brush of his lips is slow, deliberate—and everything else fades into nothingness, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the press of his lips, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats entwined.
But just as you’re about to melt entirely into him, a tiny voice breaks through the haze of warmth and closeness.
“Hey!” Haru’s voice calls out, stern and unwavering. “Bad ‘toru!”
Pulling back, Satoru groans softly, chuckling under his breath. His gaze flicks to Haru, who stands with her hands on her hips, looking every bit the tiny but fierce protector. He drops his head in defeat, shooting you a look of amused resignation.
“Well, looks like we’ve been caught,” he whispers, brushing a stray leaf from your hair with a soft, lingering touch.
You stifle a laugh, trying to keep your composure as you glance back at Haru.
“We should probably get back to her before she starts scolding you again,” you sigh, rising to your feet with his help.
“Yeah, I don’t think I can handle another ‘squishing’ intervention,” he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both walk back to Haru, who’s watching the two of you with narrowed, all-seeing eyes.
With the sun dipping lower in the sky, it paints the fields in shades of amber and gold. The three of you make your way back toward the entrance of the pumpkin patch—Haru skipping along, her small hands clasped in both of yours as she chatters excitedly about everything she saw—even as the day winds down.
But as you approach the entrance, ready to leave this little haven of laughter and leaves behind, a quiet warmth settles in your chest—a feeling that this moment, this fleeting, joyful day with the people you cherish most, is a memory you’ll carry with you. This is your little family, and it’s worth all the chases, all the whispers, all the adventures.
For now, that’s all that matters.
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thanks for reading this special little fall chapter! satoru is such a cutie pie with haru 🥹 i really wanted to have this out before october ended, but alas, my perfectionism kept holding me back 😅 anyways, ch 7 is indeed in the works—that'll be my next post, and it will be out by the end of this month. i appreciate you all being so patient, hope you had a lovely halloween 🎃 -aly 💛
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taglist:
@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie
@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie
@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana
@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher
@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7
@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean
@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg
@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy
@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff
@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail
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562 notes · View notes
pretzel-box · 3 months ago
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Tags: Comedy, Some Fluff, Streamer AU, GN!reader x Human! Sebastian
Words: 1,9k
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"Pressured_Solace has started a stream. Click here to watch."
The blue notification button caught your eye as it popped up on your desktop, the usual alert signaling that your favorite streamer was live. A thumbnail of the game he was about to play accompanied the message, and without hesitation, you clicked to join the stream.
“Jellycatfished joined the stream!”
“Is that the real one??”
“Bet it's another faker looking for donations.”
A grin spread across your face as you slid your headphones over your ears, adjusting them for comfort as you leaned back in your gaming chair. Solace hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on setting up the stream and chatting casually with the early viewers. Hearing his deep, familiar voice through your headphones sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, filling you with a warm, giddy excitement. Pressured_Solace was your absolute favorite streamer—witty, thoughtful, and with a voice that could melt butter. Like you, he streamed without a face cam, leaving his appearance up to the imagination of his audience, which only added to his charm.
“I think… yeah, I’m all set. Everything’s good,” he mumbled into his microphone. You could hear the sounds of items shuffling around and the clatter of coffee mugs on a wooden desk in the background. Then he leaned closer to the mic, his voice dropping to a playful tone. “Test, test, 1-2, 1-2. Can everybody hear me?”
The chat lit up with eager replies—greetings, questions, and a flood of emotes scrolling by at high speed. The sound of his chuckle was like music to your ears as he tried to keep up with the barrage of messages. You could feel his excitement; it was the same rush of emotions and adrenaline that coursed through your body when you streamed.
“Alright, just a heads-up,” he continued, his tone teasing. “I got a new microphone, and I haven’t fine-tuned all the settings yet. So if you hear anything other than my voice… well, that’s just proof I’m not a robot.”
His joke made you laugh out loud, and without a second thought, you hit the like button to show your support. This was classic Solace, always with that sassy vibe and the funny comments right up his sleeve.
You moved your cursor again, hovering over the donation button as you carefully selected the amount, leaning forward with excitement as you typed a message to accompany it. Money wasn’t an issue for you—you had sponsorships, collaborations, and a well-paying side job as a secretary at a company called Urbanshade. So you took the liberty of spoiling yourself a little by supporting your beloved streamer.
“Jellycatfished has donated $1000. ‘You're telling me you are not an AI that will take over the world, Solace??’”
The automatic voice read out your donation, and Solace burst into laughter, probably shaking his head in amusement. “Welcome back, beloved Jelly. How many times do I have to tell you not to donate so much, silly?” His words were playful, but there was a certain softness in his tone, a hint of affection that made your heart flutter. Knowing that your favorite streamer had noticed you always brought a smile to your face. “But seriously, thank you, Jelly, for the donation,” he said warmly. “I appreciate your support—although I’m starting to think you’re secretly trying to buy my loyalty.”
You laughed, quickly typing back into the chat, “Maybe I am! How else would I get the attention of the coolest streamer online?” A quick moment of embarrassment filled you as you suddenly regretted your message, was it too cringe? Too much?
Solace chuckled again into the microphone, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “You don’t need to buy my attention, Jelly. You’ve always had it.”
The chat exploded with a flurry of reactions, hearts, and playful comments. You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. This was the magic of streaming—the hidden identities, the mystery, the fun banter. It was your little escape from reality, and you loved every second of it.
Just then, a notification popped up on the screen.
“Pressured_Solace has invited Jellycatfished to a private match!”
It was an invitation to a combat pvp game that grew popular in the past few days, blowing up on social media. It became one of your favorite things to stream, and Solace knew that.
Your heart skipped a beat as you glimpsed at the sudden invitation. A private match? With him? You quickly accepted the invitation, feeling a rush of adrenaline and excitement. As the game loaded, Solace spoke again, his voice filled with that familiar teasing tone. “Alright, Jelly, let’s see if you’re as good in-game as you are at throwing money around.”
You laughed, feeling a surge of competitive spirit. It wasn’t the first time you played with him and surely not the last. “Bring it on, Solace. I’ve been practicing.” This was the last message you typed before the loading screen disappeared.
The game started, and the playful banter between the two of you continued over the ingame voice chat, filled with laughter, friendly taunts, and unexpected plot twists. The chat was loving it, spamming comments like “OMG, this is the collab we didn’t know we needed!” and “Ship them already!”
As the game loaded into the next round of the PvP arena, the tension between you and Pressured_Solace crackled like electricity. The map was a sprawling labyrinth of narrow corridors and open spaces, perfect for ambushes and quick escapes. You took a deep breath, fingers flexing over the keyboard, ready to bring your A-game. The chat, that was open on your second screen, was buzzing with excitement, filled with a mixture of support and playful taunts.
"Let’s go, Jelly! Show Solace who's boss!"
“Team Jellycatfished for the win!"
“Pressured_Solace may be good, but Jelly's got that magic touch!”
You couldn’t help but smile at the encouragement flooding in. The support from your fans always gave you that extra boost of confidence, especially when it came to facing off against someone as skilled as Solace. You knew he was good—really good. But you weren’t about to let that intimidate you.
“Alright, Jelly,” Solace’s voice came through your headphones, smooth and teasing. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”
“Oh, I plan to do more than keep up,” you shot back, your voice light and playful. “I’m coming for you, Solace. How about a bet?”
“A bet?” He chuckles. “Sure.”
You started to smirk as an idea came to your mind. “If I win, I get to wish something from you.” It took a moment for Solace to reply, he was definitely teasing you by pretending to think. “Fine, but if I win, you're the one that has to fulfill a wish.”
“Deal.”
The match began, and you immediately took off, sprinting down a side corridor to grab some resources. You knew the map well enough to anticipate the power-ups and health packs that would spawn in certain locations. If you could get to them first, you might stand a chance.
But Solace was a step ahead. As you rounded a corner, you were met with a hail of bullets, forcing you to duck behind a crate. You could hear Solace chuckling through the mic.
“Nice try, Jelly, but you’re gonna have to be faster than that,” he taunted, his confidence evident.
Your heart raced as you peeked out from behind the crate, firing off a few rounds in his direction. He dodged easily, taking cover behind a wall. The chat was going wild, cheering you on, urging you to give it your all.
“Come on, Jelly! You got this!”
“Don’t let him intimidate you!”
“Use the power of the Jellycatfished!”
You grinned, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You quickly reloaded and made a break for it, dashing toward the nearest cover. You had to stay on the move—staying in one place too long would make you an easy target. Solace’s aim was deadly accurate, and you needed to keep him guessing.
But every time you thought you had a plan, he was already two steps ahead. He moved through the map like he was born there, seamlessly transitioning from offense to defense. You managed to get a few hits in, but he was quick to recover, always staying just out of reach.
“Having fun yet, Jelly?” he asked, his tone light but focused.
“More fun than you can handle,” you retorted, launching a surprise attack from above, dropping down from a higher platform. Your ambush caught him off guard, and you managed to land a few solid hits before he rolled away, retaliating with a well-placed grenade that forced you back.
The chat erupted with excitement.
“YES! Go, Jelly, go!”
“That was epic!”
“Don’t let up, Jellycatfished!”
Despite the cheers, you could feel the pressure mounting. Solace was clearly better, his skill evident in every move he made. He was precise, calm, and knew exactly how to control the flow of the game. You, on the other hand, were running on adrenaline and instinct, trying to keep up with his calculated strategies.
And then he made his move. In a swift, decisive maneuver, he cornered you in a dead-end alley, cutting off your escape routes. You fired desperately, but his shots were faster, more accurate. Before you knew it, your health bar was dwindling down to nothing.
“Looks like this is the end, Jelly,” Solace said with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Any last words?”
You grinned, a surge of determination flooding through you. “Yeah… don’t underestimate me.”
With a final burst of energy, you lunged forward, launching one last, desperate attack. It was reckless, but you had nothing to lose. You managed to land a few more hits before Solace finished you off with a well-placed headshot.
“Defeated! Pressured_Solace wins the match!”
The screen flashed the results, and the chat exploded with a mix of cheers and playful groans.
“GG, Jelly! You put up a good fight!”
“Solace is just too good!”
“Rematch! Rematch!”
“That was intense!”
Breathless, you leaned back in your chair, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad, Solace. Not bad at all.”
“Not bad? I’d say that was a pretty solid victory,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But you did put up a good fight, Jelly. I’m impressed.”
You laughed, feeling a warm flush of pride despite the loss. “I’ll get you next time, Solace. Mark my words.”
“I’m counting on it,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the screen. “I always enjoy a challenge from you.”
The chat continued to buzz with excitement, fans from both sides celebrating the epic showdown. Even though you didn’t win, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. You may have lost the match, but you had fun, and more importantly, you had earned Solace’s respect. And that, in itself, felt like a win.
As the stream continued, you and Solace bantered back and forth, the playful rivalry only fueling the chat's excitement. It was moments like these that reminded you why you loved streaming so much—the thrill of the game, the support of the community, and the chance to connect with someone like Pressured_Solace, even if you didn’t know him outside of this virtual world.
But there was always tomorrow, and another game to be played. And who knows? Maybe next time, the outcome would be different.
A message plopped up at last, Solace texted you privately over the streaming platform.
“Alright Jellykitten.” He obviously joked by giving you such a silly nickname. “Time for my wish, prepare for your doom!”
“What is it, Solace?”
“Share your discord tag with me.”
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finalgirllx · 8 months ago
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bartender mattheo riddle
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i'm a slut for AUs and this one quickly shot up to being one of my favorites for mattheo.
for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'firewhiskey/butterbeer'
3.7k words | nsfw | minors dni | f!reader implied | drink responsibly | wrap it
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As you tread the once-familiar cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, the rhythmic click of your shoes provides a temporary distraction from the storm swelling inside your thoughts. For such a lively village, the action around you feels distant, too far in the past to offer any respite similar to the steady cadence beneath your feet. 
To outside viewers, you appear as any young person donning a modest party dress and looking for a casual spot to unwind for the evening. They wouldn't know this was your first visit to Hogsmeade in over five years since you finished your schooling at Hogwarts. You had left the highlands, your small hamlet, for bigger, better things—or so you had thought. 
Reality didn't guarantee such promises you had dreamed of in those few years. Currently barely making ends meet and running on a general sense of uncertainty, you decided it was as good a time as any to revisit your hometown and the magical communities surrounding it, including this cheerful wizarding town you had frequented throughout your adolescence. 
You first tried your luck with the Three Broomsticks, but the bustling atmosphere proved too overwhelming for the discreet return you aimed for. With the decision between the rundown Hog's Head inn and a newer, more upscale establishment called 'Celestial Sips,' you opted to see what this new 'fancy-schmancy' spot was all about. 
You stealthily step through the polished entry doors to scan the venue, which is dimly lit beside faint golden lights. It is adorned with oddly shaped furniture more suited for artistic expression rather than usability. It appears far more modernized than the traditional charm most common with Hogsmeade’s businesses, young wizarding folk undoubtedly curated it with heavy inspiration coming from muggle cocktail lounges. 
The existence of the bar itself in a place such as Hogsmeade wasn't the most earth-shattering part of this night out. It was when your eyes met with the lead bartender, and a flood of memories filled your senses as you realized it was none other than Mattheo Riddle.
His dark curls were unruly as ever but fell in such a way that made him irresistible. His piercing dark gaze caught yours, sparking with recognition. The scar across the bridge of his nose was just as prominent as it was six years ago, as vivid as the day you had dragged him to the hospital wing to get his split nose mended after a particularly grueling fistfight. 
That memory also reminds you just how close you and him once were. While you had never officially dated, you did everything a couple would and then some. You shared countless fun late nights, as well as having been there for each other during the more trying ones. And although sexual intimacy didn't come until after graduation, the passion of those post-school days also remains etched in your memory. It was your decision to pursue "bigger things" that had cut that short, leaving you with a lingering sense of what might have been.
Despite the distance between you as you reeled from the shock of encountering him here, you couldn't help but notice the changes in Mattheo over the past five years. Mattheo exuded a confidence far from the troubled boy you once knew at school. He had grown taller, broader, and even more handsome than before. He was also now littered with tattoos that only added to his allure, tempting you to bridge the distance separating you further. 
Your knee-jerk reaction would have been to flee the scene, but since you had already met eyes and he was actively beckoning you forward to the bar as you battled with your thoughts, you had no choice but to participate in the unexpected reunion. 
You sat at a bar stool, and Mattheo quickly welcomed you with a warm but distinctively husky tone. It was clear that Mattheo was struggling to mask his excitement over seeing you as he tried to maintain some professionalism while behind the bar. 
"The greatest stroke of luck I've encountered since taking the job at this fancy joint," Mattheo started with genuine delight, "I can't believe it's you. You look fantastic," his quick work of sweet-talking you did the trick as your cheeks flushed, though still totally sober. Mattheo was also swift in amending that, sliding a vodka cranberry before you with a nod, "On the house. Let me know if you want something more 'refined' for the setting; I just went with an old favorite." 
You let out a soft giggle, drawing the straw to your lips to sip the drink. The sweetness of the juice masks the burn, perfectly balanced to not overwhelm from either end. 
With Mattheo's excellent job of putting you at ease, you finally replied. "Indeed, you always teased me for not being a whiskey drinker. Old habits die hard," you quipped, taking another sip before continuing. "But, look at you! A bartender? Mattheo, I must say, I'm thrilled to see you here and not, well.." your words lingered away at the implication, realizing it might not sound as encouraging as intended. There were all sorts of rumors of him headed to a life of dark wizardry, so seeing him here was a relief. But he didn't have to hear about any of that, not now. Quickly shifting your approach, you perked up to suggest, "And at this luxurious place? While I appreciate the old favorite, I would love to see what magic you could conjure up in a cocktail glass."  
Mattheo laughed and shook his head momentarily before piping up again. "Seems your confidence has skyrocketed. I'm glad to see that, princess," he teased with a cheeky smirk, earning an eye roll from you that only amused him further. You again feel a little heated at the nickname, opting not to question it. You could see that the mischievous glint in his eyes was alive and well as he began meticulously combining various expensive-looking drinks and mixers just for you. Simultaneously, Mattheo tended to other existing patrons, expertly traversing the sprawling bar to ensure everyone's needs were met and drinks stayed filled. 
Observing how Mattheo carried himself with such assuredness only heightened your attraction. Each movement he made to speak with patrons and craft drinks allowed you to appreciate his muscled physique. You were no better than a groupie ogling his toned, tattooed arms, his hands still bearing faint scars from his past. The sight of his veins flexing with every motion ignited a fire in your stomach that you hoped wouldn't consume you entirely.
His broad shoulders and slim waist were accentuated by his dark button-up dress shirt. That caught your attention, as did when your gaze moved downward and drifted over his perfectly sculpted behind. You were abruptly snapped from your desirous stupor when the object of your admiration set a much fancier cocktail before you. 
"Like what you see?" Mattheo asked with a smug, teasing tone, causing you to want to disappear into the ground beneath your stool. You must have been less-than-subtle about checking him out, but he didn't seem to mind as he continued without further ribbing. "Try that. It's the Mattheo special," he said, watching you intently to see how you reacted to the first sip.
You smirked at the oh-so-creative name and then inspected the drink itself. It was rather extravagant, a lavender purple hue with swirls of gold shimmering with every swish of the glass. 
Without hesitation, you lifted the glass and took a small sip. A delightful combination of blueberry and lemon overtook your tastebuds, almost completely shielding the strength of the alcohol in the drink. Hell, you were prepared to question if it was mixed at all had you not watched him pour at least a shot's worth of vodka into it.
You gave him a smile of approval, to which Mattheo grinned widely, clearly pleased to see you liked it. With the other patrons momentarily tended to, Mattheo rested his elbows on the counter, surprising you with his sudden proximity as he leaned forward, suggesting he had something enticing to say. 
"I hope this isn't too forward, but I'd really like to catch up," Mattheo spoke in a hushed tone. It sounded innocent enough, but the question, paired with his gaze lingering on your figure, told you he meant anything but. "Would you consider sticking around till close?"
Yes, yes, yes! Your internal monologue screamed. On the outside, you locked eyes with him and smirked, your expression conveying you understood his intentions well. "I don't have anywhere else I want to go; I can stick around." 
-----------------------
You were cautious with your drinking to avoid getting too intoxicated for your later plans with Mattheo. As the closing time for Celestial Sips approached, you remained near the counter, bantering with other patrons. Mattheo delegated cleaning duties to other employees while he called for final rounds and closed tabs. Each time your eyes met, a shared twinge of excitement passed between you.
After another hour or so, Mattheo finally shut down the lit 'open' sign, leaving you two together alone. While this is what you wanted, your nerves welled up upon the realization that it was just the two of you here. A hint of insecurity came over you. He had grown to be such an attractive, confident man, and you could only hope he found you equally appealing. That line of thought was interrupted when Mattheo began approaching you. His expression, filled with hunger, was directed at you. His captivating eyes combined with the deep-brown locks drooping over his forehead implored you to swoon from where you sat.
"Merlin, princess, you have no idea how much I've missed you," Mattheo murmured, his voice brimming with seduction as he closed the distance, his hands finding their place on the curve of your waist. “Please let me know if you want me to slow down at any time." His words echoed in your ears, bringing you comfort even though you felt wholly prepared to surrender to all of his desires. 
Mattheo advanced until your back pressed against the front of the counter. His lips found the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with a trail of wet kisses in their wake. A moan escaped your lips as his actions ignited your longing for more; everything you had wished his hands on you would feel like coming true. However, the heat was cut short far too soon when Mattheo suddenly took a pause from all of the heavy petting.
"You seem tense," Mattheo remarked with a hint of concern. You promptly reassured him with affectionate pecks to his cheek before admitting, "I just hope I'm good for you." His eyes briefly darkened as if displeased by your hesitancy. Suddenly, both of his hands moved to cup your cheeks, and he gazed deeply into your eyes.
"You are the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on. I meant every word when I said I fantasized about a moment like this with you for years," he confessed. The sincerity in his voice compelled you to trust him, leaving you with no doubt about whether he wanted this. 
Seeing you take his words to heart, Mattheo's expression then lit up, clearly having a lightbulb moment. "If you're ready, this place is chock full of drinks to help us both loosen up a bit," As soon as he mentioned it, you felt almost silly having overlooked the idea, realizing that some liquid confidence was the answer to easing your nerves. You nodded, and Mattheo took his hand in yours and gently guided you behind the bar counter.
"Do you trust me?" He asked, and you instantly replied, "I do."
In one swift motion, one hand made its way to the back of your head and the other to the small of your back so he could pull you into a passionate kiss. Your tongues found each other in a dance, his dominant side quickly winning over as his tongue protruded into your mouth. When you briefly pulled away to catch your breath, your cheeky side showed itself when you gently tugged on his bottom lip with your teeth. He moaned slightly, to your satisfaction, and you took advantage of the moment to run your hand over his chest, feeling the muscles underneath that dress shirt. You finally had Mattheo Riddle all to yourself, and you wanted all of him.
Without warning, he grabbed you by the hips, pulled you close, and spun you around to bend you over the counter. One hand curled around your hair to create a makeshift ponytail, the other wasting no time grabbing a bottle of fire whiskey within arm's reach and placing it beside you. 
"I'm sorry, doll. I know you love vodka, but whiskey is perfect for tonight." 
You looked up at him with doe-like pleading eyes as he gripped your hair, nodding as much as you could though restricted by his hold. He grinned wickedly over your enthusiastic consent before looming over you with a dominating presence. "Open up that mouth, princess."
Your lips slightly parted as Mattheo brought the open bottle of whiskey to your mouth. He poured a shot's worth down your throat, the intense heat burning on your tongue without anything to chase it down. Yet, as Mattheo force-fed you the drink and whispered praises in your ear about how you 'take it so well,' the burn of the whiskey transformed into a divine sensation, exhilarating in the best way. The bar counter was the only thing stopping you from melting to the floor as you became weak in the knees, your aroused state especially susceptible to his praise.
Mattheo lifted the bottle away from you to take a swig, holding you to the counter with a heavy palm against your back. He sighed, satisfied by the burn.
After a moment, he turned his attention back on you and pulled your hair to the side, hastily marking your neck with suctioned kisses and nibbles. At the same time, Mattheo's fingers ghosted down your back, caressing your ass and jolting you with a swift spank, finally reaching underneath your dress to stroke your cunt through your slick panties.
"Merlin, princess, after seeing the way your lips wrapped around that bottle, I wanted to fuck that pretty mouth so bad. But feeling how goddamn wet you are for me, I'm not sure either of us can wait for my cock to be inside your perfect, tight pussy."
His long fingers moved away from your aching core, reaching up and now brushing against your lips. "Will you wet my fingers a little more for me?" he asked in a voice too enticing for such an indecent request. You immediately allowed him to intrude your mouth, his fingers already covered in your taste though he had just barely begun to touch you. "We have to prepare that pussy don't we?" he groaned into your ear. You were distracted as his hardened cock ground into your ass between the fabric of your dress and his trousers.
You could tell he was beginning to lose himself as he seemed enamored by the way your mouth slipped over his fingers, swirling your tongue around them in a show of desperation to please.
Once content with your wetting of his fingers, he pulled them from your mouth and went back to exploring your panties, pushing them aside to tease your folds before slipping the first of his fingers in. It was seamless, not surprising for you, having lusted over him the entire night.
"Fuck, you're still so tight, doll. I have to stretch you out, so this feels as good for you as it will for me."
After a few moments, he introduced a second finger to your soaked cunt. He didn't move at first but gradually began pumping them inside. He could have cum on the spot witnessing your frenetic response to just two fingers.
"Careful, princess. If you want to come on my fingers, you need to beg for it." The words sent a shudder of desperation through your entire body, legs threatening to give out from underneath you as the artful use of his fingers in tandem with his dirty talk brought you toward your first orgasm, unable to resist it even if you tried. Mattheo kept his movements steady as your eyes rolled back and your walls clenched around him, a deep voice leaving the back of his throat to growl, "that's it, ride my fingers, you little slut," His tone this time was demanding, you knew he was displeased by your disobedience. His untamed, hungry expression evolved into something more conniving as he contemplated how to punish you for cumming without permission.
"You like that, huh? A slut who couldn't wait to beg? I should put my cock inside you and make you cum until you can't stand it anymore, then, hm? Do you want that? Cry for it, princess, or you're not getting it." 
You quickly fulfill this command with desperate pleas, "Please, Mattheo, please, fill me with your cock." 
"Fucking hell, princess--if I wasn't about to bust, I'd have you begging more. Desperation sounds fucking delicious rolling off your tongue," Mattheo growled against your ear as one of his hands haphazardly moved back to his trousers, hastily unbuttoning them to allow his needy length to spring free and press against you. The relief of finally freeing himself caused a deep groan to slip past his lips which only seemed to increase his urgency as his hands quickly found their place on your body again, yanking your dress up over your ass and delivering a forceful slap to your exposed flesh. You yelped and squirmed reflexively from the sting, much to his delight. "That's my fucking ass, don't forget it," he groaned with a certain smugness at the sight of his handprint forming on your skin.
"Please, Matty, please fuck me," you pleaded with a nearly pathetic level of desire. With that, Mattheo decided not to waste another second before indulging you. He took hold of your hips, guiding his cock to your slick folds, and slowly started to ease himself inside of you. 
You gasped at the intrusion, reveling in the stretch, but Mattheo cooed praises to relax you enough so there was little discomfort as you adjusted to his size. "Fuck, you fit around me so well. perfect pussy, perfect girl." he groaned as he could feel your wet warmth surround him. “is this okay?"
"Yes, please keep going."
Mattheo used the makeshift ponytail of your hair to lift your head and press his full weight against you onto the counter. His hips began to move, thrusting slowly to start until he was absolutely sure you could take him. With you now sandwiched between his body and the cold surface, he worked up to fucking you at a relentless pace, the base of his cock clashing against your ass as he bottomed out inside of your cunt. The hand steadying you by the hip reached up to wrap around your throat, squeezing at the sides enough for you to feel his strength but not enough to cause pain. It seemed almost to be a reminder for himself not to completely lose to the animalistic urges as he continued to increase the intensity. Your pelvis clanging against the bar didn't matter; you always like it rough, and he knew it.
"Princess, oh gods, I don't know if I'll last." He moaned into your ear paired with short, hot breaths. "You feel so fucking good; I wanted this for so..fucking...long." he sang his praises between each punctuated thrust that hit just the right spot inside of you again and again. The repeated stimulation triggers your second orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock as a choked moan barely escapes your lips- the sound being caught by his firm hold on your neck. 
"We're fucking meant for each other, babe," Mattheo grunted as you rode through your wave of pleasure. All you could do in your cockdrunk state was mewl in response, which fueled his ego. "Perfect dumb slut for me, you love taking my cock, don't you? Tell me how much you love my cock," his dirty talk turned more degrading as your most depraved desires inched closer to showing themselves on the surface. 
"Love your cock Matty.. mhm so good..." 
"Good slut. Now, say you're mine," he commanded, completely frenzied with his pacing. 
"I'm yours." you babbled with complete devotion. Mattheo groaned as you so willingly gave into his possessiveness, the very idea of owning every part of you being the tipping point to let his release out inside of you. His rutting became erratic and slowed as he rode through his orgasm, the last few pumps matching your third orgasm in stride. 
He then laid limp on top of you, letting out heaving exhales to regain his composure. For the moment, he left his cock to twitch inside of you, relishing in the warm feeling. Once convinced he could get up properly, he pulled out, leaving your pussy dripping with his cum as his entire body lurched over you.
"That was perfect, you were perfect. Best stroke of luck in ages," he mused with a throaty chuckle, recalling his first words when you locked eyes at the beginning of the night. "Can you walk?" he asked, mostly teasingly because the shaking of your legs answered that question without a doubt. 
"No," you spoke softly, the giggles you had at the beginning of the night starting to return even if your mind wasn't still fully there from the back-to-back stimulation. 
With this, Mattheo decided to hold you for a while longer. You had a lot of catching up to do and piecing together both of your stories to find out how, after so many years, you still ended up right here. But for now, the shared presence was enough. 
------------------ huge thankies to @slytherinslut0 for coaching me through this. i was very spooked to share. love y'all <3
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hanafubukki · 6 months ago
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I'm back with another Lilia thought! This one isn't mafia au though, so you can wait with reading it so it won't spoil the immersion lol ( I'm so glad you liked it btw 😭)
This one is about you being Lilia's fae s/o. When he went to NRC with the boys he gave you a cell phone to stay in touch with him with. You use it to play games together and communicate (I think it'd be mostly texting as to simulate writing letters to your loved one who's away), but something he'll never tell anybody about are the more private messages you share. Because he's an old man, sensing lustful messages with Lilia is like writing prose. Taking turns to write and seeing the messages show up in real time...there's just something about this old man and language when it comes to intimate times. He'll save the conversations to re-read whenever he's needy. There's not much video/photo sharing (again, to fit with the whole writing letters thing), but it'd be fun I think if you discover the Twisted Wonderland version of Only Fans and jokingly tell Lilia that you wanna make an account and have him as your only subscriber. He actually loves the idea, of you being needy and the way he finds out is a ping notification that you've uploaded a new photo of yourself- for his eyes only. You'd want the account to be private since it's for personal use but I can see Lilia maybe being adventurous and being into teasing other men knowing they'll never have you. They can see a few clothed pictures but the number of people who can see it all never goes above 1.
-Fake Date Sebek Anon
[Talking about this fic]
Hello Fake Date Sebek Anonie 🌺🌷💞
That Lilia Mafia ask really just hit me suddenly and released all the core memories I had and I couldn’t not make it into a flower shop combination. Thank you Anonie, that AU lives in my brain rent free 💞💞
God can you imagine?? The text messages switches between Victorian flirting to modern flirting and sometimes the combination. Texting each other how much you missed the other so.
Telling him, how you miss his warmth and his touch. How your own imagination and hands can do so much. Even magical toys do not help. Gradually it shifts to this account you see humans use.
How innovative and advanced. Of course you bring it up to Lilia and he’s down. As long as it’s only him that can see it. He loves knowing no one can have you. You’re his.
He loves to show off your more casual pictures but he’s full of pride. No one else can see you, feel you, or touch you. No one else would know your taste.
Hm? What’s this? It’s as if you heard him. You sent him a new picture. He’s happy that fae’s have an abundance of magic. Silver, Sebek, and Malleus can look after each other for a few hours.
He’s going to teleport to you right now. The urge to feel and taste you too great. His hands itches to shred the clothes you have on and Lilia is not one to deny himself of his favorite treat. 💞🌺
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rendy-a · 8 months ago
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If your interested i would like to request a self aware au where the player instead of possesses Ramshackle instead of Yuu
My first thought is that I don’t understand this request.  Possess the actual building of Ramshackle?  Then I thought it might actually be funny if the Player were stuck in the building Encanto-style.  Feel free to drop in a new request if this isn’t what you were looking for.  Until then, enjoy this silly idea.
The Dorm Magical
All the characters in Twisted Wonderland had an innate sense for when they were being observed by the Player.  It was a feeling so sublime that it was the only thing a character craved.  One day, they stopped receiving that feeling as they did lessons, went about the storyline and even engaged in event stories.  These were all the Player’s favorite times to grace them with their notice!  It was deeply disturbing to them (could you have quit playing the game?) until they noticed that feeling again within the walls of Ramshackle Dorm.  Now this unique dorm isn’t just the home to the odd students Grim and Yuu but also the only place left on campus to experience the notice of the Player. 
Nothing matters anymore unless you can do it in Ramshackle or take it to Ramshackle.  Riddle brings every perfect-scored test to casually hold up to the walls, hoping you’ll take notice.  A suspicious number of movies being filmed by the Film Club seem to use old houses as a setting.  If any odd floorboard squeaks or movements of doors happen, all the club members merely clap and declare that the Player is so good at ad-libbing. 
Epel bursts into the lounge of Ramshackle and Grim nearly chokes on a bite of tuna.  “Nya!  What’s the big idea barging in here like that?” he asks between coughs.  Epel holds up a spelldrive trophy enthusiastically, “We won the tournament!”  Yuu smiles at him indulgently, “Great job.”  Epel shoots him a puzzled look as though to say, ‘Why are you talking to me?’  Then he turns about the room, holding the trophy aloft until a beam of sunlight from a window seems to shift and hit the trophy perfectly.  Epel grins as though the Player had personally awarded him that trophy.  “Awe, shucks!” he beams while grinning like a fool.  Then, he suddenly seems to recollect somewhere he needs to be.  “I…I should probably get this trophy back now before Leona notices its missing.  See you later Player!”  He makes awkward eye contact with Grim, “and…I guess Yuu and Grim too…”
It’s not just students, so many classes seem to be held in Ramshackle dorm.  The same students that used to try to sweet talk teachers into holding class outside on sunny days are now suggesting they can concentrate so much better in the quiet Ramshackle dorm.  Staff are surprisingly fast to agree.  There is now a sign-up sheet in the faculty lounge to reserve a Ramshackle day.
“Turn to page 101 in your textbooks.  Today we are covering proper methods of distilling potions,” Crewel begins his lecture.  A hand raises, “Professor, couldn’t we learn this better in Ramshackle?”  Crewel lets out a long-suffering sigh, “There aren’t even potion making facilities in that dorm.”  Another hand raises, “But Trein got to have history there twice this week already.”  Crewel pauses for a moment considering that petty argument.  “Screw it,” he finally replies in an arrogant tone, “Grab your things.  We are moving this class to the kitchen of Ramshackle.”  A cheer erupts from the masses.
Rules had to be made preventing transfer to Ramshackle.  Crowly is very firm on this; if he can’t live there, no one else can either!  The few times in the main story where people stay over are the highlight of those student’s year.
Vil slides his hand gently down the banister of the staircase as he descends and lets out a satisfied sigh.  “Stop stroking my house,” Yuu retorts in an annoyed tone. “For the duration of the VDC training camp, it’s our house,” and continues to lightly run his fingertips along the wallpaper with a dreamy smile.
The guest room is the most coveted invitation on campus.  Students would gladly jump over any number of couches and tables for the honor of being trapped in the corner of the Ramshackle guest room.  Even Riddle is happy to cut class, dress up in his Halloween costume and stand idly by. 
Deep in the corner of the room, Sebek stands on two small squares of open space.  He paces a single step backwards and forwards.  He’s been trapped there for at least an hour, yet he still sounds at the peak of happiness as he exclaims, “THIS DECORATION REMINDS ME OF THE THORN FAIRY HERSELF!  WHAT A MAGNIFICENTLY APPOINTED ROOM!”  The door blows open slightly in a breeze and Sebek preens as though receiving an approving wave from the great Player themselves.  Ah, what a moment to be alive and trapped in a room.
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melodyanqel · 4 months ago
Text
𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ── ✧ sh. (iii. first date)
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congratulations! you have been invited to the romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will live with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out you are marrying your favorite idol?
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✿ pairing: idol!seonghwa x fem!idol!oc
✿ genre/tags: fluff, developing relationship, idol au, fake marriage, reality show
✿ word count: 2k words
✿ note: yayy! finally a new update! sorry that i left you all in the dark bc i had my bday, family time, and other things. but overall i am happy to write again! this one is too sweet like get prepared >_<
✿ melodyanqel taglist: @hwa-stars @forever-atiny @moonvol6 @10nantscompanion @chngbnwf @heheheeral
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As time flies, the afternoon rolls around. 
When leaving the cafe, Seonghwa and Bella said “Goodbye” to the dogs and the workers. In the streets of Gangnam, there are a variety of shops, restaurants, Korean history, and many more. The couple walks around in peace as they converse as the spring breeze dances in the air. 
“What made you decide to become an idol?” Seonghwa is curious about Bella’s life because he expects it will be the best way to get to know her better. He changed out of the barista uniform into much more casual clothes. Bella responded, “My appa and omma grew up in the nineties and were big fans of K-pop. At five years old, my parents showed me classic K-pop songs, inspiring me to become an idol. I also loved singing and dancing, but mainly dancing. My vocals are not that strong.” She lets out a small laugh—a sheepish laugh. 
Seonghwa listens to her and has deep brown eyes on her as she speaks. After she said her weak skill as an idol was singing, it broke his heart. He also understands where Bella is coming from because he never wanted to become a vocalist before getting recruited to ATEEZ. 
“I was supposed to be a rapper. But I grew to love singing.” Seonghwa mentioned. “I’m sure you’ll find your singing voice.” He delivers an encouraging remark. Bella witnessed his handsome gleaming with the sun and his words were like magic. It can make anyone appreciate Seonghwa like no other. He is so kind. 
Bella contemplates whether it’s for the show or he meant it. 
She did a short nod. “Thank you, sunbaenim.”
The older chuckles merrily. “You’re welcome. Call me Seonghwa or Seonghwa oppa if you’re okay with any.” He tells Bella. 
“Understood.” She knows it’ll take a while to get used to saying his name in person. 
Seonghwa adds, “That’s also impressive how you traveled here at such a young age. Keep up the good work. Hwaiting!” He raises two fists and has Bella giggling. He is supportive too. 
Bella doesn’t know how much appreciation she’ll give him—probably until her heart combusts. 
Subsequently, the newlyweds found an arcade inside a mall to play games and win prizes. With Seonghwa, it’s either a good or bad trait that he is competitive. Not just him but everyone in his group will make a simple game like Rock, Paper, Scissors into a game from hell. Not to mention, the PD crew has given the couple a new task. 
For a first date, the arcade is perfect to be kids at heart and have a blast with games. However, this mission is to win a special plushie by earning one hundred tickets. Good luck, players.
The inside looks like any other arcade: neon lights, a cheerful atmosphere, and people of all ages playing games.
Seonghwa taps Bella’s left shoulder. Her head cranes up to meet his gaze. “A reminder or a warning. I’m a competitive player.” He needed to let her know. Bella smiles widely, “I am too. So, you got a helping hand.” She loves video gaming, especially with her members and older brother. That’s one thing the couple have in common. 
Before doing so, Seonghwa and Bella checked out their plush at the prize area. It’s Grogu from Star Wars. Once they saw the adorable green character, their eyes glimmered. “So cute!” They spoke in unison. 
Seonghwa and Bella turned their heads and looked at each other. “Do you like Star Wars?” The male idol asked his wife. She nodded happily. “I love Star Wars! Grogu is my favorite!” Bella has a mini collection of the alien baby. 
“Anakin Skywalker is my favorite.” Seonghwa could never be happier. Another thing they have in common. “Do you build Lego sets?” He asked Bella. She shook her head. “No, but I would love to do it as a hobby.” She knows Seonghwa is passionate about building Lego sets because she has watched his livestreams. They are enjoyable and therapeutic. 
Like a gentleman, Seonghwa allowed Bella to choose the first game. She decided to play basketball. After swiping the game card, Bella is up and ready. She rolls up the sleeves of her cardigan. 
“You can do it!” Her husband cheers so loudly with no care. Bella’s ears picked up Seonghwa’s lovely voice and her smile grew. 
She kept shooting hoops and times she missed but got a brilliant score. Meanwhile, Seonghwa was astounded while motivating Bella. 
“Wah, I’m tired.” She started to sweat in her cute outfit. Hopefully, Seonghwa doesn’t notice it. He tells her, “You were amazing! Jongho has competition.” Seonghwa brings up the powerful Main Vocalist maknae. Bella quickly shakes her head. “Nope. I’ll pass.” She makes an X with her index fingers. It makes Seonghwa laugh at how straightforward she is. 
After thirty minutes of playing games, they were halfway to getting one hundred tickets. Most of the time it’s Seonghwa being Bella's biggest supporter. 
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
-Interview- 
(Bella)
Q. Have you noticed your husband was cheering you on? 
The producer asked her, and she beams with an enthusiastic nod. “I did hear him from the background, and it was nice of him. I was having fun and was embarrassed that I failed to score, but Seonghwa was reassuring and I am thankful for that.” Bella couldn’t contain her smile as she talked about her on-screen husband. She must be the luckiest woman on the planet. 
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
Their last game was a difficult one. It’s the claw machine, but they are also assigned to get a roll of tickets. Inside the transparent glass is their prize with a chrome silver bow. “I’ll do this one.” Seonghwa declared because he felt determined. Plus, he wants to impress his wife. Bella has a handful of tickets, and she gives some moral support. “Good luck, Seonghwa oppa!” She cheers for the man. 
Intentional or not, he is screaming internally. She sounded so cute saying his name!
Seonghwa takes a deep breath before starting the claw machine. “Let’s go!” He tries hyping himself up. Bella laughs softly because out of all the games, the claw machine will be his worst enemy. 
She is correct. 
Ten minutes later, Seonghwa is frustrated that he nearly cursed on live television. Luckily, Bella tried calming him down, but his angry face looked adorable. Nevertheless, seeing the object slide off of the claw was aggravating. 
“Maybe I should help.” The dancer suggested. 
Seonghwa turns his head to her and says, “Yes, please!” He begged like it was the last resort. Bella grins while patting his back. She gives him their tickets and switches spots. “Okay, let’s see how I’ll do.” She honestly has some confidence, but not fully. 
After swiping the game card, Bella presses the “Start” button. Seonghwa immediately becomes her navigator, rambling on like, “Left, left.” “Turn to the right.” “Move a little further.” “Stop, stop.” “Time is running out grab it!”
Bella listened to his demand and successfully got the roll of tickets. Seonghwa's hunched position perks up and he yells his lungs out with his arms in the air. Bella squeals and claps her hands. 
They won the Grogu plushie and walked out of the arcade feeling satisfied. 
Seonghwa’s mouth gaped. “Wow. It’s already dark.” He didn’t expect the hours to go by so quickly. The evening is here and the sun sets with the blush of a rose petal. Bella’s brown orbs scan the pretty city lights. The plushie is snugged in her arms because Seonghwa let her have it. He considered the cute alien as her first date gift from him. 
“Did you have fun?” The husband asked his wife. They walked down the streets of Gangnam. Sometimes there will be days where it’s hustling and bustling. Well, they got lucky because it was peaceful. Just them in their own world made the atmosphere romantic. 
“Yes, I did! You were cool back there and thank you for the Grogu.” Bella replied and complimented him. Seonghwa will always get flustered by her kind words. He smiles gladly, “You’re welcome. I appreciate spending time with you before I go out of the country. Also, my birthday is coming up. April 3rd.” He reminded Bella that he’ll be doing group activities abroad and turning twenty-six soon. 
The petite beauty makes eye contact with him. She is slowly getting used to looking at his boba eyes. “Can I come along to your birthday?” Bella is down to celebrate. Seonghwa nodded excitedly. “Sure! The members and I will have a small party at the dorm I share with San and Mingi.” He also realized they’d be meeting Bella. 
“I would love to get to know your members. They’re my brother-in-laws too.” Bella giggles and it’s strange to call ATEEZ her in-laws. 
Even Seonghwa finds it strange to call STAYC his sister-in-laws. 
“They’re nice people except when we play games.” He describes his group as both sweet and chaotic. Bella didn’t need to assume because she had watched their moments on YouTube and variety shows. But they are an excellent group. 
She tells Seonghwa, “Don’t worry. My group is the same.” Bella can relate to him and they both find it funny and amazing. 
Then a place sparks her interest. Bella found a photobooth. Seonghwa sees her eyeing it in silence. He questions her, “Do you want to take pictures?” His voice broke out of her thoughts. Bella swiftly turned her attention to Seonghwa. “Can we? I don’t know if we have time.” She is hesitant and cares about his work schedule. 
To her surprise, Seonghwa shrugged. “I’ll take the risk of running late tomorrow. Besides, I’ve been wanting to have a break.” For once, he cares less about his usual routine as an idol. Waking up early when it’s the peak of dawn, doing practices with mentors for the whole day, meetings, and repeat. 
Bella is appalled. She wasn’t expecting this side of Seonghwa. “I hope you don’t get in trouble.” Her concerned response made her husband chuckle. “It’s okay. We’ll take as much as we want.” Seonghwa convinced Bella that he wouldn’t get scolded by his manager or big boss. 
In silence, the wife nods to indicate she trusts her husband. 
Seonghwa and Bella entered the self-photo studio with cute props on the clothing racks and baskets. Instantly, a headband of bear ears caught Bella’s attention. “Ooh! I'll wear this one!” She takes them from a rack. Seonghwa hums, “Hmm, I guess I’ll wear this.” He grabs a fluffy hat with floppy rabbit ears. He is a rabbit, after all. 
Once taking their chosen props, they go into an empty booth with a pretty pink background. “I’ll have Grogu join.” Bella puts her new plushie in the frame. Seonghwa puts on a broad smile, “He is photogenic.” The male idol commented. He sees her put the baby alien in the middle, and they strike a pose. Bella makes a cheek heart and Seonghwa cups his cheek—a signature pose, especially for his photocards. 
Second photo is a silly one with the small black glasses. Bella couldn’t stop laughing at Seonghwa because it’s true that he can make glasses look dorky. 
Third is with peace signs.
Fourth one is completing a hand heart.
Now, for the last photo, they weren’t sure what to do.
Seonghwa thought of an idea but wanted to know if Bella would do it. So, he asked her for permission. “You don’t mind if I have my arm around you?” He could feel his face burning crimson. 
Bella looks at him and says, “Since you asked, I’m okay with it.” If Seonghwa didn’t say anything before touching her, she would either feel uncomfortable or shy by his closure. He gently wraps his arm around her shoulders. Bella hears his heart beating against her ear. In return, she has the bravery to embrace his waist. 
Seonghwa felt her petite arms. Her touch is soft and cozy. 
In the last photo, they look like a real couple. 
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series masterlist
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lilacgaby · 2 months ago
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Your stories are wonderful ♥️♥️
I couldn't stop reading ✨✨
I was thinking about a fantasy AU, where we have the big dragon bakugou and his tiny fairy friend a Tinkerbelk vibe lol
And what would their routine be like, perhaps scaring away some treasure hunters?
I love your stories ♥️✨
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dragonking!katsuki was the most feared king in all the lands. he was strong, wielding a sword he welded with his own flames, magic stronger than a clan of witches, and unforeseen knowledge that always gave him an edge.
how did he get this knowledge you ask? it was a secret to most, however.. only his most trusted dragonknight knew it was because of his pocket-sized fairy, you.
you wore a flower dress of your favorite color, always glowing and shimmery because of the fairy dust you used to keep yourself healthy and flying. you'd found katsuki when he was a prince, he was teary eyed as he sat out in the gardens, upset that his childhood rival had been revealed to have royal blood.
you were lost, still in a white, orchid gown as you slowly flew around, eventually landing on his knee. he eyed you oddly, jumping slightly when you landed on him. though, as he examined you further, he realized that he was being touched by a real fairy. something he'd only heard about in tales he'd hear at night. you spoke to him, though at first he could only hear a bell sound.
he saw you looked frustrated, until smacking your forehead with a "duh!" and flying up to sprinkle him with some fairy dust. after a bit of confusion, he kept his red eyes locked onto you as you cleared your throat. "can you hear me now?" you said, making him speechless. he managed a nod and you continued.
"i don't really know how to get back to my hollow so.. can i stay with you?" you asked, shyly putting one leg behind the other at your request. he sputtered, before managing a, "t-that's cool, fairy girl."
"it's actually [name] random guy!"
"okay [name], uh-- katsuki's fine."
he soon realized not everyone could hear you, and you explained that the fairy dust you used was too valuable to let just everyone use it. he smirked though, happy that he'd be special to you.
you were there as he was sent off on his crowning journey, telling him where to find the best loot, the best resting places you'd remember, and even how to scavenge for food. you'd keep him company through the uncomfortable nights, and he'd carry you in his gloved hands during winter, since your wing's would freeze over.
he'd make you tiny leaf beds and let you sleep a safe distance from his head, he'd make sure you ate and would take you to collect pixie dust from the various trees you'd remember.
with your help, he was the first successful one of all the heirs to help awaken the crimson dragon, officially crowning him king.
he celebrated with you, treating you to maple syrup and finding you the best flowers to finally make you a new dress, topping it all of with a baby's breath crown.
you were always on his shoulder, always hidden by the fur coat he'd adorn. people would find the king randomly smiling as he heard your jokes or comments, but when questioned he'd slam his fist.
the casual day for you two would usually be hunting for treasure. for some reason, fairies were hardwired with amazing intuition that was always correct, so you were like his own metal detector. he'd hold you close to him, a habit he formed after you were snatched out of the sky once by a hawk, and you'd point in the direction you'd need to go.
when he arrived, seeing the pirates already in process of looting the place, he'd ready his magic, whispering to you to get under his coat. he fought off the 20 some men alone, leaving with not only the treasure in the cave, but on the pirates ship too.
as he called his village people to come get their share of the fair amount of treasure, he smiled softly at you, who was now eating some more maple candy he'd got for you on top of his thumb.
he owed it all to you, his fairy.
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can you tell i loved this req??? ty for the support always <3
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bubbleddisasters · 6 months ago
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So I saw a cool ship edit with Cater and Che’nya, and that has given me the confidence to talk about my favorite crackship/Rare pair!
(This is pretty long, sorry!)
Che’nya and Idia!
It originally started out as a joke like “Over Powered Cat Boy x Cat Loving Gamer Boy”, but then I realized how actually good they could be for eachother.
Although they never technically talk in canon, they do meet in Glorious Masquerade for like 6 seconds, but I shipped them prior lol.
Basically, Che’nya would be extremely good for Idia in many ways, I hope its not a bother, but I’ll just list my personal ideas!
(Keep in mind that in Alice in Wonderland, Its stated in “Through the Looking Glass” the Cheshire Cat is the second most powerful being, next to the personification of Time, So I envision Che’nya is pretty op, and theres some evidence to prove that but i’m not going to get in to that right now)
Starting off from Idias side:
One: Lets say Idia refuses to eat or care for himself, Che’nya could teleport away his consoles until he does, or teleport the food to him.
Like : “You won’t shower? Gee I wonder where your routers went.” “Won’t sleep? I opened a portal on your gaming chair that teleports you to your bed” “Won’t drink water? Damn, that figurine near the edge of the table looking real pushable right now.”
We also know that Idia has a huge soft spot for cats. Che’nya is most definitely the most cat like person in the cast. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a cat form. So thats definitely some sway there.
Also, if he does or even if he doesn’t have a cat form, he has a big and floofy tail, and if he does have a cat form, I imagine it to be Mainecoon like (since Che’nya is pretty tall and lanky) so free floof to pet/brush when Idias stressed (also A Whisker Away AU?)
Another thing is Che’nyas invisibility: He can be a comfort for Idia without being seen, so Idias less judged for his anxiousness. Like if Idias in a stressful meeting or something in STYX, He can be there to comfort or calm him without anyones notice. Also, If Idias in a stressful social situation, Che’nya can teleport him or them both away, or make them or just him invisible.
Plus, judging from the most definitely self made artwork on Che’nyas pants, I think its safe to say he’s probably an artist of some sort, and I think he’d be more than willing to indulge/read/play/watch Idias recommendations, and maybe draw something for him. (The requirements are either cuddles or Solving Che’nyas riddles three)
Finally, judging by the fact Che’nya casually waltzes through NRCs magic barrier, which took SEVERAL HIGH TECH STYX STRIKES TO CRACK, often enough for Riddle to be able to say “The Intruder” and everyone just knows its Che’nya.
Also, RSA is THE ENTIRE ISLAND AWAY AND ON A GIANT FUCKING MOUNTAIN, so this means Che’nya is very casually teleporting across the equivalent of atleast a small country without producing jack shit in terms of blot, while (from what we can see on his design) not wearing a mage stone.
He’s also been detaching his own body parts, flying, going invisible, etc since age 5, and from Rollos story we know that amount of magic use would indefinitely kill 80% of people, especially a kid, so knowing that, I’m pretty sure its somewhat safe to say if Che’nya got into S.T.Y.X atleast once so he knows where it is, he’d be able to teleport back in and out (the security team fucking hates him and the blot research team wants to experiment on him.)
With that, Idia wouldn’t feel as if he’s trapping Che’nya down there if they were to tie the knot, and gives the possibility of being able to teleport out to shore for in town dates.
On Che’nyas side, Idia is someone who’s very fun once he sort of lets himself go, and god forbid if those two team up on April Fools.
He’s also someone that is already pretty lonely by nature and I find it extremely plausible Che’nya feels slightly replaced by Cater, and although he definitely still cherishes Riddle and Trey, its nice to have someone that you don’t fear might find a replacement.
Also, at RSA, we know he’s good friends with Neige, but because of Neiges fame, that must be hella stressful when you’re trying to hang out and get jumped by fans or paparazzi.
Not to mention Neige is likely very very busy due to the same factor. I’d also wager most people at RSA are not as much fun to him, considering it’s mentioned they always seem to be perfect and pristine at events.
That cycle of semi- perfect paradise like school days would probably bore him, along with the very bland or stereotypical reactions I can imagine his pranks getting.
So we have on one side the stress of being friends with someone in the limelight at all times, and the stress being chased around when you go to visit your childhood friends + being lowkey replaced.
So someone you can pretty much always count on to be available and a dorm that won’t chase you out (probably too anti-social and/or Socially anxious to do so) and is somewhat willing to indulge in your chaos from time to time, or just play games with.
I could also see Che’nya and Ortho getting along very well too, with Ortho being the most aggressive wingman for Idia. Also, if Che’nya gets Ortho in on pranking Idia, it’s going to turn into a prank WAR.
Also, fun idea, Lilia, Cater and Trey being Che’nyas Wingmen.
I like to imagine Che’nya and Lilia are extremely good friends (They call themselves the Pink Bats and Purple Cats Jumpscarers) and since from what we know, Che’nya only has his grandfather, Lilia emotionally adopted him after Che’nya unintentionally fell asleep in his Cat form in the woods and Lilia told Silver to bring him back because “he was concerned about the high magic levels he sensed” and basically did the equivalent of
—-
Silver: “Father, It might not be a stray-“
Lilia, fully aware its a fae beastman : “Finders Keepers :) “
——
Basically this snowballs into Che’nya getting invited into the dungeon runs with Idia, and yea.
Trey’s wingmanning is 40% trying to make sure Riddle doesn’t catch Che’nya, 20% trying to make sure he doesn’t blow up the kitchen trying to make something for Idia, and 40% being the sane consultant of date ideas, making sure Cater doesn’t go overboard with ship posts, and the preventive measurer to the date ideas recommended by Lilia.
——
“Please do not have a sword duel for a date.”
“Nya? I’d be fun!”
“I don’t see why not. I did that with my lovers back in the day. Melanor in her training uniform was quite a sight to behold, Ravaene also looked fine, I suppose. Poor him was always too easy for us to take out however-“
“Lilia, thats uh, not the point. I don’t trust either of them with weapons.”
“Hm? Silver got his first sword when he was 10 or so. Baul and I refereed Sebek and Silvers first real duel when they were…12, methinks? For all Bauls bragging about his grandson, it was my son who won in the end-“
*Camera pans to a very concerned Riddle in the doorway.*
“What kind of a discussion is going on here?!”
—-
Yea, thats pretty much it!
(If you recognize some of the beginning spiel from a comment section on tiktok yes I wrote that and I got mildly lazy and thought past me explained it pretty well so I copy and pasted a few pieces)
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sitp-recs · 1 year ago
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Happy Friday, friends! I’ve never done monthly wrap ups before but since Wireless pulled me back from a brief hiatus, I thought it would be cool to share some things I’ve been reading, that could use more love. 10 fics both old and new, Drarry and rare pairs, Wireless treats; pick your poison and have fun! 🙌
Drarry
Muscle Memory by @corvuscrowned (E, 7k) - brilliant concept perfectly executed, I’m so here for curse-breaking colleagues who fuck at the job to pass time and then forget about it every time 🤌🏼 genius and intriguing and captivating as per crow’s usual
There's something just beneath the surface, just at the periphery of Harry's mind. They've been here before — they've done this before. If only he could remember it.
And Embers at Your Lips by @nametheshadows (T, 15k) - sequel to one of my all-time favorite 8th year fics with insomniac roommates just as soft and healing as LLAYF. Gorgeous prose and all the kissing. Highly rec this series for A+ comfort food!
The sequel to Like Lightning at Your Fingertips: the kissing montage. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.
Rich Friend, Anon (E, 18k) - one of my faves from Wireless, pop star!Draco never gets old and both the pacing and the romance are perfectly developed! I live for Harry’s horny yearning and for their road trip together, kudos to casual Harry/Neville as a side ship!
As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.
Waking Up Slow, Anon (E, 22k) - this ode to advent Drarry fics took my breath away with a charming Draco, fun dynamics, an enchanting Christmas shop and one of the sexiest smut scenes I’ve read this year, 10/10 recommend for hot & sweet magical vibes and lots of references as an homage to the classics!
'Twas the night before Christmas, although it’s July / Draco’s a shopkeeper, no-one knows why / There’s hiking and witch caves, freak snowfalls and more / Bad Christmas jumpers, nosy neighbours galore / Narcissa’s here too, but… something’s amiss / And what’s in those chocolates that’s making them kiss?
We Are Legend by Vaysh (E, 38k) - happy to report to @romaine2424 that I have finally read this epic apocalypse AU and am shooketh with its originality and serious tone. One of the most creative takes I’ve seen on animagus Draco, a poignant and devastating war story.
Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Cw: MCD
LA, Who Am I To Love You?, Anon (E, 42k) - I cannot believe this beauty was written for my lil Wireless prompt ♥️ perfect LA vibes, gorgeous aesthetics, horny ust and a fascinating take on both down and out bi Harry and out and proud bi Draco, we love to see it! Couldn’t have asked for a better story to fill my prompt, ty anon!
Harry’s summer in LA is not going as expected. Pansy Parkinson keeps inviting him to parties in the Hollywood Hills and harassing him to finally go to the physical therapist, Blaise Zabini keeps slipping new strains of his company’s magical weed into Harry’s pockets in hopes of an endorsement, and Draco Malfoy keeps having sex with everyone but Harry.
Rare Pairs
A Different Tune by November Snowflake (M, 8k) - very nice Dron get together, short & sweet with an undercurrent melancholy that I love, just what I needed before bed
Working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has led Ron to many strange encounters--but none more unexpected than this one. Cw: Harry’s dead
The Years Between by brummell (M, 14k) - another rare pair fave, this Rarry fic told from Ron’s smitten and jealous pov as he helps Harry recover from a coma is so deliciously raw and angsty. Gorgeous slow burn, the feels!
For both Harry and Ron, a wake-up call is just the beginning.
Things Remembered by avioleta (E, 17k) - best Snarry fic I’ve read this year, I’m low key obsessed with this hitmen + amnesia concept and how the romance develops so organically while they’re on the run. Intriguing plot, sexy ust and super scorching smut that made me salivate jfc 🔥
Harry wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar hotel room, and with absolutely no idea who he is. The man he’s in bed with has no memories either. But they think, maybe, they’re assassins, because they seem to be very good at killing people.
A Dress with Pockets by PacificRimbaud (E, 25k) - a Panville classic recced by anon (ty!!), what a sexy and vibrant read! I LOVED Neville and their dynamics are brilliant and so funny, I just couldn’t get enough of these characters. 100% sold on this ship pls and thank
Pansy Parkinson needed a drink. And a shag. She didn't care in which order. Enter: Neville fucking Longbottom and his rolled up sleeves.
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astralcat · 1 year ago
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media i think op characters would like (maybe modern au??)
luffy: spongebob squarepants. it just feels natural
zoro: anything with swords or samurai
nami: enjoyed icarly and victorious as a kid, still does now
usopp: spongebob. he watches with luffy and is like "THERE IT IS THERE IT IS" at the meme scenes. luffy isnt bothered since ace does that too
sanji: sorry but hes a huge theater kid. he has probably dragged zoro's unenthusiastic ass to MULTIPLE broadway shows. his favorite musicals are the ones with ✨️women's wrongs✨️ such as heathers and six: the musical (nami enjoys those types of musicals too)
chopper: my little pony: friendship is magic. his favorite is fluttershy and he relates to twilight sparkle. sorry but i refuse to believe he is an ipad kid. he does play animal jam tho
robin: got introduced to warrior cats by sabo and is HOOKED. she does have some things to say about the overly black and white morality of the series though
franky: top gear
brook: anything on old musicians like queen and the who
jinbe: watches spongebob with luffy and usopp
ace: loved watching the amazing world of gumball as a kid with luffy and sabo, and the three still love the show. he used to play call of duty as a kid and would just devolve into feral screeching and insults whenever he lost, which was a lot of times (he doesnt like to talk about it now) he does still continue to play minecraft. also liked diary of a wimpy kid when he was young and didnt pick up that greg was not supposed to be a role model
sabo: HOO BOY do i have a lot of favorite media hcs for this man. he grew up playing neopets (his favorite is shoyru) and was introduced to digimon through the neoboards, and he still likes both to this day. he introduced warrior cats to robin, but personally likes wings of fire more. he's also into fairy tail and sonic the hedgehog, but is more of a casual fan of both. he plays d&d with ace, luffy and lately robin and law. he was also on deviantart when he was younger, and would regularly upload his fanart there.
law: IM SORRY but he would be a massive homestuck. he also likes undertale and deltarune, and mlp:fim (although if you mention that last one to anyone he'll slit your throat)
momonosuke: kin'emon just gives him a tablet so that he won't bother him. consequence: momonosuke is addicted to skibidi toilet
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bluerose5 · 8 months ago
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[sticks leg out] may we see ur warden(s)/custom hawke(s)/inquisitor(s)
and if u feel like it how would any of them fare if dropped into Faerun (with or without Fenris/Zev)
Ohhh don't get me started!
Garrett Hawke, my beloved, although I hc him as elf-blooded. Ironic enough, in Thedas, "half-elf" or "half-blood" is used as an insult iirc, so imagine his expression to hear people use the term half-elf so casually in Faerûn. Just a little aside.
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For him, he is your typical purple mage Hawke, so I'd definitely say he'd bring that type of energy to Faerûn, no matter what time in his life he's in. He'd be excited as fuck to be in a place where he can use his magic openly without worry, and he would take the adventure in stride, even while he's screaming on the inside. (Still, none of this is as bad as Kirkwall in his opinion. 😆) Somehow gets everyone to fall for him without even trying. Not his first merry band of bi/pan misfits that he's had to deal with.
Then, there is HIM.
Darrian Tabris. My Warden. My Warden-Inquisitor. Love of my life. My angry rebel. The Dark Wolf himself! I djdbdhsbdfkf 😍💖💞💖💞
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Sorry, but he was a character I loved writing so much. Maybe I'll return to his story one day, but my energy has been more devoted to one shots and shorter works these days. It just suits my current habits and lifestyle better than going full multichap.
Darrian is a rogue/mage multiclass thanks to my setup on pc where I utilized the game's console commands and such. He's faced a lot of hardship in the Alienage and puts his people (elves and mages) first. He's also not above using less than savory means of achieving his goal (ex. the power of blood is a badass concept, coating his blades in his tainted blood to seriously fuck up his enemies, this is one of my favorites). He's also not above committing crime to get what he wants, but he grows into being a leader. In one AU I have, he even serves at Alistair's side as king (a poly relationship in this one). He also becomes Inquisitor and demolishes the status quo by encouraging rebellion where he can, so there's that too. 😂
So, with that in mind, how does he fare in Faerûn? Probably thinks it's too cushy compared to Thedas. His temper is his biggest flaw because he's so damn passionate that anything that angers him can set him off. Will be ready to fistfight any oppressive gods or former masters at the drop of a hat because he values freedom above all else. Could probably take Cazador out on his own ngl 💀
And of course Zevran was his romance (surprise, surprise). I don't think they'd necessarily act different around each other in Faerûn, but Zevran’s opinion would hold a lot of weight for him.
Also, semi-related, but I have so much art commissioned of these two. I didn't have my thoughts organized for this post at all so if you have any other questions, please feel free to ask.
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bittersweetcanary · 11 months ago
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Artw Season 2 AU Concepts
(Arcana Twilight belongs to StoryTaco)
These are some of my ideas for an Artw Season 2 AU. Some of it may differ from the original story for the individual characters and plot points using what I know about the current in-game lore and theories on what could be. Please leave any suggestions or ideas in the comments or DM me. 
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MC Summoners (3)
Three Characters will represent the Summoner in the story and have their own alternate stories that will include Diaries related to the Main 3 of the Artw Cast chosen for that Summoner. I want to write for three different Summoners to give the reader a more personal pov if they, hopefully, relate to the character they share the same gender as, or otherwise. No one necessarily will need or have to read one over the other because of their gender, I just want to write it this way. None of the Summoners will be confirmed as cisgender or trans in writing to make it more inclusive, any of them can be read by either or.
One Non-binary person [they/them] with [Spica, Pollux, Sirius] The Summoner, [Y/N], Clever & Anxious
Their Learned Protective Measure: Somehow manages to talk themself out of bad situations
Favorite Food: Pecan Pie (totally important info)
One Man [he/him] with [Alpheratz, Pollux, Arcturus] The Summoner, [Y/N], Curious & Oblivious
His Learned Protective Measure: Summons Alpheratz or Arcturus, Pollux is running away with him
Favorite Food: Chocolate chip cookies
One Woman [she/her] [Sirius, Spica, Vega] The Summoner, [Y/N], Assertive & Cautious 
Her Learned Protective Measure: Learns to play Pable with Vega and proceeds to beat the shit out of predatory individuals
Favorite Food: Anything with or just blueberries
Relevant Diaries: [A Ardent Sunset Wish]
 
The Little Polar Bear, Ursa Minor [Urmi] [it/its] is A funny lil stand-in for short funny little stories on the side or to narrate for kicks.
They’ll each focus on three of the Sorcerers respectively, so each gets some romance scenes. However, they each have a select three of the Sorcerers for romance scenes or anything generally romantic that doesn’t entirely exclude the rest. The others will have smaller roles in personal “Diary” stories and/or generally in the story.
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Side Dynamics between the Artw Cast
Sirius casually flirts with Vega, no one can tell if he is teasing or flirting.
Alpheratz and Spica are bickering like the other married couple they may as well be as usual, especially around the Summoner as if they are competing. It’s like they are trying to make one another jealous rather than become closer to the Summoner sometimes…
Arcturus and Pollux are besties of course!! Always trying to include Vega… It doesn’t work.
Vega cold shoulders everyone except the Summoner- he’s about to take out his sword if Sirius gets any closer- oh no!
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Scenarios After Floor 13, Entering Season 2 Floor 1 (1-1)
What happens after the Summoner is ushered to the rift…
Enby [Y/N] Chooses to stay despite the Artw Cast pushing them to leave, instead attempting to defend, heal, and assist them with Magic and Stratigizing.
Ideas/Possibilities:
Once they turn back to the Artw Cast the rift to MidEarthium closes, and Sirius is immediately pissed at them for their decision, his raised voice alerting the others to the Summoner.
None of them are particularly happy with the Summoner for this as they’d wanted the Summoner to safely return home rather than risk themself against the Monsters and Void Sorcerers aiming to kill the Summoner.
The Summoner couldn’t bring themself to leave the others behind nor did they want to return to MidEarthium because that world hold bad memories they run from.
This Summoner’s Story will be dark at times but eventually become more lighthearted as I’m aiming to give each of them a happy ending.
Man [Y/N] Frightened as ever, he exits through the rift only to quickly regret leaving the Artw Cast to fend for themselves against the monsters/void sorcerers. 
Ideas/Possibilities:
Since we are focusing on the story including the Artw cast we’ll have a time skip from this Summoner entering the rift to when he gets a chance to enter a new “rift” made by Alpheratz many years later.
This Summoner will return to Bound Arlyn with Alpheratz, neither seeming to have aged a day due to their constellation contracts extending their lives.
When they reunite, Alpheratz and the Summoner embrace, crying tears of joy after recognizing one another. Alpheratz, with the Summoner in his arms, falls back onto a grassy field only a few feet from the artificial “rift”. They later meet up with the rest of the Guide Committee, some looking worse for wear but alright in the end. 
This Summoner’s Story will be lighthearted after the initial prolog.
Woman [Y/N] Refuses to leave, instead attempting to assist them by defending and protecting the Artw Cast with their Pable skills and Defensive Magic.
Ideas/Possibilities:
Once they turn back to the Artw Cast the rift to MidEarthium closes, and Sirius is immediately pissed at her for making such a decision, his raised voice alerting the others to the Summoner.
None of them are particularly happy with the Summoner for this as they’d wanted the Summoner to safely return home rather than risk herself against the Monsters and Void Sorcerers aiming to kill the Summoner.
The Summoner swears she can help as she quickly moves to unsheath her Pable Sword and takes an offensive stance, preparing to face the Void Sorcerers/Monsters with the Guide Committee. The Artw Cast begrudgingly accept this because they don’t have much of a choice at this point, they instead work together to keep one another safe.
This Summoner’s Story will show her struggle and triumph over the Void Sorcerers with the Guide Committee.
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My brain decided that this was more important than sleep. DW tho I slept eventually. LMAO
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jazzystudios82 · 4 months ago
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Diabolik Lovers - An Angel's Embrace AU: Akira Amor-Sakamaki 🩸
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Bio for one of my Diabolik Lovers OCs, who is part of an upcoming fanfic. (Image made with Picrew). Please note that some of the information written here is privy to change in the near future as the story is still in development.
WARNING: Diabolik Lovers is a dark series with mature themes and topics. Discretion is advised. . . .
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Biographical Information
Kanji: 明
Romaji: Sakamaki-Amor Akira
Nickname(s): Karlheinz's Precious Heir; Big Bro/Brother (The Triplets); The Runt (Cordelia)
Aliases: Anselm
Birthday: February 26th
Sign: Pisces
Age: 23 (physically; actual age is unknown).
Status: Alive (Resurrected)
Physical and Vital Statistics
Race: 1/2 First Blood, 1/2 Vampire
Ethnicity: Mexican & Japanese
Gender: Male
Height: 2 inches taller than Shuu
Weight: Unknown
Blood Type: O Negative
Eyes: Silver
Hair: Light Pink
Professional Status
Occupation: Karlheinz's Heir; Carla and Shin's servant (former)
Affiliation: The Sakamaki Family; The Tsukinami Family
Personal Status
Family:
Giesbach + (Maternal Biological Grandfather); Gabriel (Maternal Step grandfather); Carmen + (Maternal grandmother); Wolfgang + (Adopted Father); Karlheinz (Biological Father); Angelica (Mother); Richter (Paternal Uncle); Carla (Maternal Uncle); Shin (Maternal Uncle); Camilo (Maternal Uncle); Victor (Maternal Uncle); Shu (Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Reiji (Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Ayato (Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Kanato (Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Laito (Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Subaru (Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Kino (Adoptive Brother/Paternal Younger Half-Brother); Various unnamed cousins (through mother's side)
Hobbies: Sword fighting
Favorite Food: Udon
VC (Voice Claim): The Wolf from Puss in Boots: The Last Wish
Akira Amor-Sakamaki (Sakamaki-Amor Akira) is the eldest son of Karlheinz and Angelica, and is the true eldest of the Sakamaki brothers. He was born during his mother's second marriage.
Appearance
Akira is a handsome young man who has inherited some of his mother's features: messy light pink hair and lovely silver eyes. Like his younger sister Sofia, Akira has lightly tanned skin that he inherited from his grandmother Carmen, and a beauty mark near his lips, though his is on the right side of his face. He has pierced ears that have several silver colored piercings. When Akira was attacked and killed, he gained a scar on the left side of his face that stayed with him when he was brought back. After his resurrection, Akira gained two tattoos, one on his face and one on his neck, since the way he was brought back used black magic.
For casual wear, Akira wears a white turtleneck sweater, a leather jacket, sunglasses with colored lenses, blue jeans, and black boots.
When he was going by the name Anselm and served Carla and Shin, Akira wore a dark cloak and mask that covered a majority of his face.
Personality
While intimidating at first glance, Akira is actually rather approachable and friendly when someone gets to know him better. He's a laid back guy who knows when to get series when the situation calls for it, particularly when it came to the Tsukinami brothers.
When he was a child, this was more evident. He was also very playful with his brothers and liked to tease them, especially Reiji, whom he gave the nickname "Pigeon" (often shortening it to "Pidge").
History
Akira is the eldest son of the Vampire King, Karlheinz Sakamaki, and his fourth wife, Angelica. He was four years old when Shu was born, five when Reiji was born, six when the triplets were born, and seven when the youngest brother Subaru was born. However, Akira never really got the chance to meet them all until Shu was four himself, which was during a family dinner where all of Karlheinz's wives and children had to be present.
Relationships
Akira's relationships with the Sakamaki family.
For Akira's relationship with Yui Komori.
For Akira's relationship with the Mukami family.
For Akira's relationship with the Tsukinami family.
For Akira's relationship with the Amor family.
Powers & Abilities: Inhuman strength; increased vision and sense of smell; increased speed and hearing; fast healing; healing saliva; teleportation; flying (during a full moon); swordsmanship
Etymology
Akira's surname from his mother's side, Amor, means "love".
Akira's surname from his father's side, Sakamaki, means "reverse winding" (逆巻).
Fun Facts
Akira is loosely based off of characters such as DC Comic's Jason Todd from the Batman series, and Anthony and Benedict Bridgerton from Netflix's Bridgerton.
The original nature of Akira's birth took inspiration from Terry McGinnis's origins in the animated series Batman Beyond: like Terry's adoptive father Warren, Wolfgang's genetic reproductive material would have been altered with Karlheinz's own DNA, meaning that any children Angelica would have had with Wolfgang would be Karlheinz's biologically. Also, the nature of Akira's death and resurrection also took inspiration from a DC Comics property, the animated film Batman: Under the Red Hood. Akira's origins was changed to simply make it that his mother Angelica gave birth to the eldest son, and because Karlheinz was deeply infatuated with her, he made Akira his heir.
Akira knows how to speak English, Spanish, Japanese, German, and French.
He doesn't like strawberry ice cream, but enjoys other strawberry flavored treats.
After his death, many portraits of Akira were made and placed all over the mansion.
Because of his tattoos, Akira has some issues with going to some onsens (Japanese hot springs and bathing facilities) and beaches.
His favorite book is Rebecca.
Akira has nicknames for all of his brothers.
His least favorite play of all time is Romeo and Juliet.
Akira, while going by the name Anselm, got along pretty well with Carla and Shin, as he never caused any unnecessary issues for them.
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I feel like I made this one a bit too angsty, so sorry about that.
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ladyxskywalker · 2 years ago
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A Beautiful Pleasure
Klaus Mikaelson x Werewolf OFC
falling in love happens when least expected, even faster when your dreams seem to have plans of their own
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rating: T | word count: 1.5k
a soulmate au for the moon in may challenge 🌙 hosted by @lavenderursa 🌸
prompt - perfume (week one - new moon)
Just before nightfall, when the Summer air is calm, all else seems to fall away. The sky becomes a softened shade of blue, fading with a certain kindness beneath all the clouds. It makes it so that a rose colored glow marries all of the water when the sail boats pass by. Their sounds, as vivid as the ones in your dreams, awakening your mind to something – or rather, someone you’d once seen before.
When your eyes finally close after having been so restless from your days spent running or hiding from yourself, there’s always that certain distance to be found there, throughout every shadow covered corner. There is only a small inkling of light in your slumber, fanning past – waning. Like an overcast morning where your sight tends to squint throughout a mask of fog.
And so, you wander. Slowly, and the slightest bit unsure. Set out upon a path toward nowhere beneath what soon will be a universe of stars. A darkened sort of magic that reveals a silhouette waiting for you amongst the forest shore line – the bayou’s river passing right through where that mysterious figure tends to stand amidst your mind’s eye above it all.
There’s a man forlorn in his stillness, his back turned away from you, so pensive and brooding. An enigma who from what you’ve been sensing, has been holding onto centuries worth of demons made all his own. His hands, all the while, wound tight inside his jacket’s pockets, as if he couldn’t make sense of what to do with them there at all.
should I call out to him?
You wonder.
But you don’t – silently hoping for this vision to become more clear so that perhaps you might not have to.
Is he someone I know?
and why does this endless stream of water glisten here so peacefully? despite all that I sense here that he might feel?
how is it then, that this gentleman always seems so lost, when it is me who has longed forever to be found?
For a single moment, you had wished that he’d been real.
And in those vivid dreams, amongst every uncertain eclipse he had been.
Atleast…
That’s what you’d like to believe...
Every night when looking up towards all the cloud cover, hoping for the rising of a new moon to come, you had yearned for him. Even through the pain and struggle of when you turned. Your emotions felt completely heightened and deepened by an immortal heart unseen. An unexplained, possible manifestation that you hadn’t realized you’d been conjuring up for yourself for far too long.
And maybe that’s all that it was – a pure and senseless bit of imagining.
Hanging onto each cycle of the moon, until it was time to transform yet again, and you’d wake up shrouded by your tattered clothes in a mess of dirt and brush, entirely unable to forget all about whoever this person was...
That is until you’d gone to the cobblestone square one evening just to paint – to look upon the fountain at the city’s center as though it had been the only thing to fill your heart’s most precious cup.
The one thing that spoke to you – the falling water, and how it traced every stitch of your memory with the trickling of its sound; a song left adrift just as much as you’d been meandering all alone in your thoughts...
A quiet artist who’d sought emotional release in a blank canvas, finding it easiest just to settle on one color in particular. Cool and steady strokes evoking all hope to be found inside a visual story of depth and shadow, forever told by way of sight and fingertips.
Depictions of possibilities perhaps you had been missing in the time you’d be focusing on the thoughts entwined by strangers.
“Ah, prussian blue, one of my favorites…”
Beside you there is an elegant whisper to be felt – a gentleman, sharply dressed, yet somehow casually timeless, who sits down with his own work to fold into, interpreting all of his surroundings in ways that speak to having intricately spent time with all of them there once before.
He’s gleaming with a sense of arrogance and an overall insufferable kind of certainty. A prominent, modern day renaissance man who knows exactly what he’s doing. Incredibly handsome with a subtle grin to be shared only in the quiet to be had amongst yourselves. Waves of light hair to accentuate the features you secretly wish for in those seconds to spend an irrational amount of time with. And now you’ve begun to fully understand what your confusing dreams had been about…
The act of stumbling upon someone in the daylight who just might have taken all your breath away…
An accent and capable lilt to his speech that has you hanging onto every word, no matter how simply put the sentiment…
And you wonder then whether or not you should keep talking to him.
He notices how you’ve been looking – far too strange, and excited; curious even, as if you’d been caught up all the while in your staring. Smiling lovingly as if you’d known him in many passing lifetimes there before. A slip of amused laughter, and a shake of your head in disbelief, sifting through secrets you only wish to tell, had you been yourself.
But it’s those deep shades of alizarin crimson that have you all but forgetting who and where you are, watching him as he begins dampening the tips of all his brushes once he’s started on a picture just waiting to unfold. A handsome grin written across his face, as though he just couldn’t quite keep it all to himself.
If his eyes hadn’t been so startling and breathtaking in those passing moments, you probably would have let something slip by now.
And so he breaks the weightlessness of which you feel with the trailing off of something else.
A good kind of different to make up for the wordless shift you’d been taking on all by yourself...
But not anymore.
“...a remarkable pigment used by…”
“Van Gogh. Starry Night – I know.”
You smile, playfully, hoping that there’s the slightest chance he’s caught on to your hint of flirting. That when he gives it to you right back, you aren’t worried anymore about the possibility of ever having been rude.
“Apologies. Perhaps I’ve forgotten that there are other people in this city that do in fact appreciate fine art.”
Looking down upon his palette, your stranger for the time being begins to swirl his brush around in a mason glass jar of water, grinning once more – relaxed, and revealing nothing; intrigued.
“Mm. What is that?”
"I'm sorry?”
“Something truly divine…that scent. Can you place it?”
Honing in on the softened breeze that passes by so freely, your senses seem to cloud what’s left of all your better judgment. Sensing the inner lady wolf inside yourself, and letting her take over.
“Hm. Citrus, Spice…an intense hint of Lavender?”
He shakes his head, setting down his brushes. Shifting against the small table in front of him that’s been housing all of his pleasantries and wildly drawn marks.
“Magnolia. Jasmine, then…Lotus flower.”
Looking toward him then, it feels as though there is a powerful pull between you; his eyes, alight all at once with a mysterious and youthful sense of wonder, changing incredibly from a piercing tint of blue toward a brightened, honeyed gold.
A glimpse of something you’d only ever heard about in tales told along the river when you were little…
Woven stories kept safest with many generations of your elders.
soul bonds.
twin flames.
wolves meant for one another who’d been separated by ages of anguish and millennia…
had your sight just done the very same? had he known?
“I am wearing perfume, but usually it’s very subtle. I’m surprised you’ve picked up on all of its underlying notes…I’m rarely one to be seen as something other than invisible.”
“You are far from that, sweetheart.”
And then, there’s a pause to be had where you’d both left your forgotten artwork.
darling, bashful girl…
“You’re kind…”
“Doubtful. Some might even say otherwise…”
“Really?”
“Care to find out?”
The gentleman stands, offering his hand to you – cheeky, though welcome and completely old fashioned. A sudden glimmer of blind faith to set you both free from the torment of small talk. Discussing fragrances as if all of that had been normal.
he can’t be human.
another wolf, perhaps?
an ancient alpha?
or something else?
Nodding in the closing space between you, your hand settles down into a perfect fit inside his own, smooth to the touch, and somehow entirely unbreakable.
You want to know what it feels like to breathe again, but this impenetrable feeling bearing down upon your chest right now seems so overwhelming – both too much, and not enough at the same time.
It’s him.
the man by the glistening dream river.
“Forgive me for not introducing myself…”
It’s her.
the young woman I somehow could not bring myself to turn around for…
“Klaus. Perhaps you’ve heard of me, Little Wolf …”
he knows…
“Such a beautiful pleasure.”
…💞
a/n – thanks so much for reading 💫 this is my first piece of writing that i’m posting since nov. been on hiatus for a while. felt the spark ! hope you do too. all the love always xo
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uyuartik · 4 months ago
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othello ch.4| anakin skywalker x reader
tags: othello au mini series, no major character death (just want to make that clear), borderline dark fic, and now we're back to the plot things, iago is at it again, lots of angst, only 2 chapters left...
summary: It's Iago's turn to make a move.
also crossposted on ao3!
word count: 1183
prologue | ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | finale
chapter 4
Hearing about Anakin’s little visit to your room, Iago was on edge- he knew he needed to act and he needed to act fast. Having Emilia trapped in a cage, he used those precious moments exactly right, having her steal your handkerchief while you prepared for a bath. She almost got caught, out of guard when she noticed your cheery attitude. The piece of fabric was on the edge of slipping through her fingers as she moved to ask you about it, but you interrupted with a giggly remark about- whatever, she was distracted like you, and with the feeble task of fetching you another bottle of rose oil she left your room.
She had another moment of shock when she ran into Anakin after that little escape- in your hallway, at this hour? She was not God’s favorite that day, was she?- and Anakin had a sense that she was not agitated because of the usual prejudice they all had for him; for not sharing their native land, for picking up this career older than most of his colleagues yet surpassing them in every category. No, she had an acute worry, yet, Anakin was never the type to corner a lady and get the information out, even though it bothered him dearly, her scurrying away from your room like that. She was one of your dear friends, you spent most of your time with her- he couldn’t help but feel concerned.
Yet, the day took a different turn when Iago continued with his second act: planting evidence and calling for the witness. Poor Anakin… Hours, it took him hours to breathe properly again, his mind and his heart waging a strong battle. A little whisper from the depths of his spirit told it was impossible; that something, some great game was afoot, but his eyes had seen the undeniable proof- the handkerchief he gave you, laying casually on Cassio’s dirty nightstand, further stained by his bragging about the whore he had gotten it from. Anakin didn’t know why he didn’t slit his throat at that moment. His captain and his wife. The two people he trusted the most on this planet. Like an earthquake that destroyed his world, but he felt no shaking or the smoke- a blink and all was upside down.
It sounded like an old tragedy or a curse, and he rejected that fate.
He saw you first, when he came home. You were talking to the servants, and if that invisible string you both referred to from time to time weren’t magically real, you would keep talking, not noticing the piercing gaze of those blue eyes. It only took seconds for you to search for his presence, and locate him, totally missing out on the concerned look on the faces of the maids as they took their leave.
Your radiant smile only beamed lighter as he approached with big steps, heavy boots thudding against the marble, the front of his shirt tugged open. Of course, that impossibly stubborn expression of fury on his face distorted yours as well.
“My lord!” You greeted him, most welcome. There was a time he wouldn’t let either of you leave this entereé without a kiss, without your laughter echoing throughout the walls.
He nodded, tongue-tied at the first sight of you.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” You continue. God, you missed him. “You came so late, and we barely speak these days- there are matters we should discuss-“
“Like what, my dear wife?”
“I’ve been wishing to speak to you about Cassio.”
That wretched name made his head boil. “I think we got better things to talk about.” While he wasn’t trying to lure you into a trap, he hoped for a swift confession.
“My lord, it’s been weeks since you stripped him of his rank, it is enough-“
“Angel, care to lend me your handkerchief, it has been a hot day.”
“Here.”
“No, the one I gave you.”
You frowned, realizing that while this was very similar, it wasn’t the one. But you never carried another, or opted for a change today. “I- I took a bath this morning. It probably got mixed up between my clothes, I’ll look for it when I go to my room.”
“You need to do better than that. You know it was my mother’s, right?”
Your heart dropped and your face went pale.
“She told me that the enchantress who gave it to her promised that whoever had it would be blessed with a faithful partner, peace of mind in the marriage. It would bind them together with an unbreakable bond, and if it werelost- or given to another,” That was the part you shook your head “loath would spurt and eyes would seek others.”
He wouldn’t. He just said it to hurt you, and you can’t argue that you don’t deserve it.
“My lord, I swear it was here this morning- I always put it in my drawer in the night to keep it safe.”
Safe. He chuckled with fried nerves. Safety and trust were the two pillars that had crumbled and fallen to his feet. “Who did you give it to?”
The accusation took your breath away, and you couldn’t answer for a second. “Nobody- I never give it to anybody, I even wash it myself to keep others from touching it.”
“So, what you mean to say, is that I am unable to keep my house safe, and perhaps somebody came here and took it?”
“No, NO!” Somehow, him accusing himself was worse. “Our home- the entire Mediterranean Sea is safe because of you. It was you who assured it.” You sniffled. “I don’t understand, I didn’t give it away, and nobody took it- why would anyone take” God, you couldn’t even use the word “steal” “the token of our love, the sacred bond between us? Who could dare to disrespect our holy union- it is an insult to God. None- no soul in our home could be so evil.”
Evil. How little you knew of it- how little you believed in it.
It felt like somebody was tearing down his heart in two; the fire consumed it, and your tears turned it to ashes. He couldn’t dislodge the knife of betrayal away, yet he couldn’t believe he was stabbed at all- your hand was not fit to wield that blade.
He ran his hand through his locks, his breath unsteady. Taking a few steps back, he tried to collect his thoughts,- the task proven to be impossible as the sound of your sobs filled the room, and you were frozen with indecision, reaching out to him or searching the house brick by brick til you found it, you could never lose it, it surely was somewhere in here.
Then, he exited the same way he came, all fiery and stormy, rocking your world again. You rushed to your room and yanked the drawer of your vanity so hard that it came loose, and you rummaged through the white fabrics that had fallen to the floor- and then the next drawer…
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