#he brings it down a little. and i started singing it like that and it stuck and i'm obsessed now

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic Idea: A little bit of Home

One day, out of the blue, J'onn J'onzz asks if he could celebrate a Martian holiday. He hadn't before, seeing as the pain of losing his people and his home was too fresh, but he missed the holidays of Mars. He felt that if he didn't try to bring back some of his celebrations, then they, too, would be lost to death.

His teammates were happy to celebrate with him; they were touched by his sharing this part of his culture. J'onn explained that all they had to do was bring a childhood food item to feast on. He explains that on Mars, recipes were passed down for generations, and having the ancestral food of friends and family was the second most crucial part of his holiday.

They are then left stunned when he admits that the feast is traditionally held that same night, but he had been too nervous to mention it beforehand. He allows them to change their minds, but no one dares to.

Heroes pour out of the Watch Tower, racing home to begin cooking, and the Martian is told that as soon as they have something, they will return in time for the meal.

No one mentions the tears gathering on the smiling Martian's face. Nor do they say that his humanoid form falls away to his proper form, a rare occasion to witness.

J'onn then starts decorating the Watch Tower as the Justice League members work on what they will each bring.

He places a lot of shimmering rocks in patterns on the ground. They weave and curl through the hallways as members are careful with no stepping on them. He then has Batman help him find different minerals that change the color of sand used in gorgeous art portraits of each member. (The man was more than capable of sending him information while helping Alfred bake cookies)

It took a bit of flying around the world, but he was able to return to the tower a few hours later with all-natural colored sand. (Thank goodness for the teleportation technology Bruce installed)

By then, a few heroes had returned, each carrying a food or drink container.

Those he forms in the cafeteria where the feast will be held. A crowd of heroes stands around, oohing and ahhing, as J'onn uses his telekinesis to move the sands and create all of them simultaneously, putting on a show.

He is singing hauntingly beautiful songs while hanging colorful drapes around the walls in the last few hours leading up to the feast. No one could understand the words, but everyone agreed that J'onn had an incredible voice.

Clark, arriving with three Kent apple pies, smiles. "He sang that at my house on Christmas Day."

J'onn informed everyone that the event would be formal wear- and everyone showed up dressed to the nines. Heroes who still hid their secret identity- like Batman- had arrived in their costumes, but they had added bowties or some other little accessories to make it formal.

Seeing Nightwing fix the tophat on Batman's head while Red Hood was dressed in a lovely suit, forgoing his usual helmet for a red half mask, was..... enlightening.

A few drinks were served while people walked around admiring the sand painting that J'onn had made. He depicted not only the heroes but also multiple parts of the world, then a section of their best missions, and finally, paintings of good memories they had all shared.

It was like a walkable photoalbum.

Spirits were high as members enjoyed themselves, smiling at the memories and chatting with friends in the few peaceful times of their crazy lives. No one could hold in the gasp when J'onn finished getting ready and arrived at the party. He had painted himself in different shades of blue, beaming in pride at the praise for his cultural markings.

He asked everyone to sit, standing to pray in his native tongue. A few heroes bowed their heads, and others merely sat comfortably, waiting for the Martian to finish.

He picked up his cup, raising it high in the air with his hand

"Friends," J'onn started, voicing, choked up with emotion. "I thank you all for joining me today. It means the world to me that you come here to celebrate the King's Feast. May Phantom watch over you all and freeze all your enemies!"

His cup floats out of his hand, turning to the side so the water can fall out and take the shape of a strange D. J'onn bowes his head, crossing his arms and muttering more prayers.

John Constantine, who had been attempting to sneak bites from the steak and kidney he brought, drops his fork. He stares in absolute shock at the flouting water symbol above the martian before Zatanna slaps him on the shoulder. "Don't be rude!"

He points one shaking finger at the Martian, turning to her with a pale face. "The Martians worship King Phantom!?"

She blinks. "Who's that?"

John moves his jaw, but no words leave his mouth as J'onn finishes his last prayer. He then holds up a plate proudly, explaining what it is and why he chose it to share. He encourages every hero to do the same, so voices fill the air one by one as they present their offering and the memory attached to it.

No one pays much mind to the blond British man desperately drawing wards on the ground using his green-colored chalk. When asked what her husband was doing, Zatanna shrugs helplessly.

Likewise, no one notices some of the plates mysteriously lose some of their contents. The food appears on Earth in the room of a very excited Halfa, who feeds on the foods and the emotions weaved into the meals.

J'onn later claims that this Great One Day felt like King Phantom was slightly closer than usual.

[jules-ln]

I've seen a lot of people say that Viktor was controlled/corrupted by the hexcore and that's why he did everything

But personally I don't think that's the case

Like maybe... getting convinced by it, like the friend that just keeps telling you "yes! That's a great idea", but not controlled. Viktor always had it in him to do that, even in s1

Let me explain

Viktor is this character that I don't think I get completely, so I keep thinking about him. But I see people say "Oh, he's getting controlled because Viktor isn't like this at all" or "that's not Viktor" and the thing is; I don't agree

I think Herald Viktor is the real Viktor, same as s1 Viktor, it has always been him 100%

First we don't actually know how Viktor is with most people. Most of the time we see him, he's interacting with Jayce, and I think we can admit that Viktor has a lot of affection for Jayce

But we see him interacting with Mel briefly And I always found funny how he reacts when she brings up the hextech weapons, all dramatic and offended, he's like "Absolutely not!" But then he "calms down" as soon as he sees that Jayce isn't supporting him, he even looks a bit sad

I'm mentioning this because of how different he acts with Ambessa later when she asks him for an immortal army; he agrees with everything she wants, of course he won't give her that, he just wants to trick her into helping him, but it does makes me think that had he been alone when Mel started asking about building weapons, or had he known that Jayce wouldn't support him, he probably would've acted in a similar way to how he was with Ambessa, agreed with everything Mel wanted to get her off his business while he thought of another solution

And my point with this is, I think a lot of people assume that Viktor is an innocent little angel that is always honest and just wants to do good; but we only see him being honest with Jayce (most of the time); because he truly trusts him (tbf he's also honest with Singed, but I think he probably has affection for him as well); with the rest of the world Viktor is more than able to lie and manipulate to get what he wants; he isn't necessary a 100% good perfect person

Now, let's looks at how Viktor acts in the commune, because I think everyone can agree independently of whether you think the hexcore was controlling Viktor, that at this moment Viktor is still pretty much in control of himself and his actions

There's this comic called "a perfect life" about LoL Ekko, where Viktor is the antagonist; it has an oddly similar plot to the second season of arcane, (apparently this comic is from 2023 and by that time Arcane s2 was probably on the last part of production, so Idk why it's similar, but anyway!) In the comic, there's a rich dude offering free prosthetics (augmentations? Let's be honest they are futuristic prosthetics) to the people of Zaun, and everyone goes to get one part of their bodies replaced with technology willingly. Then later it's revealed that Viktor is the one actually doing all the surgeries lmao

But that got me thinking, Viktor in LoL doesn't need better morals, he needs better PR!

Because, people want Viktor's help, the only part they don't like it's the losing humanity and free will, which, understandable

But then, why does everyone still go to Viktor in the series? Because he isn't saying the whole truth

When Ambessa asks him if he could inhabit his followers, Viktor simply says they all share one mind and that it was part of his glorious evolution. He doesn't act surprised, It doesn't seem like he didn't know, he simply shrugs and is like "Yes, this was part of what I wanted"

But he never said that to his followers? When Vi and Jinx are talking to Viktor about healing Vander, Viktor never says "oh, btw, if I do this, your dad is going to lose his individuality and become part of my hive mind, hope that's ok :)". No, he simply says that he'll do what he can to heal him.

And again, you could argue that he lied because the hexcore was controlling him, but I still think that lying was 100% Viktor's choice and the only thing the hexcore could do or did was suggest him to do so

Why am I so sure Viktor wasn't controlled in this moment?

Remember when Viktor first meets Vander, Sky; who is very heavily implied to be the Hexcore, tells him to not save him because it would be too taxing to do so for Viktor. And he says no, that he wants to help Vander, because he thinks Vander it's worth it.

And I think that's all the power the Hexcore has over Viktor, suggest certain things, but at the end Viktor it's still on control; because if Viktor is the Hexcore's host, then it would be very detrimental for both of them if Viktor lost all his energy, both of them could die if that happened; yet Viktor ignored it for Vander's sake

So the lying by omission he did with his commune, if it wasn't his idea, it was something he 100% agreed with. And again, Viktor isn't 100% innocent, he's an intelligent man that knows how to lie and manipulate and will do so if he thinks it's necessary

(Which makes it so old Viktor in LoL is more honest than Arcane Viktor and that's so funny to me lmao)

Now, I know people say that Herald Viktor it's a corrupted version of Viktor, but I don't think so. Not corrupted, but something Viktor always had the potential to be. Herald Viktor was the version of him with the most control over his actions and surrondings; he's the Viktor that was always inside him, the person he would've been if he didn't feel limited by his own body, by his social status, by where he was born, and this shows on how this parallels Jayce's arc

I've seen a lot of people saying that Jayce went through what Viktor had to suffer, having to climb up from the deepest parts of Zaun with a hurt leg to the top of Piltover, only that with Jayce it was literal. But I saw someone on tiktok (I don't remember the account and I can't find the video anymore, sorry :( ) pointing out that Viktor also had to go through what happened to Jayce in the first season

In the first season, Jayce was a scientist with a pretty face and charming personality that was seduced by power, he was suddenly given a lot of it, and instead of holding onto his ideals, he turned away from them. He became a corrupt politician and then used that power to betray Heimerdinger, someone who was very important to him. Later he thought himself judge, jury, and executioner and that resulted in a child from Zaun dying

Viktor finds himself in a similar position, a scientist with a healthy perfect body that was suddenly given a lot of power, he became the leader of a community, someone people looked up to for guidance and help. And then after Jayce rejected him he also thought he was judge, jury, and executioner with the right to do whatever he wanted because he was right and everyone else was wrong. The problem being that Viktor had way more power than Jayce ever did

So, if anything Viktor wasn't being corrupted by the Hexcore, the thing that seduced Viktor was power over other people

And you could say "Viktor during the first season wasn't like that at all" but it's easier to be a good person when you don't have the choice to harm others

Another point to add it's that Arcane is a series that uses a lot of visual storytelling, if you just hear the dialogue you are missing 50% percent of the story at the very least; it trusts you to see what's going on

Now, after Ekko throws the Z drive at him and breaks the mask of the Arcane Herald; we can see the real Viktor underneath

I think this is why a lot of people think the Hexcore was controlling Viktor because we see the Arcane Herald, then we see "real" Viktor underneath, but that's not necessarily the case. In that moment we see half of Viktor's face, but look at what we can exactly see; his whole mouth and one eye are visible

Viktor is seeing what's going on, he understands what is happening around him; but he isn't seeing the whole picture, hence why it's only 1 eye. But his mouth is completely uncovered, whatever he says, that is 100% Viktor no doubt

And if Viktor was truly being controlled by the Hexcore/arcane/void/whatever, that would be the perfect moment for Viktor to snap out of it. For Viktor to say "this isn't me" and fight to get away from the corrupting force

But that isn't what happens, what happens is that Viktor is confused by Jayce's insistence and he says "Why do you persist? After everything I've done" this isn't Viktor saying "oh, I'm being controlled, help" this is him saying "I've done horrible things, why don't you hate me?"

So, Viktor was 100% aware of what was happening, he understood that what he was doing was wrong, and he still did it anyway

To add to this, there's this meme about Arcane that said something like "when in Arcane somebody is robbing banks and killing people the songs will start saying "oh, I'm robbing banks and killing people"" and that's true, and sometimes it's funny; but other times it's useful because the songs say things we aren't seeing

The line is 100% Viktor's song; it's the song that's playing as he erases Vander's memories (and the memories of the rest of his followers as well probably) and decides to give in and transform into the Herald

Once again, if the Hexcore was controlling Viktor, I think the song would've said something like "there's demons in my head" or "I can't help myself"

But no, the line is about someone, in this case Viktor; thinking about the consequences of his actions and if he's ready to accept them

The part where it says

"Honestly

I thought I was fully prepared for

The threshold in store

Stay your pretty eyes on course

I guess I never really faced my fears before

So stay with me because"

For me it's Viktor basically saying "I thought I was ready for the world (Jayce) to hate me; but I'm not so sure if I can face my fears of being alone"

Again, it's not about him not being in control, it's about him knowing that what he's doing is wrong, and that there'll be consequences, but he isn't sure if he's ready to deal with them

Then later, when Jayce shows him what mage Viktor saw; I think for him it was like himself confirming what he already thought or had an idea of what was going to happen, the consequences aren't worth it

After that, when we see Viktor again, this time he is fully visible, with both eyes uncovered because he can finally see the whole picture

But now that I've said that I don't think he was being controlled the question remains, then why was he doing all of that?

And this is more my interpretation of Viktor's story more than anything that happens in the show

So, look at Viktor, he was born in Zaun, disabled, sick, poor; but he managed to climb out of the undercity to Piltover going beyond the social structures that held him back, and even then, he only ever managed to be an assistant to Heimerdinger. That wasn't what he wanted, he himself says it, he was capable of so much more. And I think that Heimerdinger made the mistake of not believing (maybe not on a conscious level) that Viktor could be more; then along comes Jayce; and listen, if Viktor was the only one who truly believed in Jayce, I think the opposite it's also true, Jayce was the only one who believed in Viktor's true potential

Now put yourself in Viktor's shoes, nobody has ever believed in you, you had to drag yourself to the top; then you died and were brought back to life by this monstrous thing that you created that killed an innocent bystander, so you decided to run away to try to make your dream of helping people come true and redeem yourself (because the commune was that for Viktor, his dream of the glorious evolution) just for the only person who truly believed in you, probably the most important person in your life, coming back and rejecting you? I too would want to tear apart the world piece by piece

And the funny part, it's that Viktor is 100% using logic to justify his very irrational decision; no he isn't doing it because he's hurt, he's doing it because he wants to help people! He wants to stop suffering and the best way to do that is to erase free will

That's why I think what Viktor said after being confronted with Jayce in the Astral plane is so important "Why do you persist? After everything I've done" in my mind, after Jayce's rejection, he decided to give up and to do the bad thing; he knew it was wrong, but he decided to do it because he was hurt and wanted to hurt back, then he justified it by saying it was what it was necessary to do

And the funny part is that Singed already explained Viktor's motivation during the series "Why does anyone commits acts others deem unspeakable? For love"

Also, my last point on why I don't think it was Viktor being controlled or corrupted by the hexcore; simply because it would be very boring to do so lmao

Like, if Viktor was being controlled, suddenly a lot of what makes him interesting and complex is gone. So I prefer to think it was Viktor all along, that he always had it in him to do horrible things

[mochinomnoms]

How do you think explaining Christmas would go down with the boys? I'm specifically looking at Krampus, cause the holiday is all about joy and hope and lights and and giving, and then there's just this half goat demon man that will stuff you in a sack and torture you for Your Sins.

The story of Krampus is actually really metal tbh. There was this evil butcher that killed, chopped, and salted these three kids that were hanging outside his shop, and then St. Nicholas came along and uses the Power Of God to commit actual fucking necromancy to bring the kids back to life. God then cursed this butcher to follow around St. Nich as a punisher that comes around every December 5. The French call him "the whipping father" it's fucking insane actually.

Some of the holiday is also a little weird when you put it into perspective, like: oh yeah, there's this red guy that you write letters to and then he breaks into your house and you leave an offering of milk and cookies for him in exchange for candy and gifts :D! He also has flying reindeer with very cute names btw! But we're not going to talk about that actually cause now we have to decorate this whole ass pine tree that I brought into ramshackle :D it's gonna be great! :D

Bro imagine giving them advent calendars! Those little ones with the small toys or chocolates- give one to Riddle he needs one. Lots of sugar intake to catch up on

🦩

To be real, I was raised very Catholic (ew) and traditionally Mexican so my Christmas stuff is very different from what you see on TV and like in Hallmark movies.

So like, we celebrated it as a religious holiday, so the Santa stuff is kinnda foreign to me, I only heard about it from school. We still got presents and stuff, but I remember doing Posadas, which is children reenacting the Mary and Joseph seeking shelter by going to houses and singing and asking for shelter. At the end we go to one of the parents' houses or to the church and have a little party! We also didn't really decorate like I've seen in American homes, we had like a cute tree usually, but mostly decorated the altars to La Virgen and the Nativity scene.

The biggest difference I've found is that we celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve instead; we had Nochebuena, so we'd go to midnight mass, have dinner, and at midnight we open presents. Technically, kids didn't get presents because of Santa or anything like that, we got it cause kids get gifts like how the three kings gave baby Jesus presents. Though that also is a different winter holiday in January or February, not sure. When I got older my family started getting more Americanized, and my brothers got the whole Santa deal, but we still did a lot of the church stuff.

Considering that there is no mention of any sort of religious institution in Twisted Wonderland, I imagine my explanation of Christmas would be very foreign. Though Noble Bell College basically being Notre Dame in the Masquerade event and Rollo practically inventing Catholic guilt in a world without Catholics has some implications? I actually don't think there is any mention of any deities that the cast or world in general worship, though perhaps it's implied with Hades? He's not referred to as God of the Underworld though, he's King so maybe??

This got off-topic, but I like to think any explanation of traditions from back home is fascinating to the boys! And there's a lot of winter holidays besides Christmas and Las Posadas, I mean Hanukkah is big and Yule is reemerging as people learn more about where traditions from Christmas comes from.

If you're like me and have a religious aspect to your winter holidays, I think they're curious about it and asking all sorts of questions! If you had the more traditional American Christmas, then they're super curious about the whole Santa deal! Like, they thought you said your world didn't have magic, so what's with this magically man in a red suit and white beard?

(Also, I don't know what advent calendars are, they have candy I'm guessing? If it's a calendar, then I'm safe to assume it's like a count-down to Christmas day?)

[sunarots]

BETTER THAN REVENGE! ━━━ tooru oikawa & rintarou suna

23. illicit affairs ♡

Oikawa stands with his arm around Emiko's neck, the few drinks of alcohol he's had numbing him from the disgust of seeing you up on the stage. He's glad you're almost done. Having to watch you and Rintarou sing about him not just on live television, but also live in front of him with his new girlfriend by his side... The words that come out your mouth aren't missed, though. And he knows exactly what you're trying to do.

You'll be flushed when you return.

No. He never slept with Emiko, it's all lies. He couldn't come home flushed if he wasn't having sex. Coming home flushed from-

Tell yourself you can always stop.

He did stop! He told you before anything happened. He let you out of the relationship before he ended up making everything even worse. You're destroying his image, there's no way you think you can get away with this. No, not when she's still holding one of his hands. Her side is still pressed against him. She won't know. Ever. These lyrics are taken from back in high school when he...

It's born from just one single glance.

You're trying to warn Emiko. Tell her the truth. Ruin him. You can't let him have happiness with her? You can't let him find peace? So vengeful. Bitter. Evil-

They show their truth on single time. But they lie, and they lie, and they lie.

He never lied. You never asked. How can someone lie to another person about something when he wasn't asked about it. He simply...hid it from you. That's different! Completely different. You can't lie if they don't suspect anything. And you were completely oblivious both times he cheated! No, not both times. Just one time. One. He didn't cheat this time around like he did in high school. And you can't bring that up anymore! Time has passed! You're holding things against him from years ago. He has changed! He has!

Look at this idiotic fool that you made me.

Oikawa slumps. Has he changed? Did he really cheat on you? Make a fool out of you? Maybe Mattsun and Makki were right... He wasn't very considerate, was he? He'd begged you for forgiveness more times than he can count on one hand. And every time you forgave him. You believed him. Thought he could change. He never did. Maybe he couldn't. Is he destined to be like this forever? Never able to hold a healthy relationship? Always destroy every ounce of happiness he'll ever receive?

And you know damn well-

Oikawa Tooru will never know happiness like he could have with you.

-For you I would ruin myself, A million little times.

Emiko's hand vanished from its place in his hold. She steps away from him, eyes not on the band performing, hands not applauding like the rest. No, Emiko places them on her hips, tilts her head back and blinks the tears back into her eyes. She stands taller, peers down her nose at Oikawa.

"When did you break up with y/n?"

Oh. So she was paying attention. She's smart. Really smart.

Oikawa flicks his eyes up to you on the stage. You're on Rintarou's lap, looking into his eyes. Atsumu's knelt on the stage with his guitar still hung around his neck. He reaches for a cup being offered to him, laughing at something being said to him.

Emiko's fingers snap in front of his face, bringing him back to reality. People look at them. You look at them. "I said when did you break up with y/n?"

His lips part, tears coming to his eyes. He tries to stammer out a response.

For Emiko, that's enough. She raises a hand, strikes him across the face. She jabs a finger into his chest, starts spewing curses of his name.

You and Rin stare from the stage, your forehead rest against his. You cross one leg over the other, Rin’s hand going from between your waist and your thigh. Lightly caresses the skirt you wear. He holds his drumsticks in his free hand, taps the base lightly and repeatedly against his knee. A small force tugs against the corners of his lips despite so desperate to stay cool and collected.

He observes the party-goers, their horrified stares at the scene unfolded before them, the way they try to keep their conversations yet no one able to focus on anything but them. Takahashi, for once, doesn't try to step in. He goes from looking at Atsumu, to looking at Emiko, opening and closing his mouth. He stammers something out, Atsumu rising to his feet.

He takes a final look at the couple(?), leans in and says something to you and Rin. You uncross your legs, whisper something to the boys by you. Something flashes in Rin's eyes as he ushers you off his knee, gently smacks your ass with the drumsticks before spinning them around in his fingers. He waits for you to fix the guitar around your neck, Atsumu to get in position. With as much force as he can muster, Rin slams the stick against a cymbal.

Everything stops, and all eyes fall back on the band. They forget about Oikawa standing with Emiko. His hand placed on her shoulder, fingers lightly holding to the front in a desperate measure to get more time before

You.

Standing there, one hand holding the guitar and the other grasping the microphone stand. Smiling, apologising. The DJ isn't here yet, so we'll play a song? Fill some fucking time? Another chance to break him. Drag him down to the ground. No, lower. Every level below until he falls through the core, and out the other side. And all you do is laugh and apologise and play another stupid song of yours. All you do is play fucking songs. Who are these even for?

Oh. The stream of their performance. Had it ended? What could they hear? Did they hear? They would have seen you. Your pride, your smugness. Your- God, what is with you? Isn't this enough? Will you be happy with yourself after? God, they're lucky if he doesn't-

What? What could he do? You guys weren't doing anything illegal. Defamation? But it's true. You're not lying. None of it has been made up. Harassment? Perhaps. More reasonable, surely. Right?

Emiko's shoulder rips from his hold as you come to the end of that stupid song. She wipes at her face and struts over to you at the stage. Yes. Tell you to stop. Leave them alone. She believes him!

But if she really believed him, why would she collapse in on herself after whispering something in your ear? Why would she lean in for...a hug.

No, Oikawa Tooru's time may be up.

masterlist. previous | next

summary. as a world-famous singer, everyone knows everything about all of your relationships. namely, your renowned on-again/off-again relationship with one tooru oikawa. it’s hard not to when every song you write is about him. but no one truly knows all of the gory details of all your dirty breakups, except from the two of you. and after announcing in a drunken red-carpet interview that you never want to see his face again, everyone starts desperately searching for the truth behind your twisted relationship. and just when you think you can escape these rumours, in comes a job opportunity your band can’t turn down.

taglist (open!). @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @iaminyourfloors @rrosiitas @v3nusplanetofluv @draculauracullen @lollbecca @honeytwo @wakashudou @tojirin @makki0s @alexithemiyatic @aboutkiyoomi @hermaeusmorax @theepitomeofswag @qyoongi @esunarint @frootloopscos @kimigiri09 @sweetlyvibe @hhoneyhan @jlly1 @nizaii @mdmraz @gigiiiiislife @jpegarchives

[covenha]

Synopsis: Seonghwa watches Hongjoong crash and burn and decides to revisit a good ole tactic to help his buddy out. This is a two-part spin off of the simp!verse. Pairings: nerd!hongjoong x fem!reader; guest appearances from Soobin and Yeonjun from TXT Genre: crack, my piss attempt at humor, hongjoong my poor guy is such a simp god bless his heart Warnings: swear words, witchcraft technically WC: 2.4k (I got carried away, oops) a/n: This monster of a chapter was birthed by my sleep-deprive brain from travelling for the holidays. I'm glad I put it out before christmas though because I wanna write something christmas themed before christmas day. This fic is purely fiction and does not portray what the characters are like irl. Feedbacks, reblogs, and comments are also deeply appreciated and highly encouraged! and as always please enjoy :)) Read part 1 here ; Read simp!hwa here

Seonghwa didn’t like getting involved in other people’s lives (he’s lying to himself, really. The aries in him loves making people his puppets). But seeing his best friend and dorm mate, Hongjoong, pouting on his bed whining about his sim’s wife not reciprocating his feelings, he just knew he had to intervene. If he hears Backburner by Niki playing one more time on Hongjoong’s speaker, he’s going to go clinically insane himself. 

“Okay, Hongjoong you gotta stop this! C’mon get up!” Hongjoong is currently face down on his mattress, mumbling along to the song for the nth time this week. 

The Goo Goo Dolls are dead to me the way you should be too

“Joong, I swear-”

But you bring them up along with how much I fucking miss you!

Hongjoong continues to mumble along the words to the song, almost like he’s drunk. And after this, Seonghwa swears he needs a drink too.

“Look, maybe you’re a bit of a fixer upper. I was too! But now look at me, I’m in a loving relationship and I couldn’t be happier.” he still doesn’t seem convinced at whatever peptalk Seonghwa is trying to feed him. But he does stop his singing so it’s a win in Seonghwa’s eyes. 

“I’m gonna let you in on a little trade secret of mine. As much as I look like the total rizzler that I am. I didn’t exactly get the girl on my looks and charm alone.” Hongjoong furrows his brows at this. Ignoring the fact that his friend just used the word “rizzler” unironically, he was desperate at this point. 

“An Etsy witch?!” he looks at Seonghwa, unimpressed at the boba-eyed boy. 

“Look, you just gotta trust me on this one okay?” Hongjoong sighs, I mean he was desperate. His conjured up future of you with his poodle and 2 goldfish was hanging in the balance right now. So he decided to humor Seonghwa. 

“We just gotta use a little bit of manifestation. Alexa play Take a Chance with Me by Niki!” 

With a newfound determination in his step, Hongjoong walks to class that day with one goal in his head. He had to figure out what your name was. 

“I have to find out her name?” Hongjoong furrows his eyebrows at the instructions. 

“Well, yeah. Seulgi needs to know her name for the ritual to be done correctly.” He replies in a matter-of-fact kind of tone. 

“Why can’t I just use that pink stone thingy you used?” 

“Because she has to wear it for 3 days. And, no offense, but I doubt that she would accept anything from you, Romeo.” Seonghwa pats him on the back. “But this will work, trust!” 

“You better be right, Hwa.” 

When he walks into the amphitheater, you are sitting in your usual spot typing away at something on your laptop. You were wearing a green beanie this time, seeing as the weather was getting colder. Hongjoong couldn’t help but swoon a little on the inside at you. You looked like a cute brussel sprout and he just wanted to bite you (but of course in a loving and sweet kind of way.) 

“Hi!” Hongjoong starts. “We talked for a little bit last week… I don’t know if you remember.” He shyly smiles at you. 

Oh, you remembered. He was the same guy who just randomly shouted at you before the class started. He was cute, you’ll admit that. He had a sort of nerdy vibe to him that you usually found cute in a guy. If only it weren’t for the piss poor first impression he pulled. You notice he still had that jittery look in his eyes, the same one he had last week. You didn’t like where this was going. 

“Oh, I remember.” You give him a tight smile. 

“Oh!” he manages to blurt out, albeit very loudly. This startles you and makes you jump a little in your seat. And this also causes a ruckus in the amphitheater causing eyes to look at the interaction between the both of you again. Great, you think. So much for keeping a low profile. 

“My name is Kim Hongjoong. Can I ask you what your name is?” He looks down at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. He really was cute, you think. But you hated all the eyes on you. You wanted this to end as quickly as possible and return to your peace and quiet. But you also didn’t want to embarrass this guy in front of the whole class. So, you do the next best thing. 

“My name is Wendy Lu.” You give him a fake name. 

I mean, what he won’t know won’t kill him right? You get him off your back. He gets to search up some finance major that frequents the cafe that you work at. And in your defense, she was totally cute! She also had a caffeine addiction but you digress. 

“Nice to meet you, Wendy!” Hongjoong rushes off to find his seat at the back of the room with a beaming smile on his face. This Etsy witch Seulgi sure did have her work cut out for her. But I mean, if she could get Seonghwa a girlfriend, she could totally get me one, right? 

“So, her name is Wendy Lu. I came up to her this morning and asked for her name, and she totally smiled at me! I got this one in the bag.” Hongjoong is beaming with glee at Seonghwa. 

They’re walking down a part of town that is a bit of a ways away from their usual path to their dorm but they had to make a detour to go to Seulgi’s physical store to get some supplies. She wrote down some instructions for Hongjoong to follow in his ritual for love spell casting and then they were off on their merry way back to their dorms. Unfortunately, Seonghwa had a 10-page essay he had due that very night to which he was very sorely behind on. 

“Can we go grab some coffee first? Either I’m going to finish this essay or it will finish me.” Seonghwa sighs, a stressed look on his face as he turns to the closest cafe that was on their route. 

That’s when they are greeted with you manning the cash register of the cafe. There’s a line at the cash register because this is usually when the cafe is at its busiest and you don’t even notice them coming in. Hongjoong is trying to contain himself and keep his chill. But he can’t help it if you look so effortlessly beautiful with your hair tied up and in your cute barista apron. The man is basically shooting heart eyes your way but you’re too busy taking orders. 

“My usual, please. To go.” Wendy Lu tries to give you the best smile she can, but it just ends up looking like a twitch on her face. Midterms must be coming up, you concluded. Sucks to be a finance major. One iced americano with 4 espresso shots, coming right up. You finish ringing in her order and give the ticket away for your co-worker to start on her drink. 

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” You bring your head up from the cash register and feel a dread settle into your stomach. It was the guy from earlier. Hongjoong, if you recall correctly. 

“I’ll have a Vanilla latte, and a pistachio bagel please.” Seonghwa replies. 

“Oh, and uhm. I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato with a tuna melt.” Hongjoong adds. 

“Will you have this for dine-in or take-out?” 

“We’ll have it for take-out, please.” 

And as you finish ringing up their orders, you forget one crucial detail that just managed to slip your mind. Wendy Lu. 

“Iced americano for Wendy Lu!” your co-worker, Soobin, shouts. 

Both boys look at you with confused eyes as Wendy Lu grabs her drink from Soobin and rushes off. You try to ignore the tension in the room but Hongjoong blurts out, “I thought you were Wendy Lu?” 

“Well, Wendy is a pretty common name.” You just nervously giggle off and hope he doesn’t press further. 

“Hey, Y/n. Yeonjun needs help rolling out the croissant dough in the kitchen.” Soobin interrupts the awkward conversation. “I’ll finish that up for you, go help him.” 

“Right.” You give them one last glance before walking over to the kitchen. 

And we are back to square one with Hongjoong. Well, not necessarily square one, more like square one and a half. Seonghwa likes to look on the brighter side of things. 

“Hey, at least you know her name! And besides, this ritual thing will still work, so what if she gave you a fake name at first.” Seonghwa tries to console his distraught dorm mate. 

“When you become best man at my wedding, can you leave this part out of your speech please?” Hongjoong just lies on the floor and pouts at him. 

“Oh, the part where you crashed and burned the first time you met your future wife? Sure.” Seonghwa deadpans at his friend. 

“Now, just do the ritual, my guy. I have an essay to write and you have a girl to wife up.” Seonghwa motions for him to get up. 

“Fine.” Hongjoong gets up and goes to get his supplies for the ritual but notices that the instructions for the ritual are gone. He furrows his eyebrows and digs through his things trying to find them but they don’t seem to be anywhere. He asks Seonghwa if he’s seen them anywhere but he claims to not even have held the paper. This confirms a theory he’s had in his head that sends a storm of unease to his stomach. 

He remembers putting his stuff out while waiting for his tuna melt to be heated up. The last time he remembers seeing that pink sheet of paper was at the cafe table. He had to go back to that cafe. He checks the time and it’s around the time that it closes, if he remembers correctly from the door. If he rushes now, he could get to the cafe right before it closes. 

So he rushes out the door yelling out that he was going to the cafe, leaving a very confused Seonghwa to attempt to finish his essay. 

Hongjoong arrives at the cafe on a mission to find that pink-ruled piece of paper that holds the key to his happiness. The cafe is deserted at this point, the door sign says “closed” but he can still see you and your two other co-workers cleaning up the establishment. He gulps.

Here goes nothing. 

He knocks on the door to the shop and points to the locked door. 

You and Soobin shoot each other a look and Soobin walks up to the door.

“So that was lover boy, I assume?” Soobin glances down at you as you wipe down the counters behind the cash register.

“Oh scarf guy?” Yeonjun pipes up. 

“Yeah. Kim Hongjoong.” You tell them. “Guy seems sweet and all but he brings so much attention during class. Made me want to disappear into my seat.” 

“Well, seems like lover boy’s got it bad. He was going to cast a spell on you.” Soobin says trying to imitate a dracula accent. 

“What? No way.” Yeonjun dismisses him. 

“Look. He left it at the table they were at. Even went to that trinket shop down at the corner next to the deli. Poor guy was going to get Wendy Lu to fall head over heels in love with him.” He waves a pink piece of paper around. 

You grab it and look at what’s written down and stare in utter disbelief. Was he really willing to go this far? 

“Man’s a simp if I’ve ever seen one.” Soobin concludes. 

“He just doesn’t know when to give up. I mean, you were pretty straightforward the first time around. Take the L, my guy.” Yeonjun shakes his head. 

“Hmmm, well I thought it was a bit harsh. But he is persistent. I'll give him that.” Soobin shrugs. 

“Ugh, I was too harsh, wasn’t I?” You ask, to no one in particular. But you didn’t mean to be harsh. Being the center of attention was never your favorite thing and it brought out a side of you that had no filter. 

“Are you forgetting the fact that he hired an Etsy witch to make him fall in love with you?” Yeonjun reminds you. 

“Well, I don’t really believe in that kind of stuff. Pink rocks and weird drawings? Be fucking for real.” 

And as luck would have it, a knock on the door stops your discourse. It was Hongjoong. You and Soobin share a look and he goes to tell him that the place is closed but then you stop him. 

“Wait, Soob. I need to talk to him.” You stop Soobin as he reaches for the door knob. 

Hongjoong panics when you see him walk over to the door knob. Oh God, she knows. She’s gonna think I’m some creep! I mean, on paper it does seem creepy that some guy who she’s talked to like thrice has some instructions from some dodgy Etsy witch on how to make her fall in love with him but he swears he means no harm. 

You go over to open the door. 

“Hey, Hongjoong.” You start. You wipe your sweaty hands off using your apron. Confrontation was never your best feat, but it seems like the universe had different plans for the both of you that evening. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for being kinda harsh to you the first time we talked. You seem like a sweet guy, but you kinda put me on the spot and I was pretty uncomfortable back then….” You explain yourself. 

“O-oh! Well, I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I never meant to do that I swear! I just, you’re…. Pretty.” He shyly smiles at you. 

This is the first time you are actually able to take a good look at him and you start to notice little details you never did. The slope of his nose, the glasses that frame his face, the dimples that decorate his cheeks, and the one finger he has painted with nail polish. He was kinda cute, you concluded. And as he calls you pretty, you can’t help the heat that rises up your cheeks at his confession. 

“Well, if you wanna, we could do it the old fashioned way. You know, the one where there’s no Etsy witch involved.” You shoot a small smile his way when he starts floundering and trying to come up with a way to explain himself. 

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Hongjoong walks back to the dorm with a dumb smile on his face. Seonghwa was so totally gonna be his best-man at his wedding. 

[ughgoaway]

Maybe something festive for the neighbours? Girly gets home from work Xmas party and can hear matty playing guitar and she's all ready to knock and complain about the noise until she realises he's singing Lonely This Christmas and gets all in her feels

anon this is so devastating but also SUCH A GOOD IDEA. kissing you on the head rn.

you're stumbling in slightly tipsy from work drinks. The gallery was very generous with the champagne budget this year, and you can tell from the slight stumble in your walk and your heels in your hands.

you're standing at your door fumbling with your keys when you hear the strumming coming from Matty's apartment. And to be quite honest, you have 0 energy for it. it's past 1am and all you want to do is make instant ramen and pass out in bed.

(more below the cut as usual)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

so you open your door a crack, unceremoniously throwing your heels inside and turning around ready to give matty a piece of your mind. your fist is lifted ready to knock, but its only then your brain starts to realise what song he's singing along to.

"And the only things I see are emptiness and loneliness, and an unlit Christmas tree" he sings to himself, and whilst his playing annoys you, you can't deny he's fucking talented. strumming along mindlessly, playing it note perfect with his melancholy singing tying it all together.

you freeze for a few seconds, listening intently before you come up with something. you move away from his door and sneak back into your place, scrawl a note on a scrap piece of paper, and grab something from your kitchen counter before sliding back out. you place it delicately in front of his door and have flashbacks to your childhood when you knock and run, quickly but quietly shutting your door before he can get to his.

matty huffs when he hears the knock, assuming its the grouchy old man on the other side of him coming to complain again. but he can't bring himself to care even if it is. he couldn't get back to Manchester this Christmas because of a massive storm, and the boys all had the forethought to leave earlier, so were already home. leaving him in london completely alone until at least new years, and he was feeling appropriately depressed about it.

he opens his door slowly, but blinks a few times when he's met with no-one on the other side. he's about to close the door and chalk it up to his wine drunk imagination when he looks down, and there on his doormat was a small red tin decorated with Christmas trees.

he curiously picks it up and brings it in, sitting on his sofa as he opens it. he peels the lid off and is immediately met with a scrap of paper on top, he picks up the note gently, whispering to himself as he reads it out.

"Matty,

you're not totally alone this Christmas, text me (xxxxxxxxxxx) if you need somewhere to celebrate. I can't promise it won't be a little hostile, but it'll be warm, good food at least.

y/n"

he smiles and places the note on his coffee table before looking properly in the tin. perfectly decorated sugar cookies sit in a pile, shaped like candy canes and wreaths with royal icing covering them.

he doesn't end up texting you, managing to find a last-minute train that was somehow running and spends Christmas in his mums house as he always had before. but the tin pops up back at your door before he goes, filled with flowers and a note simply saying "thank you x"

[ceo-of-sloppy-women]

No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her

chapter 5

Chapter 6

There are tables everywhere – not that it surprises you, this is a bar, after all. But they look new, untouched by the apocalypse. Someone built these recently. They’re quality, too, at least from the brief glance you manage at them. You wonder if the artisan is still around (and if they could make Sevika a dining table). Sitting amongst the tables, at the far end of the room, is a large and spacious bar with several stools in front of it. The place looks relatively deserted, apart from the blue-haired woman with her head thrown back in cackling laughter at a joke apparently cracked by the white-haired man next to her. Judging by the look on his face, the joke was far funnier than he intended it to be (if it was a joke at all). You know these two: Jinx and Ekko – they had been part of Sevika’s group on the way back. You’re about to open your mouth and call out to them when the door slams shut behind you. Jinx spins around instantly, grinning when she realizes it’s you.

“There she is, the lady of the hour!” Jinx cheers, rushing up to you and peeking her head out from behind the books. “How’s Sevika, did she –“ she switches to the other side, miming the glugging of a bottle – “Or, did big’an’scary keep her act together for the pretty lady?”

“Let me take those,” Vander says, picking up the stack from your arms with ease. You hadn’t even seen him polishing tables to your right.

“Sevika was… nice. We had a little mead, talked about some things, and I finally had a proper shower since this whole shit show started,” you inform Jinx, who giggles in delight.

“Did she mention her bees? Did she?!” Jinx has a manic smile on her face, clapping her hands when you nod. “Wonderful! You know, she and Grayson worked on their hives for ages. Had to get them just right – Sevika kept complaining the bees didn’t like them, so they weren’t producing as much honey. Turns out, she was kind of right – I mean they do produce more honey nowadays, so she’s gotta have been right.”

“Who’s Grayson?” you ask, following Jinx as she weaves through tables back to the bar.

Jinx spins on her heel and gapes at you for a moment: “Grayson! You know – organizer of patrols and all things safety. Spends her time making chairs, tables, fences and anything else wooden that needs doing. She helped us raise the barn! Any of this ringing a bell? Anything??”

“It’s all new to me. Sevika didn’t really mention much about how things function around here, or specifics about the bees. She did promise to show me them later.”

Jinx snorts a little. “Didn’t do much talking with broodin’ and beautiful, eh? Got too distracted by –“ she puts her fingers together, miming scissoring. You flush bright red.

“JINX! Stop distracting our new friend. She has enough on her plate, and you have a job to do today!” Silco calls from the landing of the staircase, hands on his hips.

“Sorry,” Jinx sing songs, downing her drink from the bar in one gulp. “We’ll go, we’ll go. Ekko’s got a new house for me to blow up anyway!”

You grab her arm as she’s passing by you: “We didn’t. Sevika and I are just… friends.”

“Whatever you say, toots! You can’t fool me, though – she doesn’t let just anyone stay with her. Or bring her to heel like that,” Jinx giggles, shrugging off your hand easily. She throws her arm over Ekko and grins at him: “Now, what do you say? Wanna to see how much I can explode today?”

Ekko rolls his eyes with a playful smile, allowing her to lead him out the door: “You know that’s not what we’re doing.”

“Can’t a lady have a little fun?” Jinx whines as Ekko pushes the door open and leaves you standing in the bar.

“Come on, Silco’s going to get his panties in a knot if we make him wait any longer,” Vander jokes next to you, nudging you with his elbow.

“I can take some books if you want, I know it’s a lot to carry,” you offer, following after him toward the second floor of the bar.

“I’ve got it,” he simply says, leading you upstairs.

Silco has already left the landing. You find him in his office, sitting behind a large desk in a refurbished chair with a back far too high to be anything less than extravagant. Dirty, stained windows sit behind him, giving just the barest glimpse out into the streets. Vander sets the books down on the coffee table, and Silco huffs, getting up and walking around his desk to take a seat on one of the couches instead. You sit on the couch opposite to the two of them, picking up your book off the top of the pile and placing it carefully on the coffee table. The table looks to be new – a lot of the furniture in the room does, especially the bookshelves lining the walls.

“Is this Grayson’s work as well?” you ask, breaking the silence as Silco lights a cigar.

“Yes, she was a former enforcer in Piltover – used to be stationed in the neighbourhood of our original bar. It wasn’t the safest area, so she was constantly in and out of our doors, usually helping people who needed a place to sleep at night or a hot meal. We took a lot of them in. She’d bring them, stay for a drink, get to know who she was helping. When the world went to shit, she was working – helped us get out of the city with as many people as we could manage… then she helped us go back in for those we left behind,” Vander explains, a sad smile creeping across his face at the memories.

“She sounds lovely,” you say softly. Enforcers aren’t always known for being nice, especially not where you’re from.

“Oh, don’t let him paint her with rose-coloured glasses,” Silco scoffs, smoke drifting away from his lips. “She was still an enforcer. We saw her shoot an unfair amount of people, raid buildings, enable other officers – all the same shit pigs get up to. She was corrupt through and through.”

“She’s different now, though. I think the apocalypse humanized her, made her care for people – or see we’re all really equal. Not just those who can take people in and those who need to be taken in,” Vander cuts in, trying to pad out Silco’s cynicism.

Silco shrugs a little, blowing out smoke: “Apocalypse did that to all of us. Some more so than others. Now we’ve got a former enforcer making us furniture and organizing patrol routes. But that’s not what we’re here to talk about.”

“Right, sorry, just wanted to get a better grip on… everything. Zaun is a little daunting – I haven’t been around people in a long time, and to suddenly be around so many makes me uncomfortable. I mean, you guys are the first settlement that didn’t turn me away at the door – not that I tried to join many, people just like to flat-out tell you the moment you walk into the trading post where you stand and where you don’t,” you confess, ducking your head a little as you flip the pages to the table of contents.

“We will happily answer any questions for you after we finish this meeting. Or, you can ask Sevika, I’m sure she’d be happy to fill you in,” Vander offers, staring down at the upside-down table of contents. “Now, Jinx mentioned something about a windmill?”

“Oh! Right, yes – I’ve got all sorts of stuff in here, windmill included. There’s also generators, musical instruments, and penicillin. You name it, I might have it.”

“It certainly seems so,” Silco mumbles, squinting at the book as he leans closer to read it. “Let’s start with a windmill – we only have so much flour, and what we have made by ourselves has been…”

“Gritty. The bread has been foul,” Vander shudders a little, pulling a face.

“Yeah, I get that. I would probably kill for a proper loaf of bread at this point,” you agree, flipping to the windmill page.

“I’d like to copy down the medical section for our doctor, though. Singed would be quite appreciative. While he is adept, he is not trained for the apocalypse. Many of his methods have been… touch and go.”

“I can understand that; I wasn’t trained for an apocalypse either. Hell, I have a philosophy degree! The most I was trained for was an archival position before the world went to shit – which is not exactly helpful during an apocalypse. I just kind of survived on my wits, and the random courses I took during university,” you chuckle, drumming your fingers on the book pages.

“We weren’t prepared for it either. No one was,” Vander says, scratching his chin. “Let’s copy down these instructions so we can give them to the construction team. Then, we’ll need to plan out an area for our new windmill!”

“While we’re copying down instructions, perhaps it would be wise to pick out several new projects?” Silco suggests, flipping back to the table of contents.

“Sounds good to me, as long as you have the paper for it,” you agree, flipping to the generator. “How about this?”

“We have been running out of gasoline,” Vander comments, staring over Silco’s shoulder.

“And there is a nearby river that the hydroelectric power plant runs off already,” Silco hums in agreement, nodding his head. “We can probably establish a few generators in the stronger run-off streams.”

The rest of the day is filled with the three of you pouring over the book, writing down instructions for new projects that can be worked on simultaneously. In the end, they wind up with instructions for various quality-of-life improvements that could aid the entire settlement. By the end, your hand is aching from transposing every little detail, cramping up around your pen in protest. Thankfully, Silco and Vander seem impressed, offering you a glass of brandy to celebrate the success of the meeting.

You’re about to put the book away when Vander squints at one of the subsections. With a thoughtful look on his face, he flips to it, nodding along as he reads. You glance over at the page he’s reading: a printing press. It would be helpful for the settlement, especially to educate the general public and any passing traders. Books were incredibly hard to come by these days. Silco seems to pay Vander little mind until he shoots up with a grin.

“We need this too!” he announces proudly as if he’s struck gold.

“Oh?” Silco leans over to read the page. “Ah, a printing press. You’re quite right, honey –“ he kisses Vander on the cheek – “But who could we get to even run such a thing? Everyone already has their jobs. I doubt anyone would take this on.”

“I could do it,” you offer before you can help yourself. You know he’s just trying to coax you into volunteering, but running a printing press sounded fun!

“You would?” Silco cocks an eyebrow and takes a slow sip of his brandy, as if assessing you. You sit up a bit straighter. “Well Vander, I think we have found our Archivist. That is if you’re really up for the challenge. You will need to make a lot of books, everything from cookbooks to survival skills to novels. And, you will need to make your own paper – I’m sure you’re aware that paper is quite a rare commodity nowadays. Are you sure you can handle that?”

“I can! I promise!” You’re giddy with anticipation, grinning ear from ear as Vander nudges the book toward you.

“Well, write it down. Then you can take it to Grayson and ask her to build it for you. Don’t worry, we’ll pay for it – you can pay us back later once you’ve sold your first few books.”

“Really? You mean it?” you clutch your pen, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Of course, although this will mean you will have to put up with Sevika for longer than expected. Your printing office will take priority over a house,” Silco states, swirling his brandy contemplatively.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I don’t mind. Sevika is… kinda nice. Last night was the safest I have felt in a long time,” you confess, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly.

Silco arches an eyebrow at you, burying a sly grin in the rim of his glass.

“I’m sure she’ll have no complaints either. You’re the first person she’s willingly let into her house,” Vander comments, leaning back on the couch.

“I thought Jinx stayed with her a few times?”

“Oh, she did, but that was never willingly on Sevika’s part,” Vander chuckles, shaking his head. “Jinx does what she wants; no one can stop her. Unfortunately for Sevika, Jinx has grown quite attached to her.”

“Unfortunately? Jinx doesn’t seem so bad that it would be unfortunate,” you press, taking a sip of your drink.

“Ah, so you don’t know about –“ Vander starts to say.

“You should get copying – daylight’s burning, and Grayson likes to close up shop early,” Silco interjects, eliminating the conversation as he presses Vander’s glass into the other man’s hands.   

You want to ask – to press Vander further on the information, but the tight-lipped, awkward look he now sports deters you. Whatever he was about to say is probably best to hear from Sevika herself. From what you’ve seen, Sevika had never been outwardly uncomfortable with Jinx, nor had she spoken ill of her. Not that she’s outwardly friendly with her, either. Yet, Jinx’s comment about Sevika’s arm rings in your ears: “Clean off.” You’d seen Sevika’s arm; it hadn’t looked blown off… it looked cut.

What weren’t they telling you? And why was it so important everyone dodged the topic as if it would burn them?

You copy the instructions for the printing press quickly; there are some supplies you’re not sure that the settlement has. Someone’s going to have to make a supply run at some point. Perhaps you can convince them to take you along, that way, you can grab exactly what you need. Maybe even some old books you can reprint – novels that people could enjoy. Maybe there are even some authors in the settlement willing to publish their work…

“Finished,” you state, closing the book.

“Excellent. Vander will escort you to Grayson, since you don’t know your way around yet. This will most likely take some time to assemble. In the meantime, you will be assigned various tasks around the settlement – everyone carries their own weight. I hear from Vander you held your own against infected?”

“More or less. Sevika saved me from a horde of them in a supermarket, but I can take one or two on my own without much struggle.”

Silco nods his head and finishes his drink: “For now, then, stick with Sevika. She’s been in need of a patrol partner for quite some time – her last one met an unfortunate demise to a belcher. I hope that’s not too much to ask?”

You grimace. Belchers are a fourth-stage infected: eventually, your insides rot away and turn to sludge, which is expelled from your body in a disgusting substance. Make the mistake of swallowing any (or getting it on an open wound), and you’ll find yourself infected as assuredly as a bite. Unfortunately, given the acidic nature of the belcher’s “contents,” it burns away at the body as well, making the infection process painful and grotesque. On the plus side, infected Belcher victims are often easier to kill due to their weakened state.

“I’m happy to tag along with her.”

“Perfect. Well then, get going, daylight is waning,” Silco announces, standing from his seat and ushering you up as well.

“Right, of course – thank you. For all of this. This is a wonderful opportunity, and I won’t let you down; I promise!”

Vander chuckles and ruffles your hair: “Relax, we’re not going to throw you out on your ass. Sevika would have a fit – and even if she wouldn’t, you’re one of us now. Get used to it.”

“Thank you,” you mumble again, ducking your head with a shy smile.

“Of course, we protect our own. Leave your book here, though. We aren’t taking it, but it will be safer in the Last Drop than stashed in Sevika’s home. If anyone comes looking for it, at least it won’t put the two of you at risk. Though the journals…” Silco trails off, eyeing the stack of journals.

“They’re for Singed! You mentioned how he enjoyed the spare notes I had – well these ones are copies of my observations on the infected. I tried to record them in case… actually, I’m not quite sure I have an exact reason. It just felt wrong not to record any information I could about them, in case someone was developing a cure.”

“Well, you’re in luck! Singed is working on a cure, and he will find these incredibly helpful. He was a scientist before everything went down the drain,” Silco informs you, picking up the first one and flipping through it. “Pictures too… good.”

“I’m glad I can help – hopefully, there’s something in there that can help with a cure. It… kinda feels weird to know someone so close by is working on a cure. Let alone that my journals could even possibly be helpful. A cure always felt like a fever dream…”

“With any luck, that dream will become reality soon enough,” Silco says, shutting the book. “Now, you should hurry over to Grayson’s. I’ve got work to do now – this settlement doesn’t organize itself.”

“Of course, thank you for this, again. It’s really something special. Good luck with your work, and thank you for the printing press. I’m saying thank you too many times! Okay, uh, yeah, I’m going to go before I say it again,” you chuckle nervously and head for the door, printing press instructions clutched in your hand.

“Take care!” Silco calls after you as he takes a seat at his desk.

Vander follows you out of the office and into the street. The bar is full of patrons now, bustling with life and laughter. You stick close to Vander, all but taking his hand in the vain effort to keep yourself calm. Adjusting to the influx of people seems to be a far more daunting task than you had initially hoped. Thankfully, Vander makes polite conversation about your life before the apocalypse as he leads you to Grayson’s, distracting you from the chaos. It helps you adjust to the expanding crowd – while the day has gone on, the breakfast rush has turned into the afternoon rush as people bustle from one building to the next. There’s even a diner a little way down the street opening its doors for customers, and a few food stands that overwhelm your senses with smells you haven’t even dared dream of for years. Your mouth waters a little, but you keep it to yourself, not wanting to put Vander out because you definitely don’t have any money on you. Instead, you follow him a few buildings down to a small storefront. The windows have been scrubbed free of dirt, with a freshly painted sign adorning them: Grayson’s Handcrafted Furniture.

Vander holds the door open for you, a tiny bell ringing. You step inside, ducking under his arm, and take in the storefront. The room is full of tables, chairs, shelves, dressers, cabinets – anything that could possibly be made out of wood is laid out on the shop floor. In the back, an older woman with a strong jaw, sharp cheekbones and a quirked eyebrow observes the two of you curiously. You swallow thickly – she’s undeniably beautiful, even as she fixes you with an almost scrutinizing gaze.

“Vander, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Grayson asks as Vander leads you over to the counter.

“This one here has a special commission to place. We need you to build a printing press for Zaun,” Vander informs her, patting your shoulder.

“A printing press? I wasn’t aware we had anyone who knew how to make those,” Grayson says, dragging her eyes up and down you in a slow, deliberate assessment. “Does this have something to do with the new woman I’ve been hearing about? The one that Sevika brought back with her, that is.”

“That would be me!” You speak up, informing her of your name.

“Ah, it’s nice to finally put a face to the rumours,” Grayson hums, holding you captive with stern yet delicate eye contact. “So… tell me about this printing press you need from me.”

“I have the instructions to build one here –“ you place them on the counter – “Silco and Vander mentioned you were the best furniture artisan in town. I was hoping to commission your services.”

Grayson hums, looking over the copied notes: “Always the flatterer, that one… This seems reasonable enough. I can have this done for you in a few weeks. Acquiring specific parts will be difficult, and there are some that I will need Jayce to make for me.”

“What kind of price am I looking at?” you ask as Vander leans against the counter, lighting a pipe.

“Considering this is for the benefit of the settlement…” Grayson holds her chin and stares at the page for a long moment, then back at you, making you squirm under her hard gaze before making a satisfied hum: “It’s free of charge.”

You gawk at her, unable to find the words. Sevika letting you stay at her place was one thing, but you could see the price tags on the pieces around you. They went for hefty sums – no doubt a commission would cost far more! Yet she’s willing to do this one for free?!

“Grayson, we can –“ Vander starts, whipping around in shock.

She holds up a hand and smiles: “I know you have the money, but it’s not necessary. I make enough from furniture that I can take on a few commissions for free. On one condition…”

“What is it?” you pipe up, snapping out of your speechless state.

“You print a few trashy romance novels. The world has finally slowed to a crawl to let me read more, and I find myself without anything to read,” Grayson sighs as if this is a deep, troubling concern of hers. She rubs the bridge of her nose before continuing: “They do not have to be very long or fancy, but I have a few that I can’t even open without the pages crumbling on me. If you promise to reprint them, I will consider this a fair trade.”

“I can absolutely do that,” you agree quickly, beaming at her. “I used to be an archivist; I know a thing or two about handling books delicately. Besides, there’s nothing better than a trashy romance novel once in a while.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Grayson says, picking up a stamp from the organizer next to her. She presses it against a blank portion of the paper, leaving behind a mark that reads ‘accepted.’ “Your printing press will be ready in a few weeks. Where should I send the notification of completion to?”

“Uh, Sevika’s residence. The printing shop is taking priority over finding me a house,” you answer, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing.

However, Grayson quirks an eyebrow up, regarding you more closely. She opens her mouth to speak when the door to the shop swings open and cuts her off. You turn around to see Sevika standing there, looking equal bits, annoyed and relieved. She sighs, placing her hand on her hip.

“There you are! Next time, leave a message at the bar before running off,” Sevika grumbles, not quite meeting your gaze. She shifts awkwardly, something clearly on the tip of her tongue she was refusing to speak.

“Sorry, I thought we’d be done before you and I could get back to the bar in time,” you admit, crossing the room to stand in front of her. “I didn’t mean to worry you… but I’m grateful that you did worry.”

“Yeah, yeah, suck up all you’d like. Still annoyed with you,” Sevika huffs, glaring down at you.

“Why don’t you two go get something to eat, I’ll finish up here?” Vander suggests from the counter, taking a puff of his pipe.

“We’re done here anyway – Vander and I just have a few things to discuss about other commissions,” Grayson adds, levelling her gaze to yours. “Feel free to say hello if you see me around Zaun, darling.”

“I – uh – will do – thank you for your generosity,” you squeak, blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Sevika growls, grabbing your arm and dragging you out the door. You allow yourself to be dragged out, waving at Vander and Grayson politely as you rush to keep up with Sevika’s hurried footfalls.

[puppyeared]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[bredforloyalty]

not wonderwall making me cry

[voltas-do-mar]

bring me home / bring me home thoughts of you will bring me home as the sun may rise with crashing tides oh, you will bring me home

oh, at home there's my darling [The name here is muffled. Two syllables.] and i miss him all day long he has strange style / but he makes me smile and for him i will stay strong

[coffee-and-geto]

“HOW CAN I LOVE WHEN I’M AFRAID TO FALL?”

“I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.”

pairing: CEO! satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: to your almost regret, your life as a single mother seems to be weighing more and more heavily on your worn-out shoulders. so what could be better than pretending to be the CEO’s girlfriend of the business you work for, knowing that his father is the general manager?

warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, her daughter is called hinata, fake dating/single mom tropes, angst, mother insecurities, fluff, reader’s ex is a jerk, unprotected sex, sex (p in v), overstimulation, pussy drunk (satoru), nipple play, fingering (f!receiving), oral (m), this fic is (really slightly) inspired from the french book ‘un printemps pour te succomber’ by morgane moncomble, including therefore small similar dialogues, (pls guys learn french only to read this masterpiece!!), fanart by @/ilameys on twt.

wc: 10,154

“Can I taste the frosting?”

Your lips curve into a smile. “Of course, angel.” You crouch down and hand the spatula coated in pastel pink frosting to your five-year-old daughter. Her little fist wraps around the handle, and joy spreads across her angelic face like rays of sunshine. “So? How is it?”

“It’s so good!” she exclaims, and you chuckle.

“I’m glad you like it.” You glance at the clock in your kitchen. “I’ll put the frosting in the fridge. While the cake bakes, go back to playing, and I’ll call you to help decorate the cake as soon as it’s ready, okay?”

Hinata nods, blowing you a kiss that you return after a moment of surprised hesitation, your lips forming an “O”. Amid delighted laughter, she skips away, and you turn back to face the bowl of cake batter.

Why does it have to be so hard?

Every birthday, you hold back tears because who said ‘single mom’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘baking your own birthday cake so your daughter can sing to you’? But what hurts more — this, or seeing your flesh and blood envy her female friends who have their dads in their arms and their mothers content with their families?

The silence of loneliness can sometimes be louder than company.

“Happy birthday! Happy birthday, mama!” your daughter sings, clapping her hands as you blow out your candles in the warm, yet dimly lit, living room. “Come on, come on! Let’s eat the cake!”

With a knife, you cut two slices, one for each of you, and it only takes a few more minutes for both your mouths to be covered in pink frosting, with laughter echoing in the room. The heartache, briefly chased away by the short-lived joy, returns later that night when your daughter snuggles up in your arms in your double bed, which seems to be missing something.

Fuck, being a single mom is tough, you think as you wipe away the tears flooding your cheeks with the back of your hand. No one to support you, all the responsibilities fall on your shoulders, and now doubts about your daughter start invading your mind: “What if she blames you later for not having a father?”, “What if she thinks you’re a bad mom?”, “Do her friends at school say anything about you being the only unmarried woman among all the parents in her class?”

These thoughts have never stopped, not even during your pregnancy, whether about the weight gained or lost, or the changes in your body. Are these regrets? But how could you regret bringing such an angel into the world? Maybe it’s more about the lousy partner who left you the second he found out you were pregnant.

Probably the second option.

°°°

“WHERE IS MY SON?!”

A male voice thunders across the entire floor of the company. You jump, turning to one of your colleagues over the small partition set up for employee privacy. “Who’s yelling like that?” you whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I heard it’s the new general manager…”

Your frown deepens. “Is that why they handed me the summary of our sales figures to drop off at the office upstairs?” To prove your point, you lift the massive stack of documents.

Your colleague presses his lips together, his eyes widening in a way that already gives you the answer. “Oh God, you’re the one in charge of that? Good luck. It’s to be delivered to the new director.”

A sigh escapes your lips.

For a start to the workweek, it seems you’re about to face the stormy mood of the new boss, who apparently brought his kid to the office. What a perfect beginning.

As usual, the upper floor is deserted, as it’s generally reserved for executives with direct ties to the company’s CEO. Few people take the elevator to reach the top floor of the skyscraper. Arriving in the lonely hallway, it should be a simple task to knock on the boss’s office door, drop off the elephant-weight stack of documents, and leave.

So why does the sound of running footsteps seem to be getting closer and closer behind you?

In a flash, a man dressed in a navy blue suit rushes past you, bumping your shoulder. He nearly topples the threatening stack of papers, but you manage, at the last second, to catch everything before you lose your balance. The young man opens the door to the women’s restroom, and before entering, he glances over his shoulder.

Never in your life have eyes made such an impression on you.

Two cerulean blue orbs lock onto yours with a mischievous aura. A smirk tugs at the corner of his thin, pink lips. From his pale skin to his albino hair, the man exudes charm and beauty from every pore. The sheer allure of his appearance leaves your brain too stunned to react, numbing it. How can someone be this handsome?

“SATORU!”

His serene and amused expression vanishes instantly, and you jump in response. Replaced by an exaggerated look of fear, he addresses you, “Cover for me. If he asks you, you never saw me!” And his tall, slender body disappears into the women’s restroom.

More footsteps echo down the hallway, this time from a second man, just as tall and physically similar to the young man you just encountered — though slightly older, with wrinkles lining his face and a mix of albino hair and silver from age. You have no time to react except to straighten up against the wall.

His blue eyes, more gray and stern, settle on you as he approaches. “Did you see a man? A tall idiot running around and flirting with any woman he sees,” he grumbles the last part, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the light carpet.

You shake your head robotically. “No… I—”

“Never mind,” he cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand — as if your answer is irrelevant and he’s heard it at least twenty times before. He sighs and scratches at the stubble on his chin. “Who are you, anyway?”

“An employee, sir.” You gesture to the stack of documents that’s beginning to make its weight known in your arms. “I was asked to drop this off in your office.” The tone of your voice almost pleads with him to let you in and relieve you of the annoying burden.

“The report? Ah yes, of course.” You sigh in relief as he unlocks the door with his keys. “I suppose you’re wondering who I am?”

“The new general manager, I guess?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. You drop the heavy stack onto the desk and exhale deeply. “We heard you on every floor.” You can’t help but chuckle at your own remark, offering the director an apologetic smile.

He rolls his eyes, but a light chuckle still rumbles in his chest. “You’re right. It’s because of my son.”

His son?

You repeat the word aloud, confused, and he clarifies. “My son is the new CEO of this company, and I almost regret my decision to give him that position.” He shakes his head, his gaze drifting toward the blue sky visible through the large window, then refocuses on you. “I apologize in advance. He’s going to be a real handful.”

“I understand. I think we’ll manage to put up with him,” you add with a smile.

In the end, this new boss doesn’t seem as strict as your colleagues have been saying, and his story about his son is more amusing than anything. You cough slightly into your elbow and clear your throat, murmuring an apology.

“Are you sick?” the director inquires.

“A little,” you admit reluctantly, feeling embarrassed as you adjust the mask on your face. “Sorry. I couldn’t stay home.”

“No problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “Well, I think I have some work to do. See you later, I suppose.”

You don’t hesitate to leave the boss’s office and quietly step into the women’s restroom. “Is… someone here?” you murmur in a hoarse voice.

The creaking of a door answers you, and the general manager’s son emerges from a stall, looking cautious. He looks like a little boy checking to see if his hiding spot in a game of hide-and-seek has been discovered, which makes you stifle a discreet giggle. He turns to you and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t hurt you, did I, sweetheart?”

The nickname catches you off guard, and warmth floods your face. “N-No, I’m fine. You’re the new CEO, right?”

“Satoru Gojo, at your service, pretty girl.” He winks, a reminder that he’s quite the flirt.

You introduce yourself in return, running out of things to say, your hands nervously clasped by your sides.

“Pretty name,” Satoru murmurs. He closes the stall door behind him and exhales, shaking his head. “Phew! That was a close one! Thanks again!” He strides toward the exit with one last charming smile in your direction, leaving the restroom and a lingering scent of cologne behind him.

°°°°

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“Damn it, you’re so annoying with this!”

“There’s no point in moving every few months, I’m going to find you.”

“For fuck’s sake, answer my messages! I told you I need you! I swear I’ll help you raise Hinata this time.”

“I made a mistake, so let me fix it by answering my fucking messages! I know you’re reading them!”

You swallow hard, your throat tight, and press the “block this contact” button on your phone. It’s the fourth time this month. He’s been harassing you with messages and finding a way to contact you no matter how many numbers he uses, even when you change yours. The same goes for your address, as apparently changing apartments is no longer enough to escape him.

You know he’s in debt — one of the many consequences of his excessive gambling, even when you were still in a relationship with him. Smoking, drinking, and of course, downing tobacco like it was water, only to charm you while hiding this lifestyle to get you into his bed, then fleeing the moment you were pregnant.

So now that he needs a woman and a child to escape his debts, he’s reaching out to you — the woman he abandoned after promising marriage (without a ring, of course), got pregnant, and deserted, only to come crawling back to you.

“Mama? You okay?”

Your daughter’s concerned little voice pulls you out of your daze. The cartoons playing on the TV haven’t had the desired effect — they’re not distracting her from the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you day by day. Maybe today, it’s showing enough for people to notice?

“I’m fine, angel,” you reassure her with a perfect smile — perfectly fake, because that’s something you’ve learned to anchor over time.

You pat the empty spot on the couch next to you, and she nestles under your arm. “If you say so…” Hina murmurs, clutching her worn-out bunny plush.

The state of the plush catches your attention, and a pang of guilt stabs at your heart. What kind of mother lets her daughter carry around a stuffed toy in such poor condition? Maybe you are a bad mother? Otherwise, why would Hina deserve such a pitiful situation? She deserves so much better than you…

“Little angel?” you murmur as she wraps her tiny arms around your waist and nuzzles into your belly. “Are you okay?”

“I love you.”

And the three little words sound… unreal.

Hot tears blur your vision, and it takes every bit of strength you have to whisper back, “I love you too, Hina.”

°°°°

3:00 PM.

In less than an hour, you’ll need to pick up Hinata from school.

Normally, you avoid lingering at work. You go through your usual routine as an employee, nothing special or fun — a hello, goodbye, see you tomorrow to colleagues without worrying about what’s happening around you or the gossip, even when it involves coworkers getting together.

The only change: now it’s you who gets stuck with the task of delivering all the documents to the general manager. According to one of your peers, he doesn’t seem to be strict or threatening when it comes to you. So this time, you’re tasked with delivering an additional file about the production of a new product on the market to both the CEO and the general manager. For the second time, you head up to the highest floors of the company headquarters to knock on the CEO’s door — it’s the closest. But no one answers.

No surprise, since the director’s son spends his time running through the hallways to avoid his father and shirk his responsibilities, right?

You’re about to knock on the Director’s door, but a familiar gust of wind brushes your face with a soft, fresh breeze. Satoru Gojo appears beside you with a charming smile and glances at what you’re holding.

“H-Hello, sweetheart. How are… you?” he greets, slightly out of breath from yet another chase with his father.

“I’m fine. Here.” You hand him one of the folders, and he takes it, pretending to read it. “The next meeting—” But he grabs the second document and, before you can react, opens the door to his office and casually tosses them inside before shutting the door.

“SATORU GOJO! KEEP IT UP, AND I’LL DISOWN YOU!” The boss’s voice echoes through the entire floor as he appears from behind the emergency exit door. “YOU!” He points a finger at you, standing right next to him. “Still bothering our employees?” He grumbles, his jaw clenched so tightly that you can hear his teeth grinding.

“That’s not true, father!” Satoru protests, feigning outrage. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re chasing me while I’m just saying hello to my girlfriend?”

You freeze, turning your head toward him, as lost as the Director, who squints his eyes. “Your girlfriend? Since when—”

“I was going to tell you,” Satoru continues, shaking his head, his fingers squeezing your waist while you remain paralyzed. “Here’s my new girlfriend.”

“Are you lying to me and dragging some poor woman into your childish games?”

In the back of your mind, you note that he doesn’t seem to recognize you despite the last time you saw each other.

“What? I’m telling the truth! Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” And he leans in to plant an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

Your heart almost stops for a second. But you quickly snap back to reality under the insistent embrace of his arm and his hand around you. “Y-Yes…”

What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, father, my darling and I are in a hurry.” He leads you away before you have time to protest and heads toward the elevator with you.

Once the doors close, Satoru takes your hands in his and leans toward you. “I can explain everything.”

If his cerulean blue eyes hadn’t been so persuasive, you would have exploded right there and then to yell at him.

You, the girlfriend of the CEO of the company you work for? Did this really have to happen to you? You can already picture your termination letter under your nose as you exit the back of the building. A glance at your watch tells you that if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late to pick up your daughter.

“You’re in a rush?”

“I have to pick up my daughter before I’m late,” you reply curtly, “and look at the mess I’m in now!”

“I know, I know…” Satoru rubs the back of his head, right where his immaculate undercut is. “Maybe I can explain on the way? Where’s your car?” He looks around the parking lot, his eyes searching.

The question — however mundane — makes you blush with embarrassment. “I… take public transportation…” you mumble, pouting.

He furrows his brow, as if you just admitted to showering with maggot-infested soap. “Excuse me? I don’t take public transportation.”

“Well, I do.” A hint of defiance returns to protect your pride.

How could he possibly understand when he lives like a rich man, without worrying about grocery shopping, paying bills, and of course, taking public transportation during the week to avoid wasting gas because it costs an arm and a leg! But for him, that must not be part of his daily life, especially since he’s one of society’s privileged.

“Let’s take my car then.” He says this without waiting for you, as you remain standing there. He pulls out his keys and opens the passenger door. “What are you waiting for?”

“But— I— Are you out of your mind?” you burst out. “I’m not getting in that car! I’m supposed to pick up my daughter, and now I’m pretending to be your girlfriend! In front of your father!” You emphasize your words with wild, energetic gestures.

He bursts out laughing.

Cute.

“No chance. We’re going to pick up your daughter and clear this all up. And please, stop refusing to get into a car that’s way better than those buses that reek of sweat.” He rolls his eyes, and you note how much he resembles his father when he does that.

“I have an errand to run anyway,” you persist.

“And that doesn’t change the fact that I want you to get in this car,” Satoru chuckles.

Taking a closer look, the car is as luxurious as the ones you dream about at night — yours, by comparison, looks like a junk heap ready for the scrapyard. Reluctantly, you climb in, Satoru’s chivalrous demeanor not going unnoticed as he snickers at your surrender. He quickly gets in, asks for the address of the school, and sets off after starting his car, which smells just as good as he does. You feel like a piece of trash in the middle of this little universe he inhabits.

“My father bugs me every day to find a woman,” Satoru murmurs at first, one hand resting on his thigh, clad in business suit trousers, his eyes fixed on the road over his round sunglasses. “That’s one of the reasons I avoid him.”

“And why involve me?” you snap back.

“Well, to be honest, it was partly impulsive. I met you the other day, and then, in the moment, I just wanted my father to leave me alone.” He has a half-smile that makes you swallow hard, and he gives you a knowing look before returning to a serious expression. “I’m sorry for dragging you into all this.” A pause. “I just hope you’re not married, otherwise—”

“No, I— No.” You close your eyes for a moment, the innocent question burning like a fiery arrow piercing your already aching heart. Did you just hear a sigh of relief? “And your father doesn’t seem to have recognized me since the other day,” you can’t help but point out.

“The mask.” Satoru grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “He didn’t recognize you because of that. He’s always had a bad memory and poor eyesight.”

“But you recognized me.” You focus on the road’s scenery to avoid confronting his mesmerizing eyes. “I’m not going to wear my mask forever, you know? And I don’t want to keep pretending—”

“Please,” Satoru whispers, placing a hand on yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “Just until he and my family get off my back.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“How much do you want?” He asks immediately, as if he just remembered something.

“What? No! I don’t want your money!” you protest as quickly as he did. “No, I…” And you groan, sinking into your seat.

Holy shit!

“What have I gotten myself into, seriously…” you moan, crossing your arms over your chest, a grimace distorting your features.

“Please. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll do everything to make it just a minor detail… I’m only asking you to change your name in front of my father when you pass as my girlfriend, wear a mask, and change your hairstyle at work — if we want to avoid suspicion. He won’t suspect a thing, I swear.” He pulls into the school parking lot and parks quietly.

Thoughts bombard your already exhausted mind, and you massage your temples. Why does this have to happen to you and no one else?

Satoru murmurs your name, making you lift your head. “It will only be a few family events, just for appearances, nothing more. I won’t bother you any further.”

You sigh, and the sound of the bell signaling the end of classes rings out. “I need to think about it. Thanks for the ride. Have a nice—”

“Come back. I’ll take you home,” Satoru suggests, pressing the button to unlock your door.

What’s the point of refusing?

You nod, finally getting out of the car to go pick up your daughter, who runs toward you as soon as you reach the gate.

"Mama!" She jumps into your arms.

You return her embrace, heading towards Satoru’s car. “Did you have a good day?”

“So much fun! I made you a drawing!” She’s practically bouncing as you reach the car.

Noticing your daughter’s confused look, you clear your throat. “Uh… A-A friend of mine is giving us a ride home, okay?” She blinks innocently and waits for you to open the car door, which is almost as tall as she is. Hinata gets in as you do, and you cough slightly. “This is Gojo. My friend.”

“Hello, princess.” Satoru turns his head over his shoulder with a big smile. “What’s your name?”

“Hinata,” she replies, her legs gently swinging.

“Very pretty.”

“Thank you.” She blushes and tries to hide a smile.

On the way, you try to fill the awkward silences with small talk until you arrive at the supermarket.

You had promised to buy Hinata a new stuffed animal since last night after spending hours worrying that you weren’t being a good mother. Again.

“That one!” Hinata almost runs towards a bunny plushie that’s twice the size of her head. She grabs it with her little arms and gives it a hug.

Satoru and you reach the aisle, and out of habit, you check the price under the albino’s watchful eye. Your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you see the amount, and you place a trembling hand on Hina’s shoulder. “Angel, I think it’s—”

“…Perfect,” Satoru finishes, his large hands taking the plushie from your daughter’s tight embrace to check the price tag with its shocking number. “Do you like it, little one?” he asks, looking down at her.

Hina nods energetically. “Yeah!”

“Then we’ll take it.” Satoru hands the plushie back to her and turns towards the checkout lane, already reaching into one of his pockets for what looks like… a wallet.

You react immediately, your hands finding their way around his arm. He doesn’t push you away at all and even smiles at the contact. “Gojo… No.”

“It’s Satoru to you, sweetheart,” he whispers gently. “And why not? It’s just a stuffed animal,” he scoffs. He takes Hinata’s hand so she can place the plushie on the conveyor belt.

“No, it’s not nothing to me,” you persist through clenched teeth, embarrassed that the cashier might be paying attention to your conversation.

Satoru shrugs. The cashier scans the plushie, and he uses contactless payment to pay for it. With your hands still around his arm, he places one of his on top, an intimate closeness.

“I could get used to this,” he murmurs near your ear, making you turn beet red. But he can’t continue as your daughter clings to Satoru’s leg like a koala, showering him with a thousand thank-yous for the gift. “You’re welcome, little one.��� His hand gently ruffles her hair. He grins, now turning back to you. “It’s on me. You don’t owe me anything.”

Your discreet protests, so Hinata doesn’t suspect anything, come to an end when he drops both of you off in front of your home. Hinata commented that Satoru’s car looked like the one from the movie Barbie: Princess Charm School she had seen recently. He unlocks the doors as you get out of the car. Satoru’s hand catches yours, slipping a piece of cardstock into it. His contact details are on it.

“Just in case,” he mouths silently.

Nevertheless, you slip the business card into your pocket and respond just before closing the door, “I accept.”

°°°°

“And no funny business, okay? Never run in the hallways, if he tells you to wait, don’t move an inch, and—” You stop yourself as you notice your daughter is more interested in admiring the elegant decorations of the office hallways with wide, doe-like eyes and an adorable, slightly open mouth.

To your great misfortune, Hinata’s preschool is on strike for a while — which means almost all the teachers are absent. So how do you take care of your daughter when you can’t afford to miss work? By bringing her to your fake boyfriend’s office, of course! You quickly make your way toward Satoru’s office, Hinata following with her hand in yours. But just as you raise your fist to knock on his door, two large hands land on your shoulders, nearly scaring the life out of you.

“Hey, hey!” You whip around abruptly, a new mask on your face — just as the plan intended.

“Satoru…” you grit through your teeth. Hinata looks up at him and grins. You sigh.

“What do I owe the pleasure of all this lovely company?” Satoru asks, not taking his eyes off yours while giving Hinata a high-five.

As usual, he’s dressed in a luxurious suit — probably worth the rent of the apartment you live in — his slightly tousled albino hair and the familiar scent of cologne filling your nostrils. You catch yourself staring a little too long, and mentally kick yourself when his curious gaze turns mischievous.

He just realized you were checking him out, damn it!

“Hinata’s school is on strike. I need you to watch her for the day, if that’s not a problem, and since you seemed so insistent on returning the favor I’m doing for you…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze. “I see you’re spending your day roaming the offices rather than staying in yours…”

“No problem at all,” Satoru replies automatically, a pleased smile on his lips. “Ready to go to the CEO’s office?” He picks up Hina, who giggles and clings to him like a koala.

It’s your turn to smile in relief. “Thank you so much. I have a meeting with your father in an hour, and I’ll come get her at noon and again at the end of the day.” The sight of the two of them close together makes your heart melt — and for once, you don’t blame yourself for seeing Hinata happy to be with someone else.

°°°°

5:00 PM.

You’ve sent a message to Satoru asking where he was, since knocking on his perpetually empty office seems to be pointless. The meeting with the other company members about organizing the launch of a new product was particularly painful, but one thing is certain: the general manager didn’t recognize you with your more subdued hairstyle and the mask plastered on your face.

“Come to the parking lot like last time.”

And that’s the last message from Satoru (you gave him your number during lunch).

In the empty parking lot, only Satoru’s car is present, and you cast a curious glance through the windows. The two troublemakers give you a grimace — tongues sticking out and faces scrunched up. You sigh as the passenger door opens automatically.

“Satoru, you don’t have to—”

“Hina said yes and that she wants to come to my place,” Satoru cuts in with a mocking expression.

Reluctantly, you get in, your heart pounding in your chest with all sorts of panicked thoughts. However, Satoru doesn’t seem to share your reservations and starts driving as soon as you’re settled.

“So, this means you’re coming to my place,” he says, hands on the wheel and a quick glance in the rearview mirror, “and I’m inviting you to dinner.”

“No—”

“Mom! Please, Satoru is being too nice.” Hinata complains. You glance back, and she looks at you with wounded, pleading puppy eyes, arms crossed over her chest.

You grumble, slumping back against your seat as they both cheer in victory.

“By the way, I’m stopping by your place so you can pack. We’re invited to a family wedding, and my father invited us.”

“WHAT?”

°°°°

You place a box with your gift on the designated table for presents, and an arm wraps around your waist. “You look stunning,” Satoru murmurs against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin, which breaks out in goosebumps.

With a flushed face, you turn your head. “Satoru…”

“What? Just because we’re pretending to be a couple and barely know each other doesn’t mean I can’t speak the truth.” He pauses. “Well, actually, we do know each other a bit, don’t we? We’ve had dinner together.” He chuckles at your half-grimacing, half-deadpan expression, pulling you closer as music fills the wedding reception hall.

You turn your head along with him toward the back of the room, where the bride’s bouquet is about to be thrown. A tight smile curves your lips — this is one thing you’ve dreamed of. Dreams have always been just that — dreams in your life, and even when love comes knocking at your door, it’s only passing through, just like your situation with Satoru.

His father didn’t notice anything, and since Satoru lives alone in a villa, it’s hard to say no when he offered for you to stay with him until he’s settled, with your own room and a staff available 24/7. He even had a tailor make a custom dress for the wedding you were both invited to. Hinata is looked after by a lovely nurse, and you’re enjoying a life you’ve always dreamed of. So why not make the most of it despite your past?

A Satoru who’s too comfortable with you isn’t so bothersome given the time you’ve spent together lately — both at the office, acting as a couple in front of certain people, and sometimes showing affection to each other to appear believable, even though they haven’t asked for kisses yet, so—

A fluffy and soft object lands right in the middle of your face and falls into your arms. You search for what seems to be a petal in your mouth and suck in your breath at what you realize it is.

The bride’s bouquet.

A gulp forces its way down your throat as the whole room applauds because… you’ve been hit in the face with the bouquet? Not to mention the lamentations of other female cousins who had jumped with all their hopes to catch it… But why you, who hadn’t asked for anything?

“Sweetheart?” Satoru mutters, his chest still pressed against your back. His tone is so sweet, nonchalant, as if you’ve been a couple for years. “My father is watching us, and I think he’s expecting me to do something.”

You swallow and nod, dreading what might happen next. Will your heart stop beating when Satoru says:

“May I kiss you?”

Never, ever, has anyone asked you that question. Not even your ex.

So, with a nervous nod, you allow him to capture your lips in a soft, languid kiss. His tender lips taste like the cotton candy children eat at the fair. They cherish yours with every movement (which you can’t help but return in kind). Each press sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

When the kiss ends, Satoru places one last kiss on the corner of your lips and clears his throat. “This is the first time I’ve wanted to marry my girlfriend.” His warm breath ignites your body.

Has your heart exploded?

If not, why can’t you breathe?

“Awww… How adorable you are with your pretty girlfriend, Satoru!”

An elderly woman approaches you both, supported by her old cane, and you note her albino hair, similar to Satoru’s.

“My dear aunt…” Satoru smiles widely without breaking away from you.

“You make a lovely couple,” Aunt Gojo continues, giving you a wise look.

“Oh, thank you.” You immediately bow and introduce yourself. Satoru’s hands squeeze your waist, and he chuckles at your manners.

“Take good care of her, you idiot,” the aunt finishes before drifting away, a tap of her cane on Satoru’s head making him sigh and rub his sore skull.

“Well, at least we look convincing, right?” he adds.

“Yes…”

Of course, he said that because he saw his aunt before you! Don’t think he said it because he meant it or—

“By the way,” Satoru takes your hand in his and leads you to the center of the dance floor, “I meant what I said before my aunt interrupted us.”

And you’re at a loss on how to interpret his playful wink.

°°°°

“WOW! Hinata, you’re so rich!”

“Is this your dad’s castle?”

Hinata takes Satoru’s hand and faces her friends in his chic living room. “It’s my daddy’s!” She nods proudly and runs off with them toward the games and festivities organized for her birthday. The children run everywhere, scream, and burst into laughter throughout the room. The perfect atmosphere.

It’s exactly what you’ve always dreamed of giving Hina.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmur to Satoru, who, despite your comment, shakes his head joyfully.

“I’m glad she likes it,” he replies.

“I wasn’t talking about the party.”

He freezes and turns his head toward you. “Didn’t you tell me you’d never been married?” he dares to whisper, possibly afraid of hurting you.

“That’s true. My ex left after learning I was pregnant with Hinata.” You exhale the breath you’ve been holding, the weight of the secret finally lifted.

Maybe he won’t want to keep pretending to be your boyfriend after this…

“You can still tell me his name, you know, sweetheart?” Satoru moves closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, as if it’s completely natural for him, but there’s a tension in his touch. “I can take care of him and—”

You shake your head to dispel the tiny bit of resentment that’s urging you to say yes. “It’s okay. Thanks for agreeing to pretend to be her father. I know it’s going to be a bit of a hassle for a while, but she cares a lot—”

“Nuh-uh.” He places a kiss on your cheek, then another on the side of your neck, causing you to shiver. “She’s already talked about it in my office.”

You open your eyes wide. “What…?”

“Hinata likes you much more than you think… You’ve suffered too much,” His other hand glides over your stomach, and his thumb traces affectionate circles on your waist.

“Thank you,” you breathe, leaning into his touch. And for a moment, the weight on your shoulders completely lifts. “We haven’t had the best birthdays recently, so I’m happy to see Hinata get what she wants.” Your eyes rest on your daughter, dressed as a fairy, waving her glittery wand at one of her friends dressed as a witch. “So, thank you for everything.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. But which birthday are you talking about? Yours? When was it?”

Embarrassed, your mouth feels dry. “...A while ago.”

Satoru pulls you tightly against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you, his nose buried in your hair. “You’re such a strong woman… I can take care of you if you want. You and Hina will live like princesses, and if you want to sleep with her or have your own room, that’s no problem for me.”

“What? No, Satoru, you’re joking…”

“I’m not joking,” he insists, his gaze diving into yours — and for a second, sincerity fills his cerulean eyes.

With your mouth slightly open, you whisper, “We barely know each other, and—”

“Mama! Papa! We need to break the piñata!” Hinata rushes over to you, not paying any attention to how close you are to Satoru, and grabs each of your hands.

“Yes, angel, we’re coming,” you respond to your daughter with a weary smile, before glancing at Satoru, who is no longer looking in your direction.

Why are his ears so red?

°°°°

You place the last birthday decoration box in a corner of the living room as Satoru asked and straighten up with a grimace from your aching back. “Geez…”

The upper floor of the huge house is strangely quiet, and you furrow your brows. Could they have gone downstairs?

“Hinata? Satoru?” you call out as you walk through the hallways.

The evening darkness makes it hard to see clearly, and only the faint beam of light escaping from the kitchen door guides you.

“Are you there?” you ask, gently pushing the door open, and what you find leaves you stunned.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” the two of them exclaim, holding an enormous cake between them.

A few candles illuminate the underside of their beaming faces, party hats perched on their heads. The kitchen is a huge mess, counters covered in flour and frosting, and dishes overflow from the sink, threatening to topple over.

You stand speechless as they continue to sing your birthday song. Your nostrils and eyes start to itch strangely. Why is your vision suddenly blurring? It looks like transparent waves just above your lower lashes, threatening to overflow if you dare to blink. Yet, you can’t escape it.

Not when they set the cake on the table and pull you into a hug while your nose runs, tears roll down your cheeks, and your choked-up throat is on the verge of bursting into sobs. Satoru keeps kissing your hair, never stopping for a second to comfort you with sweet and reassuring words, his hand drawing circles on your back. Hinata wipes your tears while her own roll down her little cheeks.

Seeing you cry has always been contagious for her.

The moment gives you a glimpse of what your life would be like if you had a complete family, and Satoru’s words echo in your mind. How could he be so perfect in just a few weeks of knowing him?

Once the emotion passes, a few minutes later, you eat your birthday cake with laughter and cheer, accompanied not just by the one person who now means everything to you, but by both.

°°°°

“Watch out, Hina. You have applesauce on your chin,” Satoru chuckles, his hand grabbing a napkin to wipe the excess food around the child’s mouth.

The heartwarming scene makes your heart swell. You definitely don’t regret going out with Satoru and Hinata to have a meal at a chic terrace in their company. The family atmosphere finally gives you a glimpse of the life you’ve always hoped to live. Hinata growing up with a loving father and mother, and you, loved and supported by an ideal partner. Why not reconsider Satoru’s proposal, then? He’s the first man to think of you, even after your birthday had passed some time ago.

“I’m going to the restroom,” you murmur to Satoru, who nods in response, a wry smile curling his pink lips.

But why did it have to be on this day that a man finally approaches the two people you care about just as you slip away? He clearly waited from afar for you to let your guard down around your daughter so he could show up right in the middle of the table, facing a little girl — his daughter, technically — next to a man who isn’t her father.

Satoru slowly raises his head toward him, brows furrowed and wary. “Can I help you?”

Your ex says your name. “Where is she?” he mimics asking as if he didn’t know.

“What do you want with her?”

“To talk to her. I have the right. And you’re with my daughter, just so you know.” He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to appear threatening, but Satoru remains stoic, more contemptuous than anything else in the face of such a scruffy, unshaven nuisance.

“She’s not here; you can leave,” Satoru responds. And out of protective instinct, he pulls Hinata’s chair closer to him, his eyes narrowed. Satoru understands perfectly that your ex is back to claim his rights over his daughter, just as he’s been harassing you with messages about it.

“Excuse me? When my daughter is in the arms of a stranger? I could call the police immediately and we’ll sort this out very quickly,” your ex retorts sharply. He takes a step toward a lost Hinata, her big doe eyes blinking innocently between the two men. Of course, she doesn’t recognize him.

An altercation begins between the two, which naturally attracts the attention of other diners around. And you walk into the middle of the scene, frozen in shock at the sight of your ex hurling threats at Satoru.

“She’s taking my daughter, so I’m taking her back! And it’s not a bastard like you who’s going to help her regain my rights!” your ex spits with venom. His icy eyes find yours, terrified, your hands trembling and your complexion as pale as a sheet. He’s about to address you with the same angry speech, his face flushed with rage and a vein ready to burst at his temple.

Do you get déjà vu?

“‘Your daughter’?” Satoru repeats with a deadly gaze and a jaw quivering with rage. “She’s been sitting next to me for over an hour, I’ve been feeding her for over an hour, she’s been calling me by my name for over an hour, and you’re talking about ‘your daughter’? At this point, whose daughter is she... yours or mine?”

Your ex, publicly humiliated, opens his eyes wide with hatred. “You little son of—”

“Sir, we ask that you leave the terrace; you’re disturbing our customers,” a security guard declares firmly. He’s accompanied by another colleague, and when your ex protests, they grab him by the arm and escort him away amidst his shouting and the murmurs of other customers who keep staring at the three of you.

You move closer to Satoru, who immediately stands up upon seeing you — having not realized you were there — and can only offer you an apologetic look. “Let’s go,” you silently mouth (your throat too tight to dare let a sound escape, fearing it might break before you say anything), taking the hand of a silent and lost Hinata. “I’ll pay the bill and—”

“It’s already taken care of; we can go,” Satoru gently interrupts, following you to his car.

And it’s on the silent drive back that you realize something.

You’ve officially fallen in love with Satoru Gojo.

°°°°

“Look, Mom, Dad and I made a drawing for you!” Hinata proudly holds up a colorful picture with three easily recognizable characters on it.

“Did you brush your teeth?” you ask as you take the drawing to admire it, just as much smiling as your daughter. She nods and then does a little twirl to show off her new pajamas that Satoru gave her earlier in the day. “It’s beautiful. You’re so talented,” you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

Satoru appears in the doorway of Hinata’s room, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest, a perpetual playful smile curving his lips. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Yes, and I showed our drawing to mama,” Hinata asserts, bouncing on her bed.

“Oh yeah? Did mama like it?” Satoru asks softly, his eyes now locked with yours.

“Mama loved it and thanks Daddy,” you whisper, your voice quivering with emotion that threatens to spill over.

Half an hour later, Satoru and you find yourselves in the hallway with a sleeping Hinata and her little lullaby snores.

Satoru wraps his arm around your waist as usual and buries his face in your neck. Your heart is already racing, and your breath catches when he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” The embrace is a simple hug but with unspoken words easily guessed.

“For everything.” Satoru sighs, and for a split second, you hope he’ll let you speak, but no. “I didn’t mean to make a scene and—”

“And you think I’m going to blame you for protecting us? That I wasn’t touched by what you said about Hina?” you mumble near his ear. The closeness gives you another chance to see his ears turn red. “Is Satoru shy?” you giggle, open to teasing. He hums, hiding his face so you don’t see his expression.

“I love you.”

You blink, because you must have heard wrong. “Huh?”

“Marry me.” And he’s already on his knees before you, eyes pleading. That usually confident cerulean blue is now so submissive, so close at hand… But the sudden turn of events leaves you stunned. “I want to be your husband, not just have you as my wife. I want to raise Hina with you and give you everything you need.�� Not letting himself be distracted by your stunned expression, he continues, “Want my money? I’ll give it to you. My house? It will be in your name. Want my body? It belongs to you. My heart? It’s already yours.” And he starts kissing the backs of your hands desperately. “I love you, I love you… Please, marry me…”

“Satoru… You—” you stammer, backing away, your brow furrowed. Everything is a jumble in your head, both from his touching declaration but also because it’s all moving too fast for you. “You… love me?” you manage to whisper.

He crawls to you and wraps his large arms around your thighs, almost choking with desperation. “I fell in love with you as soon as I saw you, as soon as you covered me from my father, as soon as I heard your laugh, saw the amazing mother you are, and realized I never wanted you to leave this house.” He whispers your name like a divine invocation. “I’ve fallen in love with you more than just once.”

You don’t immediately respond, and that’s okay in his eyes. He doesn’t want to pressure you, just for you to know the truth and for him to be completely transparent with you.

“It’s okay if you don’t share my feelings; I just want you to know that—” But he’s cut off by your rush toward him on the floor as you press your lips to his, pulling him into the dance of your lips that one gives to the other in a long, passionate kiss. “God… I love you so much…”

“I love you too, Satoru,” you murmur against his mouth between kisses that turn into moans as he slides his warm, wet tongue between your lips to request access to your mouth.

Both of your breaths become ragged and heavy. Satoru takes the opportunity to lift you by the underside of your thighs and lead you to his bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him without breaking the contact of your swollen, desirous lips. He gently lays you on the king-size bed with silver satin and frost-blue sheets.

With a tenderness of loving slowness, Satoru breaks the kiss. “Do you want to continue?” he asks, his voice husky. You nod timidly, but he shakes his head with his mischievous smile — finally back. “Nuh-uh. Your words, sweetheart.”

“I want it, Satoru,” you reply after a sigh of exasperation so adorable in his eyes that it makes him laugh, then he places a light kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Alright… Gonna take care of my beautiful girl, the best, the most wonderful mother, and maybe future wife—” He places a finger on your lips. “Oh no, you’ll answer that later if you want, when I have something concrete for that occasion.”

You sigh in frustration because the answer is already on the tip of your tongue, but it soon turns into a moan as he kisses the side of your neck with such deliberate slowness that you really wonder if he’s going to tease you to the limit. His hands roam over your clothed chest, exploring your already hardened nipples. His lips find their way to your collarbone, marking it with love bites and hickeys that elicit muffled moans from you.

“If you knew how long I’ve dreamed of doing this…” Satoru comments with a touch of affection, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. “Exactly how I would act with my wife—”

“And your father?” And he chuckles again.

“We don’t care about him.” He casually tosses your top aside to tease your sensitive, erect nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. “Such humble underwear… Would you like me to buy you something more daring?” he purrs, pulling on a strap to snap it against your gooseflesh-covered skin.

“Would you do that?” You bring your lips to his, and he immediately responds to the kiss. You also remove his black turtleneck sweater to reveal his toned, muscular torso. An adventurous hand glides over his chest, making him groan slightly, and then stops at his lower abdomen where a vein runs lower down. You place a kiss there with a small, sly smile.

For the first time, you’re about to make love with someone.

“Hmm? Satoru? Have you ever thought of me in outfits like this?” Your nimble fingers unbutton his pants, revealing a prominent bulge in his fly.

“Sweetheart, don’t—” he hisses between his teeth from the sensation of the slight friction between his erection and your eager fingers as they pull down his pants to caress and rub his dick through the thin fabric of his boxer. “Your hands feel so good…” He breathes softly, his hands stroking your bare arms with a feather-light touch.

“Answer my question…” you purr, your nails pulling at the underwear to free his hard, twitching cock. The tip is perfectly reddened, with veins coursing along its pale length of 8 inches. Almost automatically, your mouth waters, and you waste no time kissing the slit of his already glistening tip with pre.

“Babe, don’t tease…” Satoru closes his eyes and lets your hand wrap around his length, begging to be touched. “F-fuck— Yes, yes, I’ve thought about it, about buying you the most expensive and luxurious lingerie— ah!” he almost whimpers. You take a little over 2 inches of him into your mouth to stroke the base. “But also in those maternity clothes— oh god… C-can you really blame me?” He rolls his eyes and can’t help but buck his hips toward you, his body pleading for your mouth to take care of him.

You withdraw his cock from your mouth to whisper, “So you’re a naughty boy, hmm?”

“I won’t last if you keep this up— hgnn…” he whimpers completely, his dick splitting your mouth in two as you take him all in. Your head starts to bob back and forth, and he is so close that he spills moans of your name. “G’nna cum, baby, don’t—”

You hollow your cheeks, and the next moment, he cums in your mouth, long, thick ropes of his release filling your already full mouth with his shaft. You hum under his orgasm and swallow slowly. You slide his dick out of your mouth with the same rhythm to smile at a Satoru with ears as red as his cheeks.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his calloused finger wiping away the mixed cord of your saliva and his cum with a swipe of his thumb.

“M-hmm… You taste so sweet…” He doesn’t let you continue and crushes his lips against yours, tasting himself on your mouth. “I want you, Satoru…”

“I’m yours, princess.” He helps you quickly remove your remaining underwear so that you’re completely naked in front of him, knees resting on the expensive mattress. He kneels at the foot of the bed, and his fingers explore your sensitive, already dripping cunt.

“So wet for me… Did I do this to you just with my cock?” His fingers spread your swollen folds to gather your fluids and rub your throbbing, needy clit.

Your nails dig into his arm as you lift your hips under the sharp pleasure. “Satoru, it feels good…” you gasp in a whimper. His forefinger and middle finger spread your wetness all around your intimacy. “Please don’t tease…”

“Not tease? Weren’t you doing it, sweetheart? What a nerve,” Satoru scoffs, tapping his finger at your entrance. “Can I?”

“Please…” You wince as you move your hips down for more. And that’s exactly what he does, immediately inserting his finger into you, cursing.

“You’re so fucking tight… and so wet,” he curses, his finger moving in and out of you with careful softness. “I can already fuck you without making you cum first.” He stops finger-fucking you and looks up at you. “Is that what you want, love?”

You nod before arching your back on the bed. Satoru climbs onto the mattress and helps you wrap your legs around him. “That’s it…” He takes his length in his hand and teases your responsive cunt with the tip to get it wetter.

“Don’t tease, Toru, I swear…” And he smirks.

“Toru?”

“Sorry, I—”

His tip presses against your tight, pulsing entrance, and he grins. “I want you to moan that nickname while I fuck you, ’kay?” He grips your hips to pull you closer to him, and with one swift movement, he slides into you, a groan escaping from behind his lips as your deliciously tight, warm, gummy walls wrap around him as if you were meant for him.

The stretch causes a slight discomfort at first, and you almost cry in relief when Satoru notices. He patiently waits for you to adjust before starting a slow, deep rhythm inside you.

You widen your lustful eyes, tears forming at their corners. “Ah! Toru… Jus’ like that…” Your eyes roll back as the tip of Satoru’s dick hits the back of your cervix, making you shiver and tighten around him. “Fuck… s’deep…”

“So fucking perfect, so fucking mine,” Satoru groans, his hips rocking into you without ceasing to swell between your gummy walls. His chest rises and falls in a breath as ragged as yours, asking for more every time you moan for him to go deeper. (He discreetly rolls his eyes and babbles incomprehensible words — completely pussy drunk.)

And that’s exactly what he does. He slams back in brutally, making you cry out his name with each thrust. “Shhh… You don’t want Hina to hear us, right? So keep quiet, baby…” He helps stifle your gasps and moans of pleasure by capturing your lips with his, alternating between fast, rough thrusts and slow, gentle ones in your hole that he fucks shamelessly.

Blood rushes to your ears, a rare sensation you haven’t truly felt the last time you were with someone. It wasn’t just about carnal pleasure between Satoru and you — but about love. The fusion of bodies loving each other and providing mutual pleasure, even as they burn for each other— physically and emotionally.

One of Satoru’s hands slowly slides to one of your breasts and teases a sensitive nipple. The arch in your back encourages him to detach his mouth from yours to capture the other nipple with his wet lips. The growl he lets out sends a wave of intense shivers through you, making your eyes roll in overstimulation.

“P-please, Toru, please, I’m already close,” you whimper against your trembling palm — a feeble attempt to contain your sweet sounds as he speeds up his hip movements in your sloppy cunt — the sound of his balls slapping your skin filling the room. Your words are punctuated by the tightening of your walls around him, swearing he could cum inside you just from hearing you beg.

“Cum on my cock, baby, cover it,” he coos, giving another kiss to your abused chest. The clenching of your jaw with your teeth dug into your lower lip forces you to groan. “Want me to fill you up?” And you nod, tears showing your imminent orgasm. “Anything for you, my beautiful girl.” His hips slam against yours, and his fingers continue to tease your breast, rubbing your puffy clit.

Satoru’s own breath becomes heavier, more labored as he keeps singing praises while you gasp, his lips pressed along the line of kisses he’s placing down your jaw. “T-Toru, Toru, cumming!” you cry out as your walls spasm around his cock while he reaches his peak and fills you with his hot, liquid release, warming your lower abdomen. You see blinding stars illuminating your vision.

He hisses almost gutturally, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Oh god… S-Squeezing me while I’m cumming too…” He closes his eyes for a moment, letting his peak subside at the same rhythm as yours, his forehead damp with sweat resting against your chest. 

Only pants and groans escape your lips, each one accompanied by difficult swallows and the feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed against each other.

“How was it? Did I make you feel good?” Satoru asks immediately, once his breath has returned.

The concerned questions touch your heart so deeply that you lift tearful eyes to him. “Are you going to leave, after this?”

His expression falters, and he gently withdraws from you to envelop you in his embrace. “No, baby, of course not… I won’t, I swear on my life I won’t leave you… I’m not him. I’m the one who hopes you won’t leave…” he whispers hurriedly. “Don’t think about that. I’ll always be here, for you and for Hina…”

You sniffle, your eyes red. But Satoru smiles tenderly, wiping away your hot tears. “Save your tears for later, sweetheart.”

“Why?” You clear your throat.

He sighs, the aftermath of the effort from the activity settling on him, and places a chaste kiss on your sweaty temple. “Did I tell you that my father invited us to dinner tomorrow night?”

“No,” you shake your head, “but what’s the link?”

“Don’t you understand?” he murmurs in your ear, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll understand in time.”

°°°°

“I see. So it was an unexpected encounter.” Gojo’s father nods, shrugging his shoulders. “But I wonder how a woman like you can have feelings for such a fool…”

Satoru chokes on a piece of meat he’s chewing and takes a sip of his water. You stifle a giggle, with some steamed vegetables speared on your fork, just waiting for you to devour them. For a man who appears so stern and strict, Mr. Gojo is quite a wealthy man who spends his days reprimanding his son for not doing this or that.

Yet, there’s a certain paternal camaraderie between them — a father-son relationship, if you will.

“That’s not true,” Satoru retorts, his voice still gravelly. He has an adorable pout on his lips, like a child wrongly scolded.

“Yes, like you’re not a womanizer,” his father retorts, rolling his eyes.

“It was so you’d leave me alone,” with furrowed brows, he wears a mischievous smile at his father’s incredulous expression, “but sweetheart came into my life,” he continues, looking at you with a tenderness he has rarely shown.

“I hope you manage to put up with him until… well, until you decide to marry — if that’s what you choose,” his father sighs, turning his attention back to the dish in front of him.

“Satoru isn’t a bad person, you know,” you start gently. “He is certainly a thoughtless brat with grotesque immaturity,” Satoru almost spits out his water this time, and you continue with a wry smile, “but he has a great sense of attention and unmatched generosity. I believe he will be a good husband, I assure you.”

“I must admit,” he says with a wise smile, his wrinkles less pronounced.

Satoru casually says your name, “Yeah, yeah… By the way, could you pass me the salt, please?”

You freeze, while Satoru’s father suddenly looks up with an incredulous expression. “Who?”

And you smack your forehead with the palm of your hand.

°°°°

The cries of a newborn fill the room as, breathless and on the verge of fainting, the midwives congratulate you, bringing your second child wrapped in clean blankets at your request.

“He’s beautiful…” Satoru murmurs as he approaches you, leaning down to the tiny baby with his albino hair and blue eyes — his exact likeness. “Thank you, my love, thank you, thank you, thank you…” His voice breaks as you raise a weak, exhausted hand toward him, but with a serene smile on your lips as you whisper how much you love each other.

He immediately wraps his fingers around yours, your wedding rings sparkling as they brush together like stars sealed for eternity.

a/n: how i love desperate men, hihi! 🤭 hope you all enjoyed this one-shot!

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ “have you ever tried this one?” in which kook!sweetheart!reader convinces rafe to take her to go see one of her favorite artists, and as a ‘thank you’ she and rafe have to do whatever position sabrina demo’s for her song “juno”..

warnings: fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, breeding kink (?)

a/n: so sad because i didn’t get to see sabrina on tour, and she has had me in the meanest chokehold lately :( click this link to see what position i’m referring to <3

when the dates dropped for sabrina’s ‘short n’ sweet’ tour, rafe wasted no time in buying you two tickets. of course, you didn’t know this and begged him for weeks until he finally told you yes, your flight and hotel room already booked for a nice little weekend getaway. rafe helped you make your concert outfit, both of you spending hours on the whole ensemble. the end result was absolutely stunning and rafe couldn’t stop taking pictures of you.

he posted one on the night of the concert, captioning it ‘my little popstar princess <3’ and you two were off to the stadium. while you knew wearing sparkly white platform boots wouldn’t be the best choice to walk in, you stuck it through, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the music started, any kind of discomfort you felt had melted away as you were far too distracted singing along to every song that boomed through the venue.

babydoll lingerie top with pink fluffy trim, dedazzled stockings, glittery makeup, your hair freshly done, rafe swore you never looked prettier. even though he was against wearing anything that sparkled, he decided to wear a plain pink t-shirt to match with you in his own little way. he kept his arms wrapped around your waist as you two sung, having learned the lyrics to every song since you insisted on being in charge of the aux cord whenever you two were in his truck.

eventually, you two were swaying softly, rafe’s chin resting in the curve of your neck as you stroked the skin of his arm. “thank you for bringing me here.” you smiled up at him, connecting your lips as the intro to ‘juno’ started playing. rafe hummed, leaning down so you could hear him. “you know i had to bring you, baby.. what do you say you thank me another way when we get back to our room?” your cheeks heated as you laughed softly.

“yeah, i’d like that,” you pecked his cheek, “how about we do the position she does for the song?” rafe smiled, both of you fixing your attention on the stage. you waited with anticipation, your heart beating in your ears when she bent over and touched her toes. rafe cheered, making you laugh as he couldn’t wait to get you back to the hotel. luckily for him, there was only a few more songs left before the show ended and the two of you rushed out of there.

it wasn’t long after you two walked through the door that rafe had your boots thrown in a forgotten corner, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he took you roughly from behind. you struggled to keep your hands placed on your perfectly pedicured toes, your knees threatening to give out from under you while rafe thrusted into you at an unforgiving pace. “holy fuck, you’re taking it so fuckin’ good, gorgeous, ‘might just let you get off your tippy toes and put you on your back instead.”

you cried out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as his pelvis smacked against the back of your ass. “can’t, rafe!” you shrieked, nearly doubling over before your boyfriend reached down and grabbed your arms, holding you by your wrists as you hung helplessly from his grip. he was fucking you stupid, and your lack of thoughts was proof of it. you couldn’t think, the feeling of rafe’s cock stroking that soft gummy spot inside of you made you whimper pathetically.

finally, you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, your knees meeting the carpeted floor. rafe picked you up, cursing under his breath as he encouraged you to get back in position. “promise i’ll have you in bed soon, pretty, you could hold out for me, yeah?” you shuddered, looking at him from behind your shoulder with that fucked-out gaze he loved so much. you had tears in your eyes, your body glitter still sparkling under the soft lighting.

giving him a little nod, you reached down once again, holding onto your ankles for dear life as rafe circled an arm under your hips, holding you up as his fingers started working on your clit. “oh!” you were in hysterics, your blood rushing to your head as he landed a harsh smack to your backside. “come on, baby, ‘wanna feel this pussy squeeze around me.” you moaned at his words, your orgasm just in arm’s reach as rafe’s thrusts grew uncalculated. “rafe?” you could barely speak, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“talk to me.” he groaned, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. “make me juno?” you giggled for a split second, the insinuation only turning rafe on even more. “fuck, yeah? ‘want me to fill you up, give you a baby?” you let out a distorted “mhmm!’, the two of you gasping when your highs took you both to cloud nine. rafe pulled you back up, your chest rising and falling while your legs shook with your orgasm. pressing wet kisses to your neck, rafe did exactly as he said, his hips stuttering as hot, thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls.

you two stayed like this, pressed against one another until your breathing slowed, the aftershocks subsiding before rafe laid you both down in bed. “we should have a ‘short n’ sweet’ themed baby shower.. we could serve espressos.” rafe laughed, draping an arm over your tummy. “we’ll see.” he hummed. your eyes fluttered shut as you breathed him in, his cologne still heavy on his skin. “you know what we should try when we get back home?” rafe traced shapes into your side, mumbling a ‘what’s that?’

“pink fuzzy handcuffs.”

[sh1-n0bu]

i have noticed a small pattern of elves being on my latest fictional character obsessions and HEAR ME OUT!!

elf who has lived for hundreds upon thousands of years, who had experienced many of the things the world has to offer. sadness of bidding hundreds of farewells to the beauty of life and alliance of different races

elf who even after all his years of living still yet to find a love for himself. regal and seemingly detached to the concepts of relationships elves may be, even they get lonely. some nights feeling a little bit too long, a little bit too cold as they add another layer of blanket over themselves or reaching over to hug one of his puffy pillows like how he would hug his future lover. the coldness of being immortal seeping into his bones and making him shiver despite elves being above the concept of getting sick or feeling the cold temperatures

elf who runs into you by some chance meeting. maybe you were walking in the territory of elves without knowing it, maybe he purposely goes to human residences and towns, seeking adventure, excitement and change of pace. who immediately is enamored by you just by your smile that you flash his way, a kind one, a gentle one, to a nearby passenger. who falls in love with the callouses of your hand, the freckles, the small scars, the little bits of imperfection that marked you as clearly human, very much mortal, very much brittle but still with your own strength that he hasn’t felt before

elf bf who starts to court you the moment he realizes that you weren’t seeing anyone, bringing small gifts, exchanging knowledge, singing you soft ancient lullabies that no other mortal has ever heard before. maybe he finds himself writing a poem about you one day, describing your looks, your feelings, your everyday actions that you may see as mundane but ones he sees as just as courageous and beautiful in their own ways

elf bf who has never seen human flesh or bare skin before, finding the rippling biceps and toned legs of yours to be… curious. a tentative finger touching the muscles here and there, stopping you mid work as he inquires about them in a soft tone. elves of course were magical beings, blessed with magic and eternity and had no need to develop visible physical muscles till the point they become buff or beefy to some extent all due to their magic and ancient powers. the tips of his pointy ear twitching softly, eyes wide in wonder as you explain that contrary to his kin, your own develop muscles if they are put to work in physically demanding job for enough time

elf bf who over time, finds himself obsessively scribbling down any sort of new information about human anatomy on a journal, always asking you new things as he finds himself able to learn more despite having been alive for hundreds upon thousands of years. tracing the old faded scars on your body with the tip of his finger, counting the freckles, kissing the stretch marks as they were all you. regardless of how you see it, to him it was all you, together and healthy. you were alive even if you may have battle scars and he always makes sure to thank the stars as it was thanks to the tribulations you have conquered that you two were here now. staring eye to eye, touching your foreheads together as you whisper about mundane things

elf bf who one day sees you cut down a tree, cut a log off or prepare firewood and finds that he was imagining the bulge of your muscles against himself. big arms caging him in a bear hug, legs to support him and strong back that he could sink his nails into as he moans under you— hold. since when has his thoughts of you turned… impure? since when has he become turned on? sitting there on one of the logs with a painful strain against his pants as he swallowed the saliva that gathered in his jaw down, tearing his gaze away. no no, he really shouldn’t think of you as such, you were still in courting phase after all and elves were a race that took their romances and courting extremely important

yet regardless of his kin’s customs and traditions, your pretty elf bf couldn’t help but continue to stare. his gaze constantly seeking your figure out, seeing you just go through the motions of every life peacefully while he gets pathetically turned on by your actions as if he was still but a fledgling who learned of a kiss. chopping down trees for firewood, maybe you would work in front of a fire or heat for too long and get sweaty, removing one of the overtunics. maybe you’re just simply dragging a bucket full of water from the well, cranking the pulley as the muscles on your arms and back strained

elf bf who finds himself extremely aroused as his mind wanders to the gutters as he just shamelessly stares at your working form. oh, to feel those calloused hands touch his colder skin, palms smoothening over his creamy skin, and down his chest, his stomach and over his bulge. maybe you would tease the poor thing, tease him of how quick he is to get aroused, the pre of his half-hard cock weeping through his underwear and pants like he was some sore pathetic loser. a little virgin. bully him about being unable to use his cock, make him whine at your mean words as his hips weakly buckle under your exploratory hands

elf bf who couldn’t help but imagine the usual sweetness of your attitude gone, replaced by one that was just a tad bit meaner as you pushes his face down into the pillows of your bed, force his hands to stretch open his puckering hole for you to fuck senselessly. imagining you whispering all sorts of filth into his twitching ears, promising to breed him full, to use him to your heart’s content all night long as he whines and squeals like a little lamb caught in the nest of a hungry wolf. who couldn’t swallow down the quiet whimper coming from his throat as he imagined your hand grasping at his long locks, fisting it tightly as you yank him back, forcing him to arch his back and push the tip of your cock to bruise his guts even more

elf bf who waves off your worry when you had managed to hear the embarrassing noise that slipped past his lips, saying that he was having a bit of a sore throat. gods, he would love to actually whimper from having a sore throat of getting his mouth plowed all day by your fat cock head forcing his jaws wiiideee open

elf bf who couldn’t help but get a little needy in his kisses since then. hands that touched your muscles with curiosity now running over your skin as if trying to feebly seduce you. dropping things to the ground a bit too many times, following you close behind even as you told him that some of the work you needed to do required space and for him to be away for his own safety. who straddles your lap all snug, pushing his chest flush against your own as your simply daily evening kisses after dinner becomes a bit too heated. he definitely had little to no experience with the way his tongue kept licking at your lips meagerly, long fingers curling over your shoulders tightly while his bucking hips on your lap as he starts to get hard again

elf bf who has finally had enough of just his meager imaginations, tugging on the strings of your white tunic with shaky hands as he rambles about touching you, you touching him, feeling him, using him — anything dammit! use those hands of yours on him!

elf bf who soon realizes that he had perhaps bitten off more than he could chew when your hands grip at his hips, dragging his clothed cock against your thigh that had him whining like a cat in heat. meagerly, he tries to replicate what you just made him do, dragging his hips back and forth on your thigh but he all but just looks like an inexperienced bunny. which he probably was judging by the things he spoke to you about himself

elf bf who finds so much pleasure in simply grinding against your thigh for now, the precum of his now hard cock weeping through his pants, staining it into a darker color. all cute and red in the face that spread to his pointy ears, cute high pitched whines falling from his chewed up pink lips. a cute, surprised “a-aahn♡︎??” echoing in the room as you pull his eager body against your own. your chest to his back, hands loosely draped over the hip bone of his

elf bf who lets out the most embarrassing high pitched squeals when your hands travel up his body under his clothes, traveling more and more until teasing at his nipples. rolling your fingertips against the soft areola, squeezing and fondling his pecks as if they were breasts. who jolts in place when you pinch at the hardened buds, tugging at them to test the waters as he arches his back off of your chest, a filthy mewl falling as if he was being fucked stupid already

elf bf who blubbers out uncharacteristic words of “s-shensiitiivgh♡︎ n-no, don’t pinch the-eeengk♡︎♡︎!“ his pleads of your rough hands not torturing his sensitive nipples being replaced with an open mouthed wail when you place a kiss to the pointy tip of his ear. his ears were so sensitive! you knew that and now you were just being downright mean to him as you whisper filth into his ears of acting like a cooped up virgin for merely getting his chest played with. he wasn’t! he was way older than you! slurring out “how c-could you be sooh m-meanngk…♡︎?” as you lick a slow stripe up the pointy helix

elf bf who bucks his hips on your thigh, trying to bounce, trying to move away but ending up whining as his clothed cock grazes against your hardened muscles again. his cute nipples being tortured and groped by your hands, the delicate helix of his ears being assaulted by your wet kisses and licks. any time your hot breath spoke into his ears of how he was such a precious little thing, just like a bunny in heat, he would try to wiggle away. shaking his head with a weak sniffle, his mind churning into a mush as all he could do was to pathetically fuck his cock into your thigh, letting out a soft mewl everytime you buck your leg up to meet his shy excuse of thrusts, jumping in place

elf bf whose minds and body starts to feel weird. the room feeling stifling and your touch making his own skin heat up too much. who tries to tell you that he was feeling ‘odd’ and concerned, yet only to harshly thrust his hips back into your own arousal. eyes widening, a shudder running down his spine at the feeling. still clothed and hidden like his own but good grief, it just felt… so huge since he was sure your human dick couldn’t possibly be much bigger than his own. but no, it got him gulping down the saliva in his mouth

elf bf who bounces himself experimentally onto your own hardened, covered dick, feeling his balls brush against where he guesses is the tip of your strap. his earlier cute whines growing in volume as your torture of his sensitive spots grow worse, groping, squeezing, calling him too eager to get fucked, making him dumb and airheaded. the constant tugs to his chest, the words you spat into his mind so lovingly and the small actions of your hips thrusting up to meet his own weaker excuse of grinding

elf bf who’s voice grow more and more breathier, who finally loses it as he throws himself back against your chest, his head on your shoulder as he let out a wail of “h-hoowt!! t-too ahgg♡︎ haah anhg t-too hoounwt...♥︎!” as he cums into his pants, dirtying the material as a single glob or two of his sweet transparent arousal oozes out through the linen. the dark patch growing into a considerable size, his body racked with twitches and jolts as he cums untouched on your lap. precious little thing getting drunk on the feeling of sex and physical pleasure so much till the point he disregards all of his traditions, bending himself over onto the bed, his hand reaching back to tug you forward by the belt with a desperate whine and a cute blown wide pupils and twitching ears♡︎

⇨ meludir, lindir, legolas, maglor, mairon + whoever you like

[princessbrunette]

hiii princess i hope you can find inspiration in this one :)

bunny!reader getting all wet and horny after she gets all cocky and can think she can arm wrestle him. him winning so easily is hot and he notices she likes it and starts teasing her and fucks her

-👛

the best time to get silly with rafe would be after he smokes, which is why he has no problem stubbing out his joint with a smirk when you scooch up infront of him all giggly asking “rafey can we arm wrestle?”

“you really think that’s wise?” the smirk carries into his tone of voice as he adjusts himself in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, arms folded casually over himself.

“i just think i can beat you.” you tilt your head mischievously, suppressing your laugh as he stares you down.

“oh really? alright…” he sits forward, seemingly going with the joke in good nature. rafe licks his lips, and positions his elbow on the small table between you, lightly slapping his bicep twice in gesture. “lets uh… let’s see it then.”

you feel all girlish and shy when you place your smaller, manicured hand into his larger, manlier one. he gets to adjusting the stance of your elbow, muttering something about not wanting to ‘break your damn arm’, before gripping your hand readily.

“‘kay, three two one, go.” you sing, grinning before putting all of your strength into trying to pin his arm down. unsurprisingly, his arm doesn’t move.

“are you actually trying?” he drawls, cocky as ever. you grit your teeth, throwing your weight more into your arm as you struggle in your seat. he’s not making any effort to pin you down, but not making any effort to hold you back either.

“s’not fair.” you strain, and he huffs out a quiet laugh before gently bringing your arm down— beating you. “lemme use my other arm.”

after three solid attempts, you’re pouting and your arm is sore — but you can’t help but feel effected by his casual display of strength. as you stare him down, all sulky and needy — he’s reclining in his seat, satisfied.

“you finished?” he sarks, not particularly expecting an answer. gently you scooch over, hand resting on his belt — and no words are needed once you look up at him. “yeah? it’s want want want with you, huh?” he complains, but slowly, he begins to undo his belt with one hand. the nonchalant skilfulness has you tightening your thighs together. “so what do you want? specifically?” he tries to sound bored, but you can already tell he’s hardening in his boxers.

“wanna suck it.” you mewl quietly, no louder than needed for him to hear you. he scoffs, standing above you to pull his belt from its loops all together.

“alright well uh— i’ll do you one better. why don’t you run along and grab that plug you’re so obsessed with and bend over for me. i got time today, so you’re getting double stuffed.”

[kateschi]

surprise delivery: husband edition!

synopsis: when you're just chilling after a rough mission, your husband makes an appearance to make your day better.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the day is brutal. patrols, villain takedowns, and media interviews—being a pro-hero means long hours with little time to breathe.

as you finally step into your shared apartment, all you want is to crash on the couch and shut out the world for a while. the second you close the door behind you, your hero jacket hits the floor with a thud.

just as you start making your way to the kitchen, the front door swings open, and in walks bakugou katsuki, your husband, still in his full hero gear.

his mask is off, revealing that ever-present scowl, though you can tell by the slight sag in his shoulders that he’s had a long day too.

"hey," he grunts as he kicks the door shut behind him, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you. in his hand is a plastic bag, the familiar sound of crinkling bringing a small smile to your lips.

"katsuki," you greet, raising an eyebrow. "didn’t expect you back so early. thought you were still on patrol."

he throws the bag onto the kitchen counter with a huff. "got a break. figured I’d check in on you. heard your last fight was a pain in the ass."

you smile despite yourself. "it was fine. nothing I couldn’t handle."

he shoots you a look, his eyes narrowing. "yeah, yeah. you say that every damn time, but you look like you’ve been through hell."

"you’re one to talk," you shoot back, gesturing toward his own disheveled appearance.

his hero suit is scuffed, his gauntlets still covered in dust from whatever explosion-filled chaos he’s left behind. "looks like you weren’t exactly on a peaceful walk yourself."

"I handled it just fine," he says, waving off your concern. "anyway, shut up and look in the bag."

amused, you walk over to the kitchen and peek inside. to your surprise, it’s packed with your favorite snacks—energy bars, flavored drinks, and even a bag of those chips you always crave after a tough day.

you pull one out, giving him a teasing look. "you got this for me?"

he crosses his arms, looking away with a grunt. "don’t get all mushy on me. you’re not invincible, and I’m not gonna let you crash and burn because you’re too stubborn to take a break."

your heart warms at his blunt words. it’s such a katsuki thing to do—care deeply but cover it with his tough, no-nonsense attitude. "thanks," you say softly, popping open a drink. "I needed this."

he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his cheeks tainted a barely noticeable pink, "damn right you did."

you both lean against the kitchen counter, sharing a quiet moment as you sip your drink. the silence isn’t awkward—after years of working as pro-heroes and being married, you’ve grown comfortable in these rare moments of peace together.

still, the concern for each other is ever-present, unspoken yet deeply felt.

"how’s your arm?" katsuki asks suddenly, his sharp eyes scanning over you. you look down, realizing he’s talking about the burn you got in your last battle.

"it’s nothing," you reply, brushing it off. "just a scratch."

"bullshit," he mutters, stepping closer and taking your wrist gently, though his grip is firm. he inspects the burn with a scowl, clearly not pleased. "you’ve gotta be more careful."

you smile up at him. "and you’ve gotta stop blowing up everything in your path. not everyone can walk away unscathed like you, mr. dynamight."

he grunts, letting go of your wrist. "I’m not the one who got singed." his brow furrows slightly, a rare moment of softness crossing his features. "you know I hate seeing you hurt."

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a second, the busy world of pro-hero work melts away. in moments like this, it’s easy to forget how explosive and brash he usually is.

beneath all of it, he’s someone who cares deeply for you, even if he has a funny way of showing it.

"I know," you say gently. "but I can handle it."

he scoffs but doesn’t argue, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. "I know you can."

just as you’re about to make another playful comment, his phone buzzes, breaking the peaceful moment. katsuki glances at it, his expression darkening in annoyance.

"damn it. I’ve gotta head back."

your heart sinks a little, though you know this is just the reality of being heroes—time together is always cut short. "already?"

"yeah," he mutters, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "heroes don’t get long breaks." he hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking back to you. "but listen, don’t go out on any more patrols tonight. you’ve done enough. rest."

you raise an eyebrow. "you know I don’t need you babying me, right?"

"yeah, well, too bad," he shoots back with a smirk, pulling you closer by the waist. "I’m your damn husband, and I say you’re staying home."

you roll your eyes, leaning into his chest. "bossy."

"it’s for your own good, y/n; you know that," he mutters, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "so, take a break. eat the snacks. watch some tv, I don’t care. just… don’t go bein’ reckless while I’m not around."

you smile, warmed by the concern under his rough words. "fine. but don’t come back looking like you’ve been through a war zone, okay? I’d like my husband in one piece."

he smirks, his signature cocky grin spreading across his face. "please. it’ll take more than a couple of lowlife villains to take me down."

with that, he steps away, grabbing his gauntlets and heading toward the door. but just before he leaves, he turns back, his voice softer but still carrying that familiar bite. "save me some of those snacks, yeah?"

you chuckle, nodding. "yeah, yeah. go be a hero."

he huffs, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "try not to miss me too much."

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[luv4freddie]

Fools - T.N

in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.

fem!hufflepuff reader, bff Pansy, use of euphemisms and teasing yn for being innocent but sfw, reader is very emotional, jealous theo, 2800 words

"Y/n!!"

After a year, you'd think that people would get used to seeing the same Hufflepuff go over to the Slytherin table, but alas, half the Great Hall turned to watch you approach the table and take a seat next to Pansy.

She sticks her middle finger up behind your back, aiming it at all of the people who are still staring, and they quickly turn away. It was an unlikely friendship, but she was not going to let anyone make you feel bad about it.

"About time you get here," Draco huffs, "I've had to hear Pansy's 'girl talk' while you were sleeping."

You smile sheepishly at him, you had taken your sweet time this morning, hitting snooze a few times before listening to your favorite record and doing more singing than actually getting ready— resulting in you being extra late to breakfast.

"Sorry, Draco."

"Don't apologize yn, he doesn't deserve it."

You can hear the teasing lilt in Theo's voice from across the table, and Draco throws a handful of grapes at him.

"Whatever," Pansy turns her back to them, "did you hear, apparently the Hufflepuff chaser has a crush on you."

Your eyes flit between her face and your hands, and you wonder where she got her information from.

The boys around you seem to perk up at this, and Draco chides Pansy for deeming that piece of information unimportant compared to all her other, much more useless, girl talk this morning.

"Where on Earth did you hear that?" You cut in, not enjoying the way everyone is suddenly interested in your (nonexistent) love life.

"From a very trustworthy source," is all she'll give away, and you cringe.

"Can we change subjects, please?"

Theo narrows his eyes at you, as if he's searching your face for something.

"You don't care about it then? You're not jumping at the chance to ride his broom?"

The Slytherins around you snicker at his euphemism, but you go bright red.

"I- what! Why would you say- no!"

This only makes them laugh harder, but Pansy collects herself enough to place a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Don't worry, we all know our little puff would never."

You slap her hand away, upset at them treating you like a child.

"Well if you guys are only gonna tease me, I'm gonna go back to my own table."

"Y/n, we didn't mean-" Theo starts, but he's still got a smirk on his face, so you ignore him, leaving before he can try and stop you.

You take a seat at your own house table, and the Hufflepuffs around you immediately welcome you into their conversation.

You don't know why it bothered you so much. They were right, you weren't going to be "riding someone's broom" anytime soon, but hearing the way they talked about it— like you were just some silly, innocent baby— really bugged you.

If you were being honest with yourself, you also knew that deep down you've been repressing feelings for Theodore, because you knew enough stories about him to know it would never work. He was a heartthrob, and had no issue finding girls to entertain him at night— to him you were just a little girl. That conversation was just more proof. There's no way he'd be interested in you.

You unintentionally make eye contact with Zacharias Smith when you finally get out of your head, but you immediately look away, turning back to your friends just as Hannah asks about your Christmas plans.

You don't see your Slytherin friends again until Charms class, and Pansy immediately brings up what happened at breakfast.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to feel bad, that's just how we are."

You give her a tight lipped smile, shrugging your shoulders. You've realized that most of the anger came from the realization that Theo probably saw you as a child, not actually their teasing.

"No biggie, it's forgiven."

She eyes you suspiciously but decides not to question it, instead starting to talk about her next party idea until she gets shushed when Professor Flitwick starts explaining directions.

You use the quiet moment to sneak a look at Theo, who's leaned back in his chair smirking at something Draco said next to him.

Pansy turns to you and you quickly shift your focus, but it appears she's already seen you. She gives you a raised eyebrow, and you play dumb, looking back at the teapot on your desk and trying to give it legs.

"What was that about back there?" Pansy asks as the two of you walk out together.

"I know it took me forever to get those stupid legs," you cringe, hoping to throw her off course.

"No I meant your staring."

You try not to look guilty, just shrugging your shoulders and explaining, "figured the boys might have figured it out faster. Should have known better."

She grins at that, muttering "you really should have." But something tells you she doesn't quite believe your story.

Your thoughts are only confirmed the next day when she invites you over to her dorm and then immediately suggests the two of you take veritaserum to play a game of truth or dare.

You let out a sigh.

"I'm not doing that Pans, just ask me whatever you want to know."

She grins, "you know me so well."

"Unfortunately," you tease, and she slaps your arm but asks her question anyway.

"Do you have a crush on Draco?"

Her face drops into confusion when you start laughing hysterically.

"That's what you thought? Merlin, you had me scared for no reason. No Pans, I absolutely do not have a crush on Draco."

She lets out a small sigh of relief, but you can tell she's a little peeved you laughed at her.

"Well what was I supposed to think? You got all grumpy yesterday when we were teasing you about your love life, and then the staring. It was either that or you're secretly in love with Nott, which, lets be for real."

She leaves it at that, but your cheeks flush pink. Be for real what? Be for real, he'd never want you? Be for real, what universe would the two of you work out? Be for real, he hates you?

The thoughts keep coming one after another, and suddenly your vision is blurred.

"Hey, woah, what's wrong?"

You cursed Pansy for being so observant.

"Nothing, I think my allergies are acting up." You say, but there's sadness in your voice, and there's an inch of snow outside, which isn't exactly pollen friendly.

"Don't lie to me y/n."

"I'm sorry for being so stupid and emotional." You cry, and Pansy rubs your back slowly.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being emotional! You don't see us do it much, but a lot of that's got to do with how we were raised. I wish I felt things as deeply as you do."

Your tears seem to slow, and she smiles.

"Now as for stupid, that depends on where that fit came from."

You look up at her in embarrassment, more hot tears threatening to fill your eyes.

"I... what did you mean?" You ask instead.

"Huh?"

"When you said be for real about me secretly being.." you couldn't bring yourself to say it, as if saying the words would make it true and something you could no longer push away and pretend wasn't there.

Realization dawns on Pansy's face, and she immediately wraps you up in a hug.

"Oh yn, it all makes sense now."

You continue to cry, and she looks at you with what you assume is pity in her eyes.

"I know, I'm such a fool! I know it would never happen, I know half of Hogwarts has a crush on him, I know he'd never want a girl like me." All of the things you'd been keeping to yourself and secretly thinking come spilling out of your mouth, and Pansy rubs your back while you continue to cry.

"Hey don't talk like that! Theo doesn't care about those people, and I know he cares about you. Not to mention, "a girl like you"? You're the exact type of girl that Theo needs. He practically never smiles the way he does when you're around. Just calm down okay?"

You nod through your cries, finally settling down as Pansy throws a magazine at you and the two of you lay across her bed.

Unknowingly, you end up falling asleep, tired from the amount of crying you did. Pansy notices but decides not to wake you, heading down to the common room where the guys would be getting back from quidditch practice soon.

When you wake up the room is dark, and a quick looks around reminds you you're in Pansy's room and not your own. You check the bathroom attached to the dorm, and when no one is in there you head down to the common room, assuming that's where she's gone to.

The whole group is sat on leather couches and armchairs when you make it down the stairs, and you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you approach the group.

"There's our bella addormentata," Theodore purrs, and you immediately flush even though you only understand half of his phrase. (sleeping beauty)

"Sorry for falling asleep." You apologize as you take the seat Pansy offered you, coincidentally landing between her and the reason for your crying.

"Stop apologizing so much," Theo whispers in your ear, and you refuse to look at him in fear of him seeing exactly the effect he has on you. Instead you continue to look at Pansy.

"No biggie, you needed it after that." She says, and you nod.

"After what? What happened?" Draco asked, ever the nosy weasel.

Pansy looked at you, obviously waiting for you to answer so she could go along with whatever you say.

You consider lying, but figure there's no point. They all know you're an emotional person, no one would find it unusual.

"I- uh- cried a little bit. Tired me out."

The boys (that you can see) all nod their heads in understanding and decide to switch topics, finally letting you relax.

However, since you'd turned your back to Theo, that now meant when you leaned back to get comfy you leaned directly into his chest, as he had one arm on the back of the couch behind you.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You whisper, shooting back up and speaking only to him in an attempt to not draw attention from the others.

"Don't be silly," he says back, pulling your shoulders so you're back in the relaxed position against him, "you're welcome in my arms any day ragazza dolce." (Sweet girl)

You flush red again, but this time you do look up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

"You know I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, right?"

He grins, "that's part of the fun."

"Whatever," you turn back away from him to look at the group, your head resting right over his heart, "as long as you're not calling me a troll."

"I promise I'm not." He says, ruffling your hair before the both of you rejoin the main conversation.

"Zacharias Smith was at our practice today," Draco tells Pansy, and she looks at him in surprise.

"Really? Maybe he was looking for yn. She does sometimes keep me company in the stands."

"Oh he definitely was." Blaise smirks, and you feel Theo tense behind you. "Walked right up to Theo and asked where the pretty little one we're always hanging out with was."

"What?" Pansy shrieks, looking over, although you're unsure if the intentional target was you or the boy behind you. Her eyes momentarily widen at seeing your position before she notices something and smirks.

"Theo," she drawls, "I didn't notice those cuts on your knuckles earlier, is that new?"

Everyone turns to look at Theo, and you sit up in alarm, turning to look at his hand that's laying behind your spot on the couch.

"Theo! What happened? Why didn't you go get this checked out?"

He averts his eyes from your gaze. "Just wasn't thinking about it," he shrugs.

You frown. "How could you not be thinking about it, that looks painful!"

He shrugs again, grimacing when you grab his hand, insisting he let you heal it.

"Just let me go get my wand okay? I left it in Pansy's room."

You get up to leave, and with your back turned you don't see Pansy whisper to Theo and then him get up and follow you.

"I'll just come with." He announces, following you back to your friends room.

You try not to think about the intimacy of being alone with Theo while you tend to his wounds, trying once again to shove all your feelings down far in your heart.

Thankfully none of Pansy's roommates had come back, and Theo sits on her bed while you grab your wand from her nightstand before standing in between his spread legs.

"Give me your hand."

He complies, and you try not to blush at the warmth of his, much bigger, hand resting on your own.

"This is nasty Theo, did you punch a wall or something?" You ask, beginning to heal a few of the cuts. Luckily most of them were clean from where he'd washed them when he showered after practice, but they were scabbed over and his knuckles were blue with beginning to form bruises.

He lets out an amused huff of laughter and you stop your ministrations, looking up at him immediately.

"Tell me you didn't actually punch a wall."

He shrugs, "it was either that or Smith, and I know you don't like when I get into fights."

You feel yourself heat up. He didn't hit someone because of your preference, and the person just happened to be the guy who supposedly has a crush on you.

"Well I'm glad you didn't send my housemate to the hospital wing at least, although I wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself," you sigh, continuing to heal his hands.

Out of nowhere he pulls it away.

"Theo?"

"Look, I-" he cards a hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. "I didn't like it that Smith came looking for you. Especially that he asked me."

You look at him in confusion, "what? Why?"

He looks distraught, but he can't help the crooked smile that etches itself on his face.

"You're damn oblivious, you know that?"

You continue to look at him, no thoughts behind your eyes.

"Uh, I mean I guess? I've been told that a few times, though I'm not sure how it's pertinent to this situation."

Suddenly Theo's hands are on your cheeks, and his face is inches from your own.

"What- what are you doing?"

"I want to kiss you." He states plainly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world— as if the five words didn't have you spiraling out of control.

"Wait- do you want to kiss me because you think I'm like pretty or do you want to kiss me because you like me?"

You'd never even thought he would consider you pretty, but at his words you had to rethink a lot of things you thought you knew.

"I like you, amorina." (Little love)

"Really?" You know you should be celebrating, but you can't help the doubt that creeps into your mind. "You don't think I'm a silly, innocent, little Hufflepuff?"

He grins, "you can be my silly little Hufflepuff. And no I don't care that you're not jumping at the opportunity to go broom hopping."

You can't help but laugh a his phrasing, but you're glad he knew what you meant.

"I like you, amorina, I don't care about anything else, as long as I get you."

You smile, and Theo swears he could die happy if it's the last thing he sees.

"Well in that case, I want you to kiss me too."

He can barely hold back his own smile as he places his lips on yours, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other holds your hip.

He kissed you gently, not at all like what you'd expected, but you feel his adoration flowing out of it, and you can't help but break it to let out a giggle.

"And to think I was crying over you a few hours ago."

He grins, standing up and grabbing your hand to walk back down to the common room together, where your friends were waiting for you to go to dinner.

"No more crying over me okay?"

You nod your head, and he pulls you in for one more kiss before you rejoin the rest of your friends.