#hunger games x ps reader

[casualhedonists]

“slut!” ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

pairing: academy!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: nsfw (18+), sub! and possibly virgin!coryo, handjobs, edging/orgasm denial, degradation, name calling (reader calls coryo a slut) very mild dacryphilia, also v mild corruption kink, overstimulation, also reader gets coryo to taste his own cum idk what else to call it <3

a/n: thought abt calling coryo a slut and this happened <3 i have nothing else to say for myself

“Slut.”

The word slipped from your lips, smooth like honey.

“What?” His eyes darted to yours. Your hand, nestled in his pants, slowed its movements, and his lips parted in a plea.

“You heard me, Coryo. I said you’re a slut.”

You didn’t miss the ragged breath of air that he exhaled, or the twitch of his cock as you stilled your hand entirely. He whimpered, red faced in shame.

Poor thing. Poor, desperate Coriolanus Snow.

“Who’d have thought? The academy’s brightest star, the golden pupil, putting out on the first date.”

His eyes squeezed closed. You hummed.

“What did we say about that? Eyes on me.”

He obliged.

“This is a date?” He breathed after a beat, brain playing catchup.

“It’s whatever you want it to be, handsome.”

Your hand moved faster as you saw him get more comfortable with the pace; you couldn’t be having that. Not when he’d started to pick up a very vexing little habit of deliberately contradicting any point you made in rhetoric class, glancing over at you with a self-congratulatory grin that had you aching to make him cry.

You'd asked him over to study, which he'd almost fallen for. Led him to your couch, made him believe you'd let him take whatever he wanted, then flipped the tables.

“That feel good? Is it too much?”

“Mm.” Was all you got out of him as you picked the pace up, thumb pushing over the tip.

“So wet for me, Coryo. Like a fucking girl.”

“Don’t-"

“Oh? So you want me to stop? Okay.”

Your hand stilled again, moving your hand as if to take it out of his pants.

“No. What? Don’t… don’t stop. Keep going.”

“You know, nobody’s gonna believe you’re as well-bred as you claim you are with manners like those.”

You'd overheard Highbottom's taunts once. Kept it to yourself, but made the occasional low blow of your own when he pissed you off. His eyes shone in an angry defiance. You stood your ground.

“Please.” He looked at the floor.

“Please what?”

“Please, keep going.”

You smiled.

“Good boy.”

When you spoke the words, he visibly relaxed, but a frown etched across his face when you wrapped your hand back around his cock, but didn’t move it. He looked down, then back at you.

“What?” You blinked innocently.

“You’re not… please. Don’t be fucking mean.” He repeated pathetically.

“I don’t know, Coryo. My hand’s getting a little tired.”

“Because you’ve been edging me for half an hour.” He gritted. You laughed, cruel.

“So dramatic. If you’re gonna be ungrateful like that, then fine. I won’t move a muscle.”

He sighed, ragged and heavy. He didn’t move.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy now. All I’m asking for is a little bit of effort. Fuck my hand, Coryo. You can do that, can’t you?”

His blue eyes bored into yours, but you weren’t falling for his tricks. Your free hand gently turned his chin to you, and you moved in, soft kisses peppering his jaw.

You squeezed the base of his cock a little, enough to make him pull in a sharp breath.

“Move.” you commanded, voice no louder than a whisper, but harsh.

He obliged. Slowly, at first, shame all too clear on his face, but he noticed the look on your face when you glanced down to see his hips rocking up, fucking into your fist under his pants, and lost himself a little more.

He saw the way your legs pressed together sat next to him, hips shifting uncomfortably as he found a rhythm, and lifted his hand to touch your thigh. You batted it away.

“No touching.” you scolded.

“But…” he trailed off, eyes longing.

How cute.

“No buts, either. Are you close?”

He nodded. Shame slowly starting to melt away.

“Good. You can move faster, Coryo. Can you make yourself cum like this?”

He moved faster, and let out a half-laugh, more like a strung-out sigh. As if to say, are you kidding?

“Does that feel good? Use your words, baby.”

You felt him twitch again, wet sounds filling the room as he moved, a cruel satisfaction filling your head.

“Yeah. It feels... fuck.”

“Look at you,” You mused, “Fucking my hand like a desperate slut. You’re this close and I’m not even doing anything.”

This time, when you said the word, he whined. He sounded delirious, and you soaked it up, basked in it. Hungry for more.

He was getting desperate now, needy and careless. Rutting into your hand like a fucking virgin.

You wondered if he was, and it made your torturing him all the sweeter. You let your mind wander, thinking about all the things you could introduce him to. So perfect, so clean cut. You wanted him frayed at the edges, torn at the seams, coming undone for you.

He got loud, whimpers building into cries as you started to move your hand again, tight and mean, brushing over the tip carelessly rough, desperate to see him fall apart. His words were broken and ragged.

“That’s… shit. I think I - can I? Please. I’m-”

He cut himself off, mouth falling open, eyes slipping shut in bliss. You could feel how close he was, hard and heavy in your hand. When his hips gave in, stuttering and tired, you sped up your motions, eyes never leaving his pretty face as he started to crack.

“Cum for me, Coryo. You’ve earned it.”

When he fell, he fell to pieces. You memorised each broken sound he made, every whine and gasp, knowing they’d be replaying in your head for a very long time to come. He came hot and sticky into your palm, and you kept your hand moving until he was trembling from it, until he winced.

You looked back at his face, eyes still shut, and a single tear had slid down his cheek. You pressed a gentle kiss to his open lips, and another to his cheek, tongue dipping out reflexively to trace the tear stain, salty in your mouth but sweet like satisfaction.

He was still catching his breath, and you shifted your hand out of his pants, smirking to yourself as he hissed a little.

You lifted it to his face, your clean hand holding his chin, and the other one bringing two dripping fingers to his perfect, parted lips.

“Now suck.”

a/n: idk WHO to tag since this is my first coryo fic i’ve posted since attention?? and my tag list is just for attention rn? think i need to do a few separate ones, we’ll figure something out. as always feedback keeps my world spinning around. ily 🤍🤍

[ilguna]

☼ breathtaking pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; you thought that you were going to go into the arena without ever meeting your soulmate. little did you know, he's been next to you the whole time.

warnings; swearing

wc; 3.5k

part two.

–

The worst part about the announcement of the Quarter Quell was by far the amount of questions you were asked about it afterwards. In the months leading up to the reaping, all you kept being asked was, “How do you feel?”

In the beginning, you would just stare at them for a second, hoping that they’d realize how stupid they are for asking it in the first place. How do they think you feel? While they’re all grown and get to live the rest of their lives without worrying about dying, you’re having your rights taken away from you yet again.

You aren’t supposed to do this again. Everyone was promised that once they win, they are done with the Hunger Games. They were no longer eligible to go inside, the only time you’d come close would be during mentoring. You’d get to live that week in the Capitol over and over and over again, watching different tributes get reaped, and then die in the arena.

As the reaping drew closer, the question died in their throats. The idea of reminding you about your potential fate made them uncomfortable. They never considered the idea of how irritating it was to answer the question every day of the week and then for it to slowly fizzle out.

You could handle the odds of going back into the arena. With only four girls in District Five, there was a twenty-five percent chance that the name pulled out of the bowl would be yours. It bothered the other girls, but you knew you had to let it go if you wanted to be even remotely happy for what could be your last weeks in your home.

Actually, the part that upsets you the most is the fact you’ll never get to see the world in color, because you haven’t met your soulmate yet. You’ll never get to see the sky, or the trees, or the color of the clothes you wear everyday. All the features that make someone who they are is absent in your sight. You’re left with black, white, and grey.

You thought that you would have years to try and find them. You’re only in your twenties. You were supposed to take over mentoring, which would’ve allowed you to get a better chance at finding your soulmate. 

It was ruined as soon as your name was the one drawn out of the bowl. You felt your heart sink into your stomach, because you weren’t stupid enough to think anyone would volunteer for you. The sighs of relief that came from the other girls was salt in the wound.

For a few hours, you were stupid enough to hope that you’d win, until you saw exactly who was drawn this year. It ended up being the last nail on the coffin. You are going to die inside of the arena, you’re sure of it. That’s why you haven’t taken a single thing seriously this past week.

Why does it matter? Why would sponsors matter? They don’t want you, they want the siblings, they want the volunteers, they want their darlings, and they want the newest trouble. You are just a minor victor in the crowd.

When you were telling your stylist about your pessimistic views, all he could say was that they were entirely justified. The Capitol loves their victor’s unfairly, and then it ruins the chances for the rest of you. Anything that would normally catch the attention of the crowd on a regular Hunger Games is useless here. The parade, the scores, the interview you’re about to do. It’s for nothing.

You trace patterns on the bare skin of your thigh, watching as your prep team and stylist move around the room. They’d briefly gathered a few minutes ago to talk, and ever since they’ve been running around pulling things off the shelves in the closet. You’re guessing it’s jewelry.

Your stylist pulls out one of those protective bags for dresses, except this one is bigger and stuffed with fabric. He unzips it to take a look inside, and you can see the smile come across his face. His eyes dart up to yours, looking at you through the mirror.

“(Y/n),” He begins, coming closer, “I’ve been saving this dress for a special occasion, since I will never be able to use it again in any of my work. Tonight, you will be my muse.”

You give him a slight smile, “Are you sure you don’t want to save it for anything else?”

“I’m sure.” He says, unzipping the bag, “I’m aware you can’t see the color, but you should know that it’s not the most important part. It’s the design.”

Together, he and the prep team work to get the dress out of the bag. It’s a light shade of grey, so you’re going to guess that it’s a pastel color. It’s uncommon for stylists to go for something so gentle, because the lights on the stage tend to wash the tributes out. That’s why the colors are bright and hard, so they can pop and shine.

You think that it’s going to be some small dress, but the fabric never stops. There’s so much of it. He tosses the dress bag off to the side, and then unzips the back for you to get into. It takes a minute, they have to adjust and pin the dress where it’s too big or too small. By the end, you can’t even tell that it’s been altered.

One of the prep team members gets to work on fluffing the dress, while the other fixes your hair, and then gets to work on putting the jewelry on you. She focuses on your earrings and the necklaces on your collarbone to make sure they’re positioned perfectly. They get you in heels, and then your stylist shuffles in front of you to settle something on the top of your head.

You’re ordered to close your eyes until you’re in front of the mirror and finishing touches are made. They fix your makeup, and then spray something wet and sweet smelling on your skin. You’re guessing it’s perfume, but as soon as you open your eyes and sway slightly, your skin sparkles.

The dress is floor length, off the shoulder but with long and loose sleeves to keep you from getting cold while waiting for your turn to be interviewed. And the object he snuggled in your hair is a tiny tiara that sparkles with your skin each time you move.

You run your hand over the gorgeous patterned lace, letting out a breath, “What color is it?”

“Pink.” He says, coming over to stand behind you, “A gentle and loving pink, one that resembles innocence and beauty.” He fixes a curl, “It’s light and uplifting, and it looks beautiful on you.”

“Thank you.” You smile.

“You’re good to go out, (Y/n). I believe in you.” He says.

You wander out of the room and down the hall, absently tracing one of the closest flowers while you near the line to the stage. The other victor’s are in varying outfits. This year, District Two is subjected to looking like gladiators, the Ritchson siblings are eye-catching in their sequin outfits. Johanna Mason wears a long dress, but she doesn’t look out of place.

A few eyes land on you as you draw closer, but they don’t linger longer for more than a second. They don’t care, a victor from District Five is anything but a threat to them at this point. You’re sure half of them have already decided how they’re going to get rid of you in the arena. And if they haven’t, it’s because they know they can take you in a fight. There’s no use planning it.

It’s only a few minutes later, when the entire hallway is going completely silent. You look over to see Katniss, dressed in a large wedding dress. You should’ve guessed, that was the whole obsession after their Victory Tour. Of course, her stylist would try one more thing to catch the Capitol’s attention.

“I can’t believe Cinna put you in that thing.” Finnick says, there’s a look of bewilderment on his face.

“He didn’t have any choice. President Snow made him.” Katniss defends.

Cashmere flickers her hair over her shoulder, “Well, you look ridiculous!” She spits, taking Gloss’ hand and walking off with him to stand at the front of the line.

You swallow, closing your eyes. You don’t know how you’re going to survive this, really. You know nothing about any of these people, except for what you’ve seen on the screen. You’re at a severe disadvantage compared to the other female victor’s back home. At least they got to talk to half of these people.

The only two victor’s that feel the same way you do must be Katniss and Peeta, but even they’re fitting in more than you are.

You resist the urge to rub down your face, but you do let out a slight huff. You guess you’ll just have to resort to hiding in the arena, even though you didn’t win through that strategy. You mostly fucked around with trying to set off traps and force the gamemakers to accidentally kill the tributes for you. It worked, it’s why you’re standing here today. 

That’s not going to fly in the arena, though. These people have watched your games, the same way you watched theirs. All strategies are on the table, which means that you’ll need to figure out how to camouflage and hide, immediately. 

Cashmere and Gloss lead the way onto the stage, and one by one, you make your way to the seats at the back of the stage. The audience is loud, cheering and whistling. The lights are blinding, you squint through them, relaxing your face when you’re adjusted to the brightness.

You tuck the dress beneath you before you sit down, as soon as you’re planted in your seat, you can feel the nerves in your stomach settle. You haven’t been on a stage in a few years, you remember hating every minute of it. From the parade, to your face being shown for scores, to all the interviews and speeches you did after you won. You hated every second of it.

Caesar’s hair is a different color, it’s some type of grey, so you’re thinking it’s a muted color. You know that he changes it every year, you wish you could see, because you’re sure he looks fantastic every time. He’s been hosting the Hunger Games for a long, long time. That’s a lot of colors to go through, repeating or not.

He does his usual opening-interview spiel with the audience by cracking a few jokes and getting them in a fun mood. From what you’ve heard from your mentors, the citizens of the Capitol are torn between hating the Quarter Quell and adoring it. It’s clear on why; most of the favorites are here. It’s a shame they don’t know how much power they hold.

Cashmere starts the interviews with a speech on how she’s been crying ever since she was chosen. She’s so heartbroken over the fact that the Capitol is suffering because of how many victor’s they’re losing to the games. Gloss follows up with talking about how they’ve been so kind to them ever since they won, and it’s been a pleasure mentoring since.

Enobaria expresses how sad she is that she won’t be able to experience the Capitol’s wonders, since there’s more to live through. She was hoping to get more body modifications and possibly become one of their featured darlings, or a modeling icon for the people back home. 

Beetee does his intelligent rambling, talking about how the Quarter Quell is technically illegal and it shouldn’t exist in the first place. He asks if the experts—Gamemakers—have considered this and examined it as of late. You watch as Wiress goes up and backs him up calmly, explaining that this isn’t fair.

When Mags takes the stage, it’s filled with Caesar guessing what she’s trying to say, but you can tell that she’s outraged, too. She’s too old for this, and yet she volunteered to come to save a girl she mentored. Finnick talks through a bright smile, and when Caesar asks if he’s got anything to say, his eyes darken. He proceeds to recite a love poem that’s clearly talking about his home district and how he might not get to see it ever again. It’s misinterpreted and too many people in the crowd think it’s aimed at them. 

“For District Five, we have the lovely (Y/n) (L/n)!” Caesar shouts, hand held out in your direction.

You get to your feet with a smile, heading toward the front of the stage. You place your hand in his, he squeezes your knuckles, “Hello, Caesar.”

“Hello!” He laughs, looking over what you’re wearing, “Well, don’t you look pretty! I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like this before on stage.”

“My stylist was saving it for a special day, and that’s tonight, I suppose. I was just as surprised as you are.” You look out to the audience.

“Yes, it has been an interesting night so far.” He agrees, “Tell me, what was going through your mind at the reaping?”

You give a half-shrug, “I was disappointed, if I’m being honest.”

“And why’s that?” He asks.

“Well, I’m sure you can guess.” You shake your head, “I’m sure it’s an honor for some people to be back here again and have the opportunity to compete, but I’m losing out on one of the most important parts about living.”

“Let me guess, getting to mentor tributes?” He smiles.

You shake your head again, “No Caesar, it’s getting to see color.”

There’s enough gasps at once that makes your smile inwardly. You know what the other victor’s are trying to do, so you’ll help them. Even if they don’t invite you into their alliances, you’re with them on this. You don’t want the Quarter Quell to happen. You want to go home. That’s why you’ll expose yourself to the Capitol, because you’ve heard how colorful they are. They’ll eat up the idea of living this long without seeing color, ever.

Caesar gapes for a second, “You haven’t found your soulmate yet?”

You look out, “I will never get to see the Capitol the way the rest of you do. I hear the buildings are brightly colored, I hear how gorgeous the clothes are. And I will never get to experience that, because it’s being taken away from me.”

You can feel the tears build in your eyes. They’re partially real, because all you’ve ever wanted was to see the world the way your parents did. They saw real beauty everywhere they looked, and you saw nothing. And you will see nothing, until the day you die in the arena.

You hard blink to force the tears down your face, throat clogging. You have to play it up for them, otherwise they won’t care. You take a few seconds to dab at the corners of your eyes, with Caesar comforting you. The citizens are eating it up, there’s a few of them crying, you can’t see them past the light in your eyes, but you can hear them out there.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Caesar squeezes your hand.

“I am too.” You sniff, fanning your face, “For what it’s worth, I think the city is beautiful without color, too.”

The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of your interview. There’s shouts complaining over how short it felt. You kiss the tips of your fingers and blow a kiss to the crowd before turning away and walking back to your seat. You struggle to hold in the smile that wants to break over your face.

The next few interviews are just as brutal. Johanna questions whether or not the creators can do anything about it. They never anticipated that the Capitol and the victors would form such a bond. Cecelia does a number by saying goodbye to her kids on camera, which has the whole audience in tears.

Seeder’s calm when she says that Snow is considered powerful. If he is, then certainly he can change the fate of the Quarter Quell, right? Chaff comes in swinging, reciting the same thing as Seeder but enforcing the idea that Snow must not care about the way his people feel.

And then Katniss walks to the front and the audience is in shambles. She’s unable to speak for several minutes, and by the tame she can, she’s speaking about her wedding. How none of them will be able to attend it, now that she’s been reaped for another Hunger Games, but Snow wanted to show them what could’ve happened.

She starts twirling like she did last year, except the minor flames from the year before have turned into large ones. They consume the end of the dress and eat away at the layers, until it reaches her shoulders, and suddenly the flames are gone. You’re left staring at a black dress with feathers. When she stretches her arms out, wings appear. 

Katniss’ interview ends almost a minute later, and she takes her seat. This allows Peeta to come to the front of the stage, where they go back and forth being comical. Caesar changes the topic to the Quell once he sees an opportunity to, and there the mood slowly spirals downward.

He says that he and Katniss are already married, and they did it privately while they could because they wanted the moment to be theirs. Then he quickly says that it’s unofficial because the traditions back home mean almost nothing to a piece of paper confirming it. Caesar and the crowd eat it up, completely on the edge of their seats.

“As you say, no one could’ve. But I have to confess, I’m glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together.” Caesar says. There’s a round of applause, Katniss briefly looks up from her dress.

“I’m not glad,” Peeta suddenly ays, “I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially.”

There’s a shock that goes through Caesar, he doesn’t say anything for a second, “Surely even a brief time is better than no time?”

“Maybe I’d think that, too, Caesar,” Peeta spits, “if it weren’t for the baby.”

Silence.

The words sink in the air, but as people get to their feet, shaking their fists, voices raised and screaming about injustice, it sparks others to follow. It’s not long before the whole audience is a wreck and nothing but an indiscernible noise. Caesar stands there dumbfounded, speaking into the microphone but not gathering any attention.

You press your lips together to hide the smile cracking at the corners of your lips.

Caesar’s trying to get the crowd to calm down, chaos has broken out. There’s no point in saying anything once the anthem begins to play. The volume’s so loud that you can feel it in your chest when the deeper parts play. It lets you know that it’s time to get to your feet to say goodbye on the program.

You lace your fingers in front of you, but quickly notice that others are not doing the same. As you look down the line of victors to your left, where Peeta is at the end, you can see that they’re holding hands, and your district partner has his palm open to do the same. 

You grab his hand, and turn to Finnick, who has this little smile on his face, hand held up for you to take. You carefully place your hand on top of his, he’s quick to lace his fingers with yours. You squeeze tightly, hoping for some reassurance, and find him squeezing back.

When you look up to the crowd, your face twists. The light is just as strong, but you can tell what’s beyond it, because it’s no longer a sea of different shades of black, white and grey. They’re in color, they’re bright, and they almost hurt your eyes from the shades they’re wearing.

You gasp, tears filling your eyes when you look out. You remember what your stylist said about the dress you’re wearing, and look down at it. Gentle, loving, innocent, beauty, light and uplifting pink. He was right. He dressed you as a princess for these people.

You tear your eyes away to finally, finally look at Finnick, your soulmate. The reason why you’re seeing these colors. You’re met with bright and breathtaking eyes, watching your face with a crooked smile. You can’t help the laugh that comes from you as the tears overflow your eyes. 

“It’s you.” You breathe.

“It’s me.” He agrees.

[creamflix]

UNSCRIPTED — toji fushiguro x female reader [chapter 1/5]

summary: you’re a faceless author of scandalous smut — great at writing steamy scenes but totally clueless about real-life romance (and with no one to match your freak). enter toji fushiguro, a hot stranger you (accidentally) throw up on during a drunken night out. surprise! he’s also the future voice actor for your smutty novel’s main character. can you survive the awkwardness of your disastrous meet-cute while keeping your identity (and dignity) a secret? welcome to the chaos of your own erotic fantasy romcom!

content warning & tags: (erotic) voice artist! toji, (smut) writer! reader, smutty content!! [will be added over the course of the series], sort of workplace romance, secret/anon identity, slight social media au, meet-cute, virgin!reader, single dad dilf! toji, kid! megumi, strangers to lovers (?), she fell first but he fell harder, mentions of other characters (satoru gojo, suguru geto, megumi fushiguro, shoko eiri, brief mentions of ryomen sukuna)

notes: hi friends !! wow, been a hot min since i wrote something of this caliber. feels good to be back in biz ;D did you all miss persephone! suguru? because there's a LOT of him here >_< i really wanted to publish this as a oneshot but....tumblr hates me so now it's gonna be a chaptered series! oh , joy! ps @nappingmoon i got u bae, this one is for you.

read on ao3! ● series masterlist

➤ related au: persephone [business tycoon! sukuna x reader]

you never really set out to be the face of smut-lit. 

in fact, you weren’t even really a face at all — just a “faceless” author penning scandalous stories for fans who devoured them, and haters who, well… tried to eat you alive.

you’d started out innocently enough, scribbling down your little fantasies and tropes that no self-respecting romance book would touch. then one day, a friend dared you to post one on booktok. 

you thought, "fuck it" and uploaded a snippet of your latest brainchild: a steamy billionaire x star-crossed chef fic called hunger games: not that kind of hungerer. it was, admittedly, extra spicy. 

and oh, did the internet have thoughts.

soon, your comments section and dm’s became a battleground for all opinions on “what qualifies as literature.” gems included:

who even writes this crap? did a middle schooler steal her mom’s laptop? i can feel my brain cells self-destructing as i read this 💀 girl hasn’t even been within a mile radius of a dick and it SHOWS

you'd had to admit… the last comment was right. but hey, they only added to the fuel. 

like moths to a flame, they kept coming back, and the trolling just made your followers skyrocket. a lot of people secretly liked the outrageousness, the drama, and the absolute audacity of it all. before long, your books were trending, and you were raking in numbers (and dollars) most “serious” authors could only dream of.

soon, you found yourself the subject of headlines you never thought you’d see:

the faceless queen of spice: how one unknown author is reshaping romance. trolled online, loved in secret—author sells millions in ebook downloads. social media says she has no idea what she’s talking about, but her bank account says otherwise.

and the kicker?

you’d never had sex with anyone, let alone…well, rocked worlds like your characters. 

here you were, a smut writer with zero real-life experience, who’d single-handedly created booktok’s, bookstagram and hell, even the people down at twitter's guilty pleasure.

but the day big publishers started knocking on your door, it was surreal, to say the least. 

you’d been fully prepared for the anonymous online fame — hell, you’d leaned into it, posting “faceless author life” videos and doing question and answer sessions where you dropped zero identifying details, save for some vague hand gestures and blurred-out backgrounds. but now, major publishing houses wanted in on the action.

“we think your stories have broad market appeal,” one exec had said on a zoom call, trying to make “billionaire mafia love quadrangle” sound dignified. “if we could get them on shelves, we’d reach an audience beyond booktok. international appeal is the goal here!”

suddenly, your filthy, albeit occasionally cringey, tales were going global. they got translated into french (where your enemies-to-lovers series got a fancy new title: l’amour et la haine). your spicy chef saga was reborn in italian as sapore di te, which roughly translated to taste of you (and made you blush, honestly). 

and when your personal favorite, the billionaire’s forbidden touch, hit the japanese market, they titled it 禁断の夜 (which… you didn’t even want to know the translation of, because you knew it was even worse than the original).

you had to admit, though, seeing these books spread worldwide made your head spin. what started as a joke online was now somehow sitting next to classics in international bookstores, becoming a hot commodity for fans everywhere.

but the cherry on top? 

oh, that came when you opened an email from none other than gojo-sonic, the world-renowned audio company best known for its highly specialized audiobook recordings. they’d taken smut literature to the next level, hiring voice actors who sounded like they were in the room with you, all breathy whispers and seductive baritones. people had raved that these audiobooks were “too real” — like they’d been recorded in a closed room with dim lights and a whole lot of… commitment.

they offered you a multi-million dollar deal to turn your books into experiences.

one of your friends, absolutely losing it, texted you as soon as they heard the news:

homegirl [5:21 pm]: “OMG OMG so you’re gonna do it right?? u realize this means ppl will be hearing ur lil virgin brain’s fantasies out loud in their headphones right” you [5:21 pm]: “no kidding. i’m freaking out. this feels illegal.” homegirl [5:22 pm]: “but u gotta!! pls this is ICONIC.” you [5:24 pm]: “they’re giving me millions. you think i’m saying no? lmao.”

it still felt surreal that soon, the whole world would hear your books come to life with professional voice actors — ones who knew exactly how to tease and breathe and make listeners feel like they were right there.

“bring my fantasies to life, huh?” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the contract that would secure your financial future, all because of your fictional men and their, uh, moves. 

who the hell were you to say no to that?

it was surreal enough to get an email from gojo-sonic, but now, sitting across from the ceo himself, gojo satoru, you were starting to wonder if this whole experience was some fever dream.

the man was stunning in an obnoxious, immaculate way. snowy hair, piercing blue eyes, and sunglasses balanced on his head like a headband. and, okay, you had to admit: it was a little weird that he’d named his company after himself — though, frankly, it just fit.

you tried not to laugh when he introduced himself. gojo satoru, ceo of gojo-sonic. the narcissism was off the charts, but so was his charm. as a quick google search before the meeting had revealed, gojo sonic had an impeccable reputation, and there was apparently not a single scandal tied to its name.

“nice to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand and trying to keep your cool. “kinda surprised a guy is running a… company like this. no offense.”

“none taken!” he replied, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “if i’m honest, i’m probably the last guy anyone would expect here. but,” he shrugged, “it works. my employees say i’m a ‘girl’s girl,’ whatever that means.”

the way he said it so nonchalantly made you smirk. apparently, the term wasn’t a throwaway nickname, either; the gojo-sonic gossip mill painted him as the absolute dream boss. rumor had it he’d given his whole office a free day off because his assistant had been dumped, and when a writer complained about unisex bathrooms making her uncomfortable, he’d personally had a “feminine touch” added to every single stall, complete with pink hand soap and luxurious lotions. he was kind, considerate, a man who just got it.

“people say i’m probably gay,” he added, laughing as if that was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “and you know what? let ‘em think what they want.” he gave you a wink. “as long as they keep buying the goods, i couldn’t care less.”

honestly? the guy made a point. did it matter who he was taking home at the end of the day? not at all, as long as your bank account kept racking up zeros.

“speaking of,” he continued, “we’ve got the full studio ready for tomorrow. you’ll meet the voice actors, go over a few sections, and give input as needed. think of it like a live theater production, except it’s your book.”

“oh, i get to… watch them record?” you asked, wondering how mortifying it might be to sit there, watching actors give their all to lines like, “you’re mine tonight, darling.” 

yeah, you’d written it, but watching someone breathe life into it was a different level of… embarrassment.

“even better,” gojo grinned, looking far too amused by your nervousness, “you’ll get to guide them. they’ll take direction from you — however you want the line delivered, that’s how they’ll say it.”

“you mean i can… like… make suggestions? on delivery?”

“exactly!” he said with a small clap. “we want it to be perfect. i’ve already arranged for our top voice actor, toji fushiguro, to voice your main character.”

toji fushiguro?

if gojo-sonic was the industry’s top company, toji was the crown jewel of voice acting. the guy was a legend. 

he had that smoky, velvet tone that could turn a mundane grocery list into a full-on romance scene. he was also notoriously elusive; some people waited months to get him to even consider their projects. and you — the virgin author who’d stumbled into fame thanks to trolls and booktok — had him voicing your main character?

“wait, toji fushiguro is doing this?” you asked, jaw practically on the floor.

gojo chuckled, looking far too pleased with your reaction. “yep! i think you two are going to work great together. he’s intense but flexible; really good at taking feedback.”

you tried to imagine giving feedback to toji fushiguro of all people. 

“um, maybe say ‘you’re mine’ with more… conviction?” 

“can you sound a bit more possessive on that line?”

“i, uh…” you managed, trying to swallow your nerves. “okay. yeah. sounds… good.”

“great! i think you’ll be amazed. toji’s professionalism is unmatched, and he’ll bring exactly the level of…” Gojo paused, grinning, “intensity you need to really make your character come to life.”

“good luck tomorrow! i’ll make sure everything’s set up perfectly,” gojo had assured you with a big grin as you left the office. “don’t stress about a thing. our identities are always kept top secret here. toji’s included! he’s never done a face reveal, and your privacy is just as ironclad.”

oh god. tomorrow, you were really going to sit there while toji fushiguro acted out lines you’d written on a whim in your pajamas.

sure, not stressing sounded like a logical plan. but after that surreal conversation — and the realization that tomorrow morning, you’d be face-to-face with the one and only toji fushiguro, hearing him breathe life into your raunchiest fantasies — you did what any responsible, mature adult would do.

you headed straight to the nearest bar and got sloshed.

by the time you were three cocktails deep, the reality of tomorrow’s “firsts” hit you like a ton of bricks. first real direction on an audiobook, first time meeting a voice actor, first time dealing with your own steaminess out loud, and — oh god — the cherry on top, it was toji fushiguro himself.

sure, you thought, sipping from your fourth drink and trying not to scream as lana del rey sings “it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,” i might be slightly freaking out.

another cocktail slid your way. you squinted, unsure if you'd ordered it or if the bartender was just reading your general mood, because yeah, you did look like someone who needed another round.

“tough night?”

“tough tomorrow.” you swirled your drink, laughing to yourself. “i mean… you ever written a, uh, totally inappropriate novel and had to watch a famous guy turn it into audio?”

“…can’t say that i have.”

you shrugged, downing a bit more of the drink, when the song on the speakers switched to avril lavigne’s complicated. fitting, given that your life had just become exactly that.

“why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” avril sang, like she knew.

the bartender, apparently used to the types who showed up for existential crises alone, leaned against the counter. “sounds like big stuff tomorrow, then. what kind of work do you do, anyway?”

“oh, just… smutty novels,” you said, letting it slip before you could stop yourself. “just… page after page of absolutely shameless, absurd filth. and now i’m, y’know, supposed to direct the guy. to make it sound like he’s really, um, in the moment.”

the bartender chuckled, raising a brow. “sounds intense.”

“you have no idea.” you sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “he’s this insanely talented voice actor. i mean, they’ve got toji fushiguro in there, which is like… god. if he knew who i actually was, he’d probably laugh.”

why’d you have to go and make things so complicated? avril continued wailing, her words your accidental anthem.

“well, whatever happens,” the bartender said, passing you a glass of water with a grin, “sounds like you’re about to have a pretty interesting morning.”

“i’ll drink to that,” you muttered, clinking your cocktail glass against the water. you downed it, hoping that somehow, it might chase the nerves away.

and as everytime we touch, i get this feeling started blasting on the speakers, you couldn’t help but shake your head with a groan. if there was a playlist made for romantic embarrassment, it was definitely playing tonight.

in your half-sloshed state, it seemed like a good idea to turn to the stranger who’d just sauntered up to the bar — a ridiculously hot stranger, tall with dark hair, and a scar slashing right across his lip. it was the kind of look that would’ve inspired an entire chapter in one of your books, but as of right now? it was just inspiring some truly regrettable choices.

“goodness gracious, great balls of fire,” you muttered to yourself, just loud enough to catch his attention, which felt smooth, in your totally buzzed opinion. so, of course, you swung around on your stool, plastering on what you hoped was an alluring smile.

oh god, here we go. “hey there, handsome…” you paused, hiccuping “… you come here often?”

the stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, leaning an elbow against the bar with a smirk that could kill. “depends,” he said, voice low and rough. “you, uh, always this friendly after a few drinks?”

oh god. 

oh god. 

but you couldn’t stop now. 

you were committed. 

you were bold. 

with all the poise of a drunk giraffe, you propped your elbow on the bar and leaned in closer, pointing a finger at his chest — totally unintentionally, because your depth perception was off by, oh, about a mile. “well, what can i say,” you replied, attempting a sultry grin. “good-lookin’ guys like you… don’t come around often enough, mister.”

“it’s like i’m drunk off your love,” played from the speakers, not helping your case at all. 

oh god, this was actually happening. 

he actually laughed, a warm, deep chuckle, as he watched you struggle through whatever pickup line was about to escape your lips.

he tilted his head, that smirk turning up a notch. “should i be flattered?”

“you should!” you exclaimed, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “you’re like… i dunno, like one of my… you look like a… a fictional character.” 

smooth, real smooth.

“oh yeah?” his smirk widened. “so, what am i, a prince?”

“more like…” you bit your lip, trying to focus, “an antihero with a… tragic past and just enough softness in his heart to make him dangerous in all the right ways.”

he looked you up and down, bemusement clear in his eyes. “dangerous in the right ways? is that your type?”

you gave a shaky wink, nearly missing because the world was swimming a bit. “maybe.”

he chuckled, his voice all rich and velvety, and leaned in closer. “so… you’re here alone? i mean, besides all the fictional men you’re envisioning.”

“for now,” you replied, trying to sound mysterious, but it just came out as a bit… wobbly.

the bartender set the stranger’s drink down with a raised eyebrow, and he took a sip, watching you with amused interest. “you know, maybe you should slow down before you scare all the good guys away.”

“oh, trust me,” you replied, hiccuping again. “i don’t scare easy.”

he shook his head, clearly entertained, and you felt yourself glowing under his gaze. you were about to continue — just as soon as the world stopped spinning — when you felt the slightest bit queasy, your stomach reminding you that you’d had one cocktail too many.

the stranger’s amused smirk softened. “you alright there?”

“i’m…” you swallowed. “perfectly fine. just, you know… making sure you’re… getting the full effect of my…” you barely managed the word “…rizz.”

he laughed outright this time, low and warm, like he genuinely couldn’t believe you were real. “is that so? lucky me.”

it was all going so well — okay, not well, but you were holding your own, kind of. you had him laughing, after all, which for someone with approximately zero charisma was an accomplishment! but then the first chords of firework by katy perry blared through the speakers, and as if on cue, your stomach decided to join in the grand finale.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag,” katy crooned, but for you, it was more like a “do you ever feel like you’re about to ruin your night by barfing on a hot stranger?”

before you could process what was happening, the tequila-fueled fireworks decided to erupt all over this guy’s very expensive-looking shoes.

oh god. oh god.

you looked up, mortified, to find him staring down at his shoes, eyebrows raised. wow, would you look at the time? 

run.

“oh… oh no. i… i’m so sorry, i swear this never happens.”

he raised a brow, still looking somewhere between amused and horrified. “well, that’s… comforting?”

you grabbed a napkin, fumbling, still buzzing enough to not know if you should laugh, cry, or just make a run for it.

“guess that’s, uh, one way to make an impression,” he murmured, lips twitching in a smirk even as he assessed the disaster on his shoes.

“oh god. really, i’m… i’m so sorry.” you dabbed helplessly at his shoes with a cocktail napkin, somehow making things worse. “if it helps, i… i normally only vomit on hot guys.”

he chuckled, though you were sure it was mostly at you, and shook his head. “well, it’s one hell of an icebreaker.”

“baby, you’re a firework,” katy sang passionately in the background, but you were already ready to crawl under the bar and disappear forever.

you were surprised — actually, you were shocked — that the stranger hadn’t ditched you after the whole public-vomiting-on-his-shoes fiasco. instead, somehow, he was still right there, leaned in close and casually sipping his drink, just as much a mess as you were. hours had passed, and you’d been rambling about anything and everything, lost in an alcohol-fueled bubble that had turned the night into something you’d never have dreamed of.

maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was the guy’s ridiculously calm attitude, but you’d opened up about your career, the absurdity of writing spicy novels as a faceless author, and even your terror about tomorrow. he’d listened with a smirk, offering the occasional snarky remark or grunt of approval. in return, he’d told you a bit about himself too — well, at least, you thought he did. at some point, the details got hazy.

“so, what do you do?” you asked, squinting at him like it was going to make his face stop swimming in your vision.

he shrugged, swirling his drink and giving a lopsided grin. “something kinda like… acting. you know, nothing glamorous.” there was a hint of amusement there, like he was in on a joke you weren’t.

you squinted harder, your mind pulling up images of random professions. “oh, so like… theater? or like, movies? or wait — commercials? are you one of those guys that has to pretend he’s in love with a bowl of soup?”

he let out a deep laugh, and the sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. “sure, something like that. though i’d like to think i’m a bit more convincing than a soup guy.”

you grinned, leaning in closer, your curiosity fully piqued despite your state. “convincing, huh? so you’re a good actor, then?”

“i do my best,” he said, voice low, that amused glint in his eye again.

“you have to be really good to make people believe in, like, totally unrealistic things, y’know?” you babbled, waving your hand. “like, imagine trying to voice —” you cut yourself off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as you remembered why you’d gotten so sloshed in the first place. the irony of tomorrow, and how this entire conversation felt like it was straight out of one of your own stories.

but before you could get too in your head about it, he tilted his head, looking genuinely interested. “voice what? i’m curious, princess.”

princess. the nickname sent a bolt of something dangerously warm straight through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “oh, nothing…” you said, waving him off. “just, you know… the usual. people who… um, make people fall in love with their voice.”

“and what if i told you,” he leaned in even closer, smirking as if he’d just had the best idea ever, “that i could probably do that?”

you rolled your eyes, not believing him one bit. “oh really? think you could pull it off?”

“depends,” he said with a shrug. “what kinda character am i playing?”

you didn’t realize it, but you’d inched even closer, like you were hanging on his every word. “someone… someone rough around the edges,” you started, your voice dropping, completely lost in the moment, “but with a softness underneath. someone who could make the world stop with just a whisper…”

he smirked, eyes never leaving yours, and for a second, you felt like he was taking every word way too seriously. “i think i could manage that.”

you blinked, feeling a blush rise. 

this stranger had charisma — like, the kind of charisma you’d thought only existed in your characters. 

oh god, maybe you should write him into your next story. you shook yourself, blinking the daydreams away just as he started talking again.

“... and that’s why,” he was saying, “there’s a bit of an art to saying things just right. people think it’s all about the words, but it’s the way you say them that makes it real, y’know?”

you nodded, trying to focus on his words as the room spun just a bit. “so you’re telling me, it’s all in the delivery?”

“exactly.” his gaze dropped to your lips, and he smirked, like he knew exactly what he was doing. “even the… dirtiest lines sound good if you say ’em the right way.”

oh no. that dangerous warmth was back.

somewhere between his intense gaze and that slow, lopsided smirk, dancing queen by abba blared through the bar speakers, jarring you out of your tipsy trance. the upbeat, disco-infused rhythm filled the room, all but laughing at the “moment” you thought you were having with this too-hot-for-reality stranger.

was this a moment? or were you just ridiculously drunk? did he even have a name? or were you just too far gone to have bothered asking?

“you can dance, you can jive,” abba sang, practically mocking you as you stared, wide-eyed, at the man across from you, his scarred lip twisted in a little grin as he watched you piece it all together. he must’ve seen the dawning realization on your face, because he chuckled, reaching for his drink again.

“something wrong, princess?” he asked, leaning forward with a glint of amusement.

oh, great. i’ve already been promoted to ‘princess’ by a guy i might not know the name of. you were seconds away from facepalming.

“uh, nothing,” you said, waving a hand as casually as you could manage. “just, uh, thinking how ironic it is that dancing queen is playing while… we’re, you know…”

“... having a moment?” he teased, clearly enjoying himself.

“well,” you cleared your throat, cheeks blazing, “if you can call me drunkenly staring at you while abba serenades us a ‘moment.’”

“hey, it’s a solid soundtrack choice,” he replied, looking like he was suppressing a laugh. “besides, don’t pretend this isn’t kinda perfect.”

“you think dancing queen is perfect for this?”

he shrugged, sipping his drink. “come on, you’re hammered, i’m here keeping you company, and we’re both, what… living in the moment?” he quirked a brow, his smirk widening as he eyed you, like he was daring you to argue.

and then, maybe out of pure liquid courage, or maybe because the absurdity was too much, you laughed. “yeah, living the moment… with some guy whose name i don’t even know.”

“toji,” he said, offering his hand with a lazy grin, like he’d just handed you a secret.

“toji,” you echoed, shaking his hand. he held on for a second longer than necessary, his gaze never leaving yours.

 oh, this guy was trouble, and you were in so deep.

“and you?” he asked, still holding your hand.

you barely managed to whisper your name, but it came out like a sigh, and he repeated it back like it was something precious. “well then,” he said, smirking, “guess that makes two dancing queens tonight.”

“toji…” you muttered, the name slipping off your tongue again as you tried to place it. there was something familiar about it, like you’d heard it before, but in your tequila-drenched state, nothing was sticking. 

toji, toji… where had you heard that name?

he cocked an eyebrow, clearly amused as you stared at him like he was the world’s most frustrating puzzle. “something on your mind?”

“n-no,” you stammered, then immediately backpedaled. “wait, actually, yes. toji, right?”

he nodded, a playful gleam in his eye. “that’s the one.”

“toji… toji…” you repeated, squinting at him as if a clearer view would magically connect the dots. and then, it hit you — toji fushiguro. 

the voice actor who would be bringing your spicy, shamelessly dramatic main character to life. 

the same guy you were supposed to meet tomorrow, the guy who was probably used to making everyone’s knees buckle with just a whisper.

“no way…” you whispered, clutching your head, and you could practically feel the blush creeping up your cheeks. “you — you’re… that toji?”

he gave a slight tilt of his head, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “what, surprised that i could be both hot and talented?”

you sputtered, trying to backtrack and failing miserably. “no! i mean, yes, but i just — tomorrow —  you’re… you’re the guy who’s voicing my main character?”

he leaned back with a smirk, clearly enjoying the whirlwind of emotions he was putting you through. “didn’t think the universe would give you a sneak preview tonight, huh?”

your fuzzy brain struggled to compute this twist of fate. you were drunk, mortified, and beyond flustered, sitting in a bar with the man who’d soon be giving voice to all your filthy, shameless words. this was almost too much.

“oh my god,” you muttered, sinking back in your seat. “i literally threw up on my main character’s shoes.”

toji let out a hearty laugh, patting your shoulder. “hey, if anything, i’d say it’s on-brand for the kind of night you’d write.”

just as you were processing the sheer, ridiculous insanity of the situation, a fresh wave of nausea hit you like a freight train. before you could even react, you leaned forward and… splattered the floor with a decidedly not-dignified stream of bile. this time, it was almost cinematic, complete with a dramatic gagging sound that had you doubling over.

you watched in horror as you once again spewed your insides onto the floor, narrowly missing toji’s shoes but definitely adding a new layer to the already mortifying scene. 

you’d probably just hit rock bottom.

“oh, god,” you groaned, covering your mouth with your hand as the bile burned your throat. “i swear… i’m not normally like this.”

toji chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as he handed you a stack of napkins the bartender had generously supplied. “i’m starting to think i’m just a little too overwhelming for you, princess.”

you shot him a sheepish look as you wiped your mouth. overwhelming was an understatement. 

“yeah, maybe we can leave that out of tomorrow’s team introductions,” you mumbled, trying desperately to pull yourself together.

toji chuckled, tossing a few more napkins your way. “no judgment here. it’s a rough night for a first ‘meet-cute,’ but hey, you’re nothing if not memorable.”

you gripped the napkin, willing yourself to hold it together, at least until you could make a semi-dignified exit. “i don’t even want to know what story you’ll tell people about this.”

toji just laughed, completely unbothered, as if getting vomited on was a regular night for him. “don’t worry, i’ll keep it discreet.” his voice dipped, lowering to a murmur. “for a girl with secrets, i figure you’d appreciate that.”

he lifted his drink and gave you a small toast. “to first meetings — and unforgettable nights. and hey, maybe tomorrow, you’ll surprise me and keep it down.”

oh, god, you thought, as you attempted to bury yourself in your napkin. if only i could crawl under the bar and hide forever.

normally, you wouldn’t wake up with “dancing queen” stuck in your head, but as you nursed the remnants of a truly terrible hangover, it felt almost... pleasant? the upbeat melody cut through the fog of your brain, and you couldn’t help but hum along, even if the lyrics felt like a cruel reminder of your embarrassing escapades from the night before.

“you can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life...”

wait, why dancing queen of all songs? you squinted at your alarm clock, your heart racing as the memories started flooding back like a poorly written rom-com. oh.

OH.

your eyes widened as you bolted out of bed with a speed that could make an olympic runner blush, frantically throwing on whatever clothes you could find — did you seriously still have a piece of glitter from last night stuck in your hair? gross! but no time for a shower; you had a meeting to get to at gojo-sonic, and you were about to meet — erm, remeet — toji fushiguro.

“ooh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the dancing queen...”

as the lyrics blared in your head like an incessant movie soundtrack, you dashed out the door, praying you’d catch a cab in time. the universe couldn’t possibly let you walk into this meeting looking like a hot mess — especially when your main character's voice was waiting on the other side.

“you’re a tease you turn ‘em on…leave ‘em burning and then you’re gone…”

you rolled your eyes at your own ridiculousness. who cared if you’d practically thrown up on the guy? all you had to do was survive your own personal dance-off with fate and hope toji didn’t remember the lovely little details from last night.

you took a deep breath, determined to channel all the confidence you could muster. today was going to be great. right?

as you walked into the meeting room, gojo practically huffed an air of relief. you couldn’t help but think it was a little dramatic — like, it’s just a meeting. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the last remnants of your hangover and the lingering embarrassment of last night’s vomit-venture.

the room was brightly lit, filled with a few familiar faces, including toji, who was leaning casually against a table with that annoyingly charming grin plastered on his face. 

great. you’d somehow forgotten just how hot he was in the light of day. 

toji’s presence made your stomach flutter and flip, but you shoved that feeling down — this was business, after all.

you scanned the room and spotted gojo-sonic’s most valued investor suguru geto on a screen in the corner, his hair tied back and eyes sharp as he joined the meeting online. wow, great first impression! with a sudden wave of panic, you could almost hear the dancing queen lyrics mocking you in the back of your mind. what’s next, bursting into song?

“hey, look who finally made it!” toji said, amusement dancing in his eyes. perfect. if he was going to make light of your grand entrance, you had to think fast to steer the conversation away from the disaster that was last night.

“sorry for keeping you all waiting,” you replied, forcing a smile that hopefully didn’t look too forced. “i had... a crazy night.”

toji raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “crazy night, huh? did you bring us any stories?”

you shot him a warning glance, your heart racing as you internally pleaded with him not to say anything that could ruin your career. thankfully, he just chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning back, letting the moment hang in the air without any revealing comments.

“i think we’d all like to hear that,” suguru said, his tone teasing as he adjusted the camera. “but let’s save the fun stuff for later, right? we’ve got work to do.”

you nodded, grateful for suguru’s timely intervention. “yes, absolutely! so, uh, about the voice work —”

the atmosphere shifted as the others exchanged knowing glances, and you knew you’d have to tread carefully. this meeting was crucial, and you couldn’t let last night’s incident derail everything you’d worked for. with any luck, maybe you could just keep your foot out of your mouth for the rest of the meeting.

toji always knew he was hot.

i mean, how could he not? 

with a jawline that could slice bread and a smirk that could charm the pants off anyone, confidence practically dripped off him like a cologne commercial. but the real question was: how to channel this hotness and turn it into something lucrative? great question! 

being a single dad to wasn’t easy, and running from odd job to odd job just to scrape enough money for the brat’s school was proving to be tiresome. until one day, a certain gojo satoru decided to drop a bombshell on him.

“toji, you ever think about using that voice of yours for something... more creative?” gojo asked, leaning back in his office chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“creative? what, like narrating my life as a sad single dad?” toji replied dryly, rolling his eyes. “because let me tell you, it’s not exactly a page-turner.”

“no, no, hear me out!” gojo insisted, practically bouncing in his seat. “i’m talking about voice acting — specifically, erotic audiobooks. it’s the next big thing!”

toji blinked, momentarily stunned. “you mean to tell me that the former bouncer at an elite club would be voicing erotic audiobooks? saying those weird, cringey lines that women seem to love? you’re insane.”

“think about it! you have the looks, the voice, and the whole mysterious vibe down pat,” gojo urged, waving his hands dramatically. “besides, you need the cash, and i need someone to bring a little... heat to my company.”

“you really think people want to hear me read lines like, ‘take me, you wild beast?’” toji quipped, snorting.

fast forward to his first recording session, where everything seemed to be going smoothly until disaster struck. toji was deep in character, delivering his best sexy voice when — bam! — the bathroom pipe exploded in his tiny flat.

“oh god, yes, just like that —” he started, voice dripping with sultry charm, when suddenly, a muffled splash! interrupted him, followed by megumi’s wail from the other room.

“dad! there’s water everywhere!”

toji cursed under his breath, trying to maintain his composure. “i’m coming! just... give me a second, i’m — ah, it’s getting so hot in here!” he struggled to continue, desperately trying to block out the chaos around him while the sounds of the pipe gushing water filled the audio.

but it turned out hormones took over the technical difficulties, because when the snippet was finally released, women and men of all ages were devouring it like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. it even went viral on tiktok, with cringe-worthy wannabes trying to recreate his sultry lines, failing miserably while toji sat back, amused.

“really? you think you can pull this off?” he chuckled to himself, watching one kid awkwardly mimic him. “nice try, kid. but good luck sounding this good while your mom’s screaming at you for hogging the bathroom.”

because toji wasn’t just a househusband — house father — anymore. he was a household name, and everyone knew him. his rise to fame was a wild ride, but hey, at least now he could afford to get the bathroom fixed — one line at a time.

he could hardly wrap his head around how he’d managed to move out of his tiny, crumbling apartment and into a much better place for him and megumi. it was like waking up one day and realizing he’d accidentally won the lottery. “wait, how did i end up here?” he’d mutter to himself, staring at the pristine walls and polished floors. “and how the hell can i pay megumi’s school fees on time without dodging dirty glares from the accounts office?”

he’d walk into the school, head held high, while megumi proudly puffed out his eight-year-old chest. “my daddy’s an actor!” he’d announce to anyone who would listen. toji couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. i mean, the kid wasn’t wrong. he was acting — acting like he had his life together, at least!

but did his new job stop toji from being a little hoe? oh, hell no. 

if anything, the fame went straight to his head — both up and down there, mind you. toji was like a kid in a candy store, and he was using his newfound charm to siphon money from literally every sugar mommy he could find. 

and daddies, too, if he was feeling daring. 

because people would die to be known as someone “close” to the toji fushiguro.

“oh my god, is that him?” a passerby would whisper, nudging her friend as they walked past toji at a private event.

“i think it is! i heard he’s dating someone famous,” her friend would respond, leaning in as if they were sharing a juicy secret. “i’ve seen him at that new club downtown. he’s just so... magnetic.”

“totally! i mean, if i could get him to call me ‘sweetheart’ just once, i’d die a happy woman,” the first friend would say, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically.

toji would smirk to himself, sipping his drink while casually overhearing their chatter. “yep, you’re right. i’m as available as a 24/7 convenience store,” he’d think, reveling in the attention. "i could probably charm the pants off a rock if i tried."

another group of giggling fans would walk by, whispering amongst themselves, “i met him at that charity event last week! he was so sweet! like, did you see the way he talked to everyone? he’s definitely a heartthrob.”

“sweet? you mean hot, right?” one of them would tease, and they’d all burst into laughter.

“please, if he looked at me, i’d die!” another would declare, all starry-eyed.

toji’s smirk widened. “keep it coming, ladies. i’m just here for the show.” he couldn’t deny it; being the center of attention was intoxicating, and he was loving every second of it.

with a wink and a little wave, he’d keep strutting through life like a runway model, knowing full well he had the power to turn heads and keep wallets open. “who knew being a hot voice actor could be this fun?”

great that you’d ask what toji did with all that sweet, sweet cash! save it all for his brat of a son, of course, even if he wouldn’t admit it. beneath that rugged exterior and playful swagger, he had a soft spot for the little sucker.

just the other week, megumi had been rambling on about wanting a really cool new video game console. “but daddy, alllll my friends have one! it’s so unfair!” he’d whined, big blue eyes practically shimmering with hope. toji had rolled his eyes, trying to act tough, but the moment he saw the kid's face, his heart melted like butter on a hot skillet. “fine, but only if you promise to finish your homework first.”

the next day, megumi had unwrapped a brand-new console, complete with all the latest games, and toji had basked in the sheer delight radiating from his son. “this is the best day ever!” megumi had screamed, wrapping his arms around toji’s waist. “thank you, daddy!”

toji grinned like an idiot, pretending to be unimpressed. “yeah, yeah, don’t go losing it on the first day, alright? and remember, no playing after eight!” he was basically a walking contradiction: a grumpy dad who secretly loved being the cool parent.

then there was that time megumi had been obsessed with this rare action figure from his favorite show. toji had seen the way his son’s eyes lit up every time he spotted it in a store, but it was always sold out. so, naturally, when toji found one online at a steep price, he didn’t hesitate. “i’ll just skip my overpriced rum for a week. totally worth it.”

when megumi had opened the package, he’d literally jumped in the air, screeching like a siren. “no way! you got it for me!?” and toji had played it cool, shrugging his shoulders. “what can i say? your dad’s a generous guy.”

of course, this indulgence didn’t go unnoticed by gojo satoru. the six eyes — er, eyes! — of the man always seemed to be on toji, especially when he noticed his friend was splurging just a little too much on himself — like that new leather jacket that looked ridiculously good on him. 

“i need a jacket like that,” gojo had muttered to himself, glancing at his own wardrobe with disappointment.

whenever toji treated himself, gojo would quietly slide a check over to him, nonchalantly muttering, “just a little something for megumi’s school expenses.”

some people would have viewed it as offensive or patronizing, but not toji. he’d always laughed it off, feeling grateful instead. in his mind, gojo was like a guardian angel — “if guardian angels wore sunglasses and had a taste for expensive sweets.” he saw it as gojo looking out for megumi, which made toji’s heart swell with warmth. “who else would want to help raise my kid? might as well accept it.”

“just don’t make a habit of it, alright?” toji would say with a teasing grin. “i don’t need you spoiling him more than i do.”

“too late,” gojo would quip, already plotting ways to sneak more gifts into megumi’s life. “it’s my new hobby.”

so, when gojo casually dropped the bomb that toji would be voicing one of the hottest, trending smut book — “mating with the demon king” or something equally ridiculous — toji shrugged it off. “simple enough job,” he thought. “and it must be good if they came to me for it.”

but when gojo suggested he read the book to get an idea of the material — “just a little prep work,” he’d said with that infuriatingly charming grin — things took a wild turn.

big mistake, toji would later reflect as he flipped through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up higher than a roller coaster. “who writes this stuff?” he muttered, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all.

the content was downright depraved. there were scenes that had him questioning his entire existence. 

“‘he thrust into her like a man possessed, each stroke igniting a fire within her’ — what even is that?” he read aloud, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness. megumi, playing quietly in the other room, wondered why his daddy was cackling like a madman.

“uh, daddy? why are you reading that out loud?” megumi had peeked in, eyes wide with curiosity. toji quickly scrambled to shut the book. “uh, just… learning about, uh, cooking techniques!” he stammered, trying to play it cool. “you wouldn’t get it, buddy.”

but the laughter continued to bubble out of him, and he couldn’t help but read some of the more ludicrous lines. “‘his lips found her collarbone, trailing heat like a wildfire’ — who even talks like that?” he shook his head, utterly bemused.

by the end of the chapter, he was howling. “‘she gasped as he swept her off her feet and into a world of ecstasy’ — oh please!” toji chortled, clutching his stomach, imagining how this would all sound through a microphone. “my kid is gonna think i’ve lost my goddamn mind.”

but hey, if this job was going to pay the bills, he figured he could endure a little humiliation. “it’s all in a day’s work, right?” he muttered to himself, finally accepting that he was now the voice of “mating with the demon king.”

all that reading really took its toll on toji — physically, mentally, spiritually even. after hours spent tripping over lines like “pressed against the throbbing heat of his desire” (yeah, that one took five tries to get through without laughing), he needed to clear his head. so, he found himself at a bar, halfway through a drink, hoping to numb the embarrassment he’d just endured in the name of rent money.

then stumbles this stranger — a cute, very tipsy stranger who quickly parked herself right next to him and started chatting him up, wide-eyed and slightly unsteady. great, drunk people, he thought, resisting an eyeroll as she grinned at him, looking ready to either start a fight or profess her love. 

maybe both.

of course, what are the odds she’d go ahead and throw up on his shoes? yes, his brand-new shoes, because, apparently, the universe had decided that tonight, toji fushiguro would be the world’s personal punching bag. “can’t even get through one drink without some shit happening,” he muttered to himself as she looked up at him with a horrified expression. “we’re off to a great start here, huh?”

after some water and some awkward apologies (mostly her apologizing, mostly him trying not to laugh), they fell into surprisingly decent conversation. she was rambling about her job, the stress, the weird demands — stuff he could sympathize with, honestly. 

and that’s when he dropped it, just for fun: “i’m a voice actor.”

her eyes sparkled with recognition — a little too much recognition, actually, which made him narrow his eyes. “wait, what’s your name?” she asked, suddenly all ears.

“toji. toji fushiguro.”

the second he said it, her face went from curious to horrified to... oh yeah, she knew exactly who he was. “wait,” she gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. “you’re... you’re the voice actor for my book.”

toji raised an eyebrow, deadpan. 

so this was the writer, the one who wrote all that nonsense he’d been struggling through for days. well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top. not only was this his boss but also the very person responsible for phrases like “pulsing need” and “moans spilling like honey.” and she’d just puked on him. 

talk about a power move.

“small world,” he said, his tone dry as desert sand. wonderful, he thought. my boss threw up on me. but, hey, the night was still young. 

he took a long sip from his drink, hoping she wouldn’t take this as an excuse to unleash some kind of creative critique.

“i... i didn’t know you’d be here,” she stammered, a shade redder than before, probably realizing what this made her look like — her, the lady behind the “throbbing heat of desire” shtick.

“don’t worry,” he said, giving her a smirk. “i won’t tell anyone the literary mastermind responsible for all that... romance has a weak stomach.”

you probably don’t remember much after you composed yourself following that second round of projectile embarrassment — but don’t worry, toji remembers. the man’s got a steel trap for the kinds of memories you’d prefer stayed buried. once he’d figured out that you weren’t exactly in shape to be left wandering around, he made the executive decision to get you home. yeah, he’d just met you a couple hours ago, but somehow, through the boozy haze and questionable life choices, he’d managed to catch your address. 

impressive detective work, really… or, well, you may have blurted it out mid-ramble about how “the streetlight outside is the only thing lighting up your lonely hallway.” 

a touch dramatic, but, hey, it worked.

so he got you back to your place (no thanks to the cab driver’s judgmental side-eye), got you up the stairs without you faceplanting, and, after propping you up long enough to unlock your door, he even went the extra mile and tucked you under the covers. you, meanwhile, mumbled something about “tequila being the devil,” blissfully oblivious to the poor guy who’d just witnessed more of your personal life than your closest friends. toji took one last look before heading out, chuckling to himself as you drifted off, probably already dreaming of whatever literary nonsense you’d be writing next.

but what really stuck with him? the damn “dancing queen” chorus ringing in his ears from the bar. maybe it was still playing somewhere out there in the night, or maybe you’d just cursed him with it. because as he walked home, hands shoved in his pockets, there it was, looping over and over in his head. 

“you can dance… you can jive…” 

great, now he’d be humming it for days.

both you and toji were snapped back into the fluorescent-lit reality of the conference room, where gojo was still going on about… royalties? percentages? to be honest, the entire spiel sounded more like corporate white noise to you. 

toji, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, looking as disinterested as humanly possible without actually falling asleep. across the screen, suguru appeared in one of those stiff, all-business modes, nodding along to gojo’s speech. his eyes had that telltale sparkle that only appeared when money was the topic — “stakeholder perks,” as gojo would call it, though it just meant suguru got to rake in extra cash on the side.

“and once the audiobook’s live, the split from the sales will be recalculated quarterly, yadda yadda, yadaaa —” gojo’s voice broke into a sing-song, clearly amusing only himself. “anyway, you guys will see some real sweet checks from this.”

“royalties…” suguru interjected, a bit too smoothly, “remind me what those projected percentages were again, satoru?”

toji suppressed a snort. here they were, with the man himself who could barely be bothered to read a weather report straight, much less your raunchy magnum opus. good luck explaining earnings, gojo.

“oh yeah, royalties!” gojo cleared his throat, launching into a number-laden monologue that seemed to somehow both explain everything and nothing at once. toji barely listened, glancing at the digital clock on the wall. it was only when gojo pivoted, with a suddenly very pointed look, that toji actually tuned back in.

“so, did everyone do their, ah, homework?” gojo grinned as his gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on you with a bit too much knowing amusement. “read the… material?”

you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat, and every other voice actor in the room suddenly found the table, the wall, or their own shoes very interesting.

all except toji, of course, who stretched back with the most obnoxious smirk you’d seen yet.

“homework?” he drawled, deadpan as always. “yeah, got right into it. wouldn’t want to miss a single word of that… fine literature.”

a few of the others exchanged awkward looks, clearly unsure how to respond to the dead-serious way toji said fine literature without a shred of irony. meanwhile, you shrank a little in your seat, not exactly loving the fact that the guy you threw up on was apparently the one voice actor who actually read your work cover-to-cover. not to mention, this was toji fushiguro, the voice actor who’d taken the world by storm with a single, leaked snippet. you'd heard your fans say that he was some kind of god-tier talent — practically a household name. and now? 

he was casually staring you down like he'd just read your diary.

“it’s… it’s not that bad,” you muttered defensively, feeling a prickling heat rise up your neck.

toji raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “oh, didn’t say it was bad. just, uh… thorough.”

you felt the blush intensify, but before you could reply, gojo jumped back in, undeterred. “great! since everyone’s read it now, we’ll dive into scene breakdowns tomorrow, with input from our illustrious author here.” he winked at you in that annoyingly playful way of his, as if he’d just orchestrated the whole thing for kicks. “it’s all about bringing your vision to life, yeah?”

“looking forward to it.” toji’s tone was smooth, with just enough emphasis to hint at the mischief lying behind his calm expression. you could swear there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes, and the fact that he’d actually read the book — a book that you wrote in a creative haze, no less — was beginning to feel less like a weird coincidence and more like some cosmic joke at your expense.

suguru’s voice broke through, “and let’s hope that translates to success, right, gojo? my dividends would certainly appreciate it.”

“oh, don’t you worry, sugu bear.” gojo leaned in with that shark-like grin of his. “with toji voicing this masterpiece, and the author right here to guide us? we’re printing money already.”

with a dramatic flourish, gojo clapped his hands together, instantly breaking the tension. “alright, dismissed! snacks are out front — help yourselves, or not! more for me, after all,” he added, a mischievous glint in his eye as he clearly envisioned his sugary hoard.

suguru took this moment as his graceful exit cue, giving a short nod before the screen blinked off. gojo sighed theatrically, clasping his chest. “oh, suguru, leaving so soon? you wound me! who’s going to discuss ‘dividends’ and ‘royalties’ with me now?”

nobody had the heart — or possibly the patience — to answer that question, which suited gojo just fine as he spun on his heel, making his way toward the snack table. 

you, meanwhile, considered vanishing altogether, at least until the next segment of the day when you’d actually need to make yourself useful. judging by the energy in the room, none of the other voice actors were in a rush to strike up a conversation with you. 

ouch. apparently, being the creator of their next project wasn’t that much of a social asset.

you edged toward the door, already halfway to freedom when, like clockwork, a deep, familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “leaving so soon?”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. obnoxious didn’t even cover half of it. “just… thought i’d give you guys a break from me,” you muttered, gripping the strap of your bag tighter, hoping it looked casual instead of like an attempt to bolt.

toji’s laugh was low, almost teasing. “a break? i don’t mind the company. in fact, i think the others are just shy.” his words were smooth, but there was a mischievous lilt to them, like he was very aware of just how uncomfortable you probably were.

“right,” you deadpanned, summoning every ounce of sarcasm you had left. “they’re all just shy.”

he chuckled, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the snack table. gojo was already there, unabashedly sampling a tray of tiny cupcakes. he shot you both a grin that was, in all honesty, more threatening than friendly. 

oh god, why is he looking at us like that?

“so!” gojo swiped another cupcake, leaning back against the table as he took in you and toji with an almost too-pleased expression. “getting along, are we? i mean, it’s not every day you get to work so closely with the voice behind your book, right?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if trying to ignite some sort of spark just to make things interesting.

toji, unbothered as ever, shrugged. “she already threw up on me. might as well be friends after that, huh?”

oh my god. 

you felt the flush rise to your face instantly, a mix of embarrassment and horror. he did not just bring that up in front of gojo, of all people.

“aww, how cute!” gojo crooned, looking absolutely delighted as he clapped his hands in that overly-enthusiastic, not-at-all sincere way. “bonding over bodily fluids. you guys are practically soulmates!”

“please, kill me now,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at the snack table like it might provide an escape hatch.

toji leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone. “don’t worry, author. i’ve seen worse.”

“great, that’s… comforting,” you muttered, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you grabbed a snack at random. at this point, you were ready to make a quick exit, potentially before the day’s work even started if it meant escaping this scene.

“now, don’t run off too fast,” gojo added, wagging a finger at you with a sly grin. “i’m expecting all of us back here in an hour, nice and energized. don’t want any excuses!”

toji shot you one last look, equal parts teasing and unreadable, before he turned to grab a coffee. “guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he murmured, a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes.

wonderful. absolutely wonderful. well, at least there’s cupcakes.

it’s only five minutes into the recording session, and you’re already wondering if there’s a job market for earth-burrowing positions. if there is, you’d gladly take it. anything would be better than this…circus.

the sound booth is packed with voice actors delivering line after line of your book’s carefully crafted (painfully cheesy) smutty dialogue. you bite your lip, both cringing and resisting the urge to laugh out loud as one of the actors, a slender guy with an unfortunate tendency to over-dramatize every vowel, reads his line with a tragic sigh.

“i can’t help it… i just want to devour you.”

devour you? you want to throw yourself into the nearest trash can. before you can stop yourself, you lean forward into the mic, managing a half-apologetic, half-pleading tone. “uh, could you maybe… ease up on the ‘devour’ part? like, less dramatic, more… suave?”

he nods seriously, doing a quick vocal warm-up before trying again. “i can’t help it… i just want to devoooour—”

“nope! nope, nope, nope!” you blurt, a little louder than you intended, the cringe spiraling out of control. you quickly clear your throat, trying to sound as professional as possible. “let’s, uh, maybe just skip to the next line.”

from the corner of the room, you catch sight of gojo, who’s grinning so widely you’re genuinely concerned his face might stay that way forever. he’s watching you with an infectious enthusiasm that’s bordering on manic, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement. you’re half-expecting him to yell, “surprise! this is an snl skit!”

you rub at your temple, wishing the earth would do you a solid and open up beneath you, while the next actor — a petite, sweet-looking woman who’s visibly uncomfortable — takes her turn. she clears her throat, looking down at her script, and delivers the line in a barely-there whisper, “i… i want you to take me… take me as if…”

“um…” you grimace, instantly feeling the heat rise to your face. “maybe a bit louder? but, you know, sensual.”

she blushes, muttering something under her breath before raising her voice, though it’s still trembling. “i… i want you to… take me… as if…”

toji, who’s been watching the whole scene from his seat, chuckles lowly, and his smirk sends a jolt of embarrassment through you. “jeez, author, why don’t you just hop in there and show ’em how it’s done?” he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, though it’s not unkind.

you throw him a flat look, biting back an eye roll. not like i wanted to be here, you think to yourself. it’s just that somehow, the universe decided that today you’d be responsible for turning lines you’d never want to say out loud into something even remotely palatable.

and it only gets worse. 

another actor — a deep-voiced, well-meaning guy in his mid-40s — leans into his mic and reads out, in a gruff voice you can only describe as a rejected batman impersonation: “you’re driving me… wild.” his tone is so intense it’s like he’s threatening to fight the listener in a parking lot.

“okay… we might want to dial it back a little,” you say carefully, hoping to mask your horror with politeness. “just… a little less ‘supervillain,’ more… warm?”

you hear toji chuckle behind you, low and rumbling, clearly reveling in your suffering. and as you glance over your shoulder, you find gojo, once again, looking like this is the best entertainment he’s had in years. 

at this point, he might actually cry from laughing.

just when you think it can’t get any worse, toji stands, giving you a wink as he heads into the booth for his turn. he takes the mic, his face blank and unreadable as he starts reading the next line.

“i need you… right now,” he purrs, his voice oozing that lazy, sensual charm you’d envisioned for this character. it’s… almost unfair, really. 

there’s not an ounce of irony or overacting. 

toji’s delivery is so smooth, so confident, that it catches you off guard, a flush rising to your cheeks.

gojo lets out a low whistle, giving you a teasing look as if to say, see? was that so hard?

“finally,” you mutter under your breath, swallowing the lump in your throat. gojo raises a brow, clearly enjoying every second of your awkwardness.

you sigh, mentally bracing yourself for the rest of the recording. if nothing else, at least one actor seems to have nailed the tone — much to your embarrassment and gojo’s endless delight.

you clear your throat, attempting to regain some semblance of control over the recording session, which is proving to be harder than herding a pack of caffeinated cats. “right, everyone, let’s, uh, keep moving and go ahead with recording the dragon king’s lines. toji, if you’re ready?”

but you barely finish your sentence before gojo claps toji on the shoulder with that all-too-annoying bromance energy, grinning from ear to ear. “our star is ready, aren’t ya, toji? i mean, look at this guy! look at him! can’t believe i found this gem for gojo-sonic!” gojo’s voice carries that infuriatingly proud tone that practically drips with smug satisfaction.

you stifle an eye roll, and even the other actors exchange glances, half-annoyed, half-amused at gojo’s over-the-top fawning. but before you can jump in to cut gojo off, toji just smirks, sliding comfortably into the mic like he was born to deliver cheesy lines.

“alright, alright,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “let’s see what you’ve got, mr. dragon king.”

toji adjusts the headphones, his lazy smirk already primed. 

and then he begins, voice low and sultry, hitting each cringe-worthy word with the same ridiculous gravitas that has the whole room mesmerized.

“i have waited eons for a beauty like yours to grace my realm. come… be mine, and together we shall rule the heavens.”

you can practically feel everyone holding their breath, transfixed by the sheer sincerity in his tone, despite the line’s absurdity. you, too, can’t help but feel a blush creeping up your neck, which is just unfair given you wrote these lines. 

you knew what they were meant to sound like, but this? 

he’s delivering them like they’re damn poetry.

toji doesn’t stop there, though, his deep voice carrying each line as though he’s serenading the mic. “my heart burns with a fire only you can soothe. take my hand, and i swear to guard your heart with my very life.”

gojo is practically fawning, batting his eyelashes like a proud parent in the corner. “see, people, this is how it’s done! let the dragon king here show you amateurs how it’s really supposed to sound!”

you resist the urge to chuck something at gojo as the other actors’ eyes widen, watching in awe.

one of them mutters under their breath, “no way we’re topping that.”

and then, toji’s voice dips even lower, the next line coming out in a growl that somehow manages to be both dramatic and, disturbingly, kind of… enchanting.

“you are the breath in my lungs, the flame in my veins. without you, i am but a shadow… a beast in the dark.”

the room is dead silent. 

you’re all fawning, gushing messes, and you’re not even sure how it happened. it’s like toji’s somehow turned this trial recording into an absurdly hot moment. you can barely believe you’re hearing the same lines you once labeled “ridiculously cringey” in the draft.

finally, he leans back, looking pleased with himself, as if he hadn’t just left everyone a little breathless. gojo practically beams with pride, nudging you. 

“so… i think you’ve found your dragon king, wouldn’t you say?”

you nod, still stunned, half in disbelief, half in begrudging admiration. if this was just the trial recording, you could only imagine how many blushing, starry-eyed listeners this final audiobook was going to leave in its wake.

the moment the trial recording session wraps up, gojo is the first one on his feet, clapping his hands like he's just watched the performance of a lifetime. “brilliant!” he practically shouts, pulling out his phone faster than you can blink. “suguru needs to hear this,” he mutters, already dialing his business partner like a kid who can’t wait to brag about his latest toy.

sometimes you really do forget that gojo is the ceo of a multi-million dollar company — an erotic audiobook company, no less. 

is he this passionate about the art, or is it just the money? either way, watching him fanboy over his own employee leaves you a mix of amused and exhausted.

there’s a charm to it, though, even if it’s a little baffling to witness in real time.

as the energy in the studio starts to mellow, you find yourself actually breathing a bit easier. for once, things seem to be going smoothly. 

maybe this whole collaboration wouldn’t be a disaster after all. 

you let yourself relax, even if a small part of your brain chides you with a quick reminder: next time, skip the cheap caffeine fix when you’re pulling an all-nighter writing smut. 

or… cheap anything, really. 

yeah, you don’t actually smoke, you remind yourself — except, well, that one time in college, but hey, that was a whole different you. one that should stay buried in the relics of questionable decisions, right next to your spiral-bound notes of embarrassingly bad poetry.

just as you’re praying to the universe that this is all going to wrap up without any extra drama, you hear it. the sound that’s become both your nightmare and… okay, maybe, a little less than that.

“well, princess,” toji’s voice rumbles, his tone as amused as it is teasing, “got anything else you want from your dragon king?”

you close your eyes and will the ground to open up beneath you, but nope, nothing. 

nothing but the sound of your heartbeat doing an awkward little tango in your chest.

of course he’d pick now to resurrect that ridiculous moniker from last night. like it wasn’t humiliating enough when he threw it out there while you were a couple drinks deep and all but glued to your seat at the bar. 

oh, you’re practically begging the universe to put you out of your misery — well, actually, now that you think about it, maybe being wrapped up in those beefy arms wouldn’t be the worst fate…

wow. get a grip, girl. this is the caffeine deprivation talking. 

definitely that.

but then toji smirks at you, an eyebrow raised, as if he’s just dared you to respond. and all you can think is… oh, lord, this man is trouble.

"c’mon, just a drink,” toji insists, flashing that devil-may-care grin that both ruins and improves your day within a matter of seconds. he’s leaning back like he’s got all the time in the world, casually ignoring how you definitely don’t. 

“trust me, princess, it’ll settle your nerves.”

it’s not like you need a reminder of the mess that was last night. every foggy memory swirls in your head, like life’s own cruel version of a mocktail — one garnished with shame, regret, and a generous helping of last night’s tequila. 

if anything, adding more drinks to this equation feels about as smart as walking blindfolded into traffic.

but toji’s already up, stretching like he’s completely unaware of the chaotic memories this whole “outing” is summoning. “just a quick look around gojo-sonic, yeah?” he says, nodding toward the maze of hallways beyond the studio door, his face the perfect picture of innocence.

“you’re new here, and it’s… important to know the lay of the land. work reasons.”

you can practically hear the quotation marks around that “work reasons.”

“you know,” he adds with a wink, “never hurts to see where the magic happens.”

yeah, right. you have a feeling the only magic here is him somehow dragging you deeper into your personal nightmare.

you don’t even get the chance to respond with a yes, no, or a “maybe next century” when toji’s phone lights up and his whole expression darkens. not exactly the look you expect from the guy whose voice practically ruined half the internet last month with that infamous line about... well, yeah, better not go there right now.

“satoru, the brat got into a fight,” he growls into the phone, and suddenly, satoru’s jaw hits the floor with such force you can practically hear it from across the studio. toji doesn’t stick around for a reply, though — he’s already striding toward the door like a man with a purpose, ignoring satoru’s spluttered, “the what did who?”

and somehow — god knows how — you find yourself tagging along like it’s the most natural thing in the world. maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the thrill of seeing toji in full boss mode, or maybe it’s just because, oh, y’know, “responsible adult and responsibilities” instincts or whatever. 

but the further you walk, the more you realize that toji doesn’t mind you following one bit. in fact, he’s practically matching his pace to yours, as if you’re part of some unofficial escort mission to... whoever this “brat” is.

which, speaking of, who the hell is megumi?

you’re still trying to wrap your head around how this was supposed to be a “quick tour” of the office and not, somehow, an impromptu escort mission to the world’s sleekest car, a porsche 911 turbo — yep, that’s right, the kind of car you’ve only ever seen in movies where the bad guy’s got a mysterious, sexy side. all you can manage is, “you own this?”

toji shrugs, slipping his keys into the ignition with an air of pure, unbothered cool. “you don’t?”

oh. okay. 

you barely have time to process this response before he’s peeling out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a stray cat, a snail-paced truck, and an old lady who’s almost sacrificed her wig to his driving style. but hey, all part of the thrill, right?

definitely not questioning life choices here.

by the time you pull up to a cutesy primary school — you know, the kind with pastel-colored gates and cartoon murals of bears and rabbits — you’re genuinely confused. 

toji seems like the last guy who’d be here unless it was some undercover op. and “megumi,” whoever he is, sounds like he could be the school’s playground menace.

“wait, this is where we’re headed?” you ask, eyeing the building like it might suddenly make sense.

but toji’s out of the car, moving so fast you practically have to jog to keep up. the school secretary gives you both a wary glance, likely sensing the storm of exasperation radiating off toji, as he strides straight into the principal’s office. there, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl that screams “mini-toji,” is a little boy with spiky hair and an air of quiet defiance.

without missing a beat, toji asks, “megs! did you win?”

the principal, a kindly-looking woman whose expression is rapidly shifting from “calm mediator” to “i don’t get paid enough for this,” clears her throat. 

“mr. fushiguro, your son wasn’t... in the wrong, per se. it appears he was, um, defending his honor.”

defending his honor? you blink. what kind of second grader even knows what that means?

“that true, ‘gumi?” toji says, arms crossed, looking every bit the unbothered, proud dad of the year.

“he said my dad was a... weird voice actor,” megumi mutters, then shrugs. “so i said at least my dad works.”

you nearly choke, partly from stifled laughter, partly from the sheer absurdity of all this. here you were, thinking “honor” meant, like, taking down a playground empire or something. 

but no, megumi’s just a kid with a sharp tongue and a little too much of toji’s attitude.

“damn right, kid,” toji says, patting megumi’s head, then looking over at you with that familiar, annoyingly smug grin. “raised him right, yeah?”

“...sure,” you say, because what else can you even say at this point? it’s like you’ve stumbled into the weirdest sitcom ever, and the laugh track is somehow missing.

the principal’s expression morphs into something almost painfully polite as she addresses you, tiptoeing around the word wife with an impressive mix of caution and curiosity. 

“are you, ah... megumi’s guardian?”

and then, in perfect, unplanned harmony, you, toji, and megumi all blurt out, “no.”

the unity, the instinctual synchronization — it’s like you’re all on the same wavelength, for better or worse. soul-level understanding, or something. 

what the hell is happening right now?

with a polite smile and a “let’s never speak of this again” nod, you three finally leave the principal’s office. megumi, looking more bored than reprimanded, flicks at a speck of lint on his uniform, while you and toji attempt to navigate the hallway swarming with concerned teachers and worried front-desk ladies. and by “concerned” and “worried,” it’s more like they’re curious about toji’s parenting style and, let’s be honest, probably toji himself.

“oh, mr. fushiguro!” one particularly invested teacher coos, “we heard about the incident. is everything all right?”

toji, of course, laps up the attention, chuckling low and throwing in a wink here and there like he’s starring in some kind of action-movie dad role. the ladies are practically falling over themselves to get a response from him, their questions barely veiled as they assess you with raised brows and sideways glances, a classic “who’s she?” written all over their faces.

“and you are...?” one of the front-desk ladies finally asks, voice all sugar-coated and sharp.

toji slides in smoothly, cutting off whatever half-formed, awkward introduction you were about to stammer out. “oh, she’s a colleague,” he says, his tone effortlessly suave, like introducing a perfectly respectable coworker and totally not the author of his last, extremely explicit audiobook project.

you’re almost grateful until it hits you — this is the same guy who made a whole production of calling you “princess” in the recording booth just yesterday. 

as if he hasn’t played one of your absurdly corny dragon kings in all his full-throttle intensity. 

and now he’s here, all casual and cool, giving you a proper, respectable title like he hasn’t spent hours voicing content these people probably keep hidden under their pillows at night.

but at least he didn’t out you as the actual author of those… creative pieces. 

that’s something.

toji is out here, doing his social service to society. and no, it’s not about lending his voice to steamy audiobooks, thank you very much. 

today, he’s serving the community by providing these teachers with a generous five minutes of his attention, which they’ll probably be replaying in their heads until the next parent-teacher meeting. and — oh, what a surprise! — that’s exactly what they’re talking about now, circling back to how he must come to the next one for a “serious discussion” about megumi.

toji’s stance? why bother? if the kid’s acing his tests, staying out of trouble (mostly), and keeping a lid on the whole “honor” thing, why does he need to sit through hours of polite lecturing from the pta?

while he’s busy justifying his lack of parental enthusiasm, you feel a pair of eyes on you. glancing down, you meet megumi’s steady, curious stare. 

it’s oddly intense for a kid his age, but you’re not one to back down from a challenge. you narrow your eyes, feigning a critical, assessing look, and he visibly falters, going slightly pink around the ears.

ah, kids.

as you three make your way out of the building — toji still being all socialite with the staff and probably postponing that pta date indefinitely — you suddenly find yourself in a mini interview  with megumi. it’s as if this eight-year-old has appointed himself the gatekeeper of his dad’s life and has decided you’re the latest applicant.

“so… what’s your favorite color?” he asks, with an unblinking, serious stare.

“uh…” you pause, realizing the weight of your answer here. “blue. like, uh, light blue.”

he nods, considering. “good answer.”

a pause. “favorite superhero?”

“batman?” you try, glancing at him for a sign of approval.

“hmm. fine. but iron man would’ve been better.”

noted, you think, as he then moves to cereal brand, favorite animal, and even your preferred subject in school. you navigate each question as best as you can, almost feeling the burn of a final exam.

then, in a moment of quiet, just as you think the quiz is over, megumi looks down and asks, voice barely a whisper, “did i… do the right thing? defending my… my hone-er?”

“your… oh, honor?” you say, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth as you catch his wide-eyed, earnest gaze.

he nods, cheeks tinting a bit as he scuffs his sneaker on the ground.

“megumi,” you say, kneeling a little to get on his level, “defending your honor is important. just… maybe don’t go for all the punches next time? sometimes words work too.” you give him a playful nudge.

he nods, seeming satisfied with that answer, then glances over his shoulder. “and don’t tell daddy i asked.”

“your secret’s safe with me,” you whisper back, giving him a conspiratorial wink.

toji’s arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched the little interaction between you and megumi. 

he was always careful about the people around his kid, fiercely protective to the point that very few in his line of work even knew megumi existed. the only ones who had ever met him were gojo and geto — and that was already a stretch.

but something about how you handled the kid’s questions, actually entertained them with the same patience he’d usually summon up himself, caught him off guard. the way you knelt down to answer him, even kept a straight face through the hard-hitting topics of favorite superheroes and cereal brands... it was surprisingly nice. 

almost… reassuring?

ugh, what was he even thinking? you were still the same girl who’d written, and he mentally cringed as he remembered the line, 

“dragons may have claws, but they’re nothing compared to the grip i have on your…” 

yeah, yeah, he really didn’t need to finish that thought. the memory alone had him chuckling under his breath, shaking his head.

of course, that earned him a suspicious glance from both you and megumi.

“what’s so funny?” you asked, brow raised.

“yeah, daddy, why’re you laughing?” megumi chimed in, clearly puzzled.

toji waved a hand dismissively, realizing he’d just blown his cool for no reason. 

“nothin’, don’t worry about it. just thinkin’,” he mumbled, aware he’d probably looked a little unhinged just then. 

maybe he really needed to work on his awareness — or maybe he just needed to get a grip, period.

toji’s mind was doing somersaults, genuinely debating if he could manage both you and megumi tagging along for the afternoon. megumi’s insistence didn’t help; kid was determined that toji should keep you both company for the rest of the day, despite having school hours left. 

“you’ve got work, right?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious. “aren’t you supposed to be off doing big, important actor things?”

toji only smirked, whipping out his phone with the sort of confidence that made it clear he had a workaround for everything. he tapped open a message to gojo, fingers moving fast.

you [11:31 am]: hey. kid’s dragging me to the arcade. need a few hours off. gojo s. [11:33 am]: need or WANT, toji? ;)) you [11:31 am]: like i said, KID is dragging me. gojo s. [11:33 am]: oh sure, blame megumi. what, does he have you wrapped around his little finger or something? you [11:31 am]: think whatever you want, but you’re handling my schedule for the rest of the day. gojo s. [11:33 am]: wait, are you with...the AUTHOR? ;)) you [11:31 am]: quit smiling through text, it’s creepy. gojo s. [11:33 am]: i’ll allow it. but only cause i’m such a good friend.  gojo s. [11:33 am]: tell megumi uncle gojo says hi  gojo s. [11:34 am]: and he owes me 20 bucks. you [11:35 am]: he doesn’t owe you anything. gojo s. [11:35 am]: fine, but bring me something from the prize counter.

satisfied, toji pocketed his phone and shrugged. 

“all right, kid. we’ll hang out for a bit. but i swear if you drag me into any embarrassing games —”

“arcade!” megumi interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish. “i can show you both that i’m the best at every game! daddy taught me how to play, so you better watch out!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the kid’s enthusiasm.

“all right, let’s go. but you better not make me look bad, kid,” toji said, smirking down at his son, who was now practically vibrating with eagerness.

“arcade!” megumi yelled again, nearly bouncing as he grabbed your hand and began to lead the way.

megumi barely lets you settle into the leather of the passenger seat before he’s bouncing in the back, practically vibrating with energy as he plugs toji’s phone into the aux. you’re trying to wrap your head around being in toji fushiguro’s car, the man who not only voices the romantic lead in your steamiest, most dramatic book but also owns a luxury car that could probably pay off your loans twice over.

"so, uh... passenger princess, huh?" toji smirks, catching you in mid-thought.

"i… what?" you stammer, feeling the heat creep up as he settles a hand on the wheel with all the nonchalance in the world. “i, uh —” but you’re cut off by megumi excitedly blasting his choice of artist: korn.

"your son listens to korn?" you blurt out, giving toji a mix of awe and disbelief.

toji just raises an eyebrow, deadpanning, “yours doesn’t?”

ouch. okay, fair point. 

because no, you do not have a kid, or a husband, or even a boyfriend…or any romantic prospects, really. 

toji’s question leaves you fidgeting as you try to muster a dignified response.

meanwhile, megumi is full-on screaming to the lyrics of "freak on a leash," and you catch snippets like “something takes a part of me!” which, yeah, relatable — korn is honestly hitting the mood. but of course, toji catches you staring out the window, attempting to look casual as he throws you a side-eye.

"so, what’s got you without a boyfriend?” he asks, way too casually, as if this was a natural segue from whatever korn-fueled karaoke session is happening in the backseat.

you practically choke on air. "what, me? no, i’m...," you laugh awkwardly, shifting in the passenger seat. “besides, i don’t meet many guys. i'm just… you know… doing my thing.”

megumi, pausing his headbanging just for a moment, turns and looks at you with an exaggerated ‘yikes’ face, as if being single was the worst possible fate in his young, eight-year-old eyes. 

but then he shrugs, clearly uninterested in this adult drama and goes back to screaming, “feeling like a freak on a leash!”

toji, still watching you, smirks, “so, doing your ‘thing’ includes no boyfriend, no husband... what, are you just swearing off men?”

"uh, no!” you say quickly, too quickly, and feel your face heat up. “just haven’t... y’know, met anyone worth dating. been busy.”

toji gives a low chuckle, clearly entertained. “busy doing what, writing your ‘torrid love stories’?”

you make a face, biting your lip. 

“they’re not that torrid.” but even as you say it, you hear the echo of a particularly cheesy line you’d written for his character in your novel, which, mortifyingly enough, involved the phrase “my darling flame, you set my very soul alight.”

toji chuckles, as if reading your thoughts. “maybe i’ll get to hear one of those lines in real life someday, princess.”

“can we not call me that while megumi’s in the car?” you mutter, glancing back, only to find megumi fully engrossed in his self-proclaimed vocal talents.

“noted.” toji snickers, shooting you another mischievous look as korn plays on, megumi happily singing about “breaking down” in the back.

“but hey,” toji says smoothly, hand resting on the gearshift, “just so you know, even my son knows a good band when he hears one.”

you roll your eyes at him, managing to mumble, “at least one of you is a bit mature.”

the porsche pulls up to the arcade with enough fanfare that heads start turning even before the engine purrs to a stop. not that the onlookers were ready for what steps out next: a towering, chiseled man looking like he’s on his way to a modeling photoshoot, a cute kid in full confidence mode, and, well… you.

still feeling a little dizzy from the korn concert that just took place, you barely register megumi bolting out of the car with a grin, leaving you and toji to get your bearings. his energy’s practically crackling by the time toji pays for the play card, and you’re pretty sure if he has to wait even one more minute, he’s about to combust.

“okay, okay, slow down, megumi,” you say, trying to keep up as he yanks you to the nearest neon-lit game. 

but the kid isn’t hearing it. he’s already dragging you to one machine, and then the next, moving faster than you can process where you even are. each one is seemingly more intense and blinding than the last, and you’re hit with a sensory overload of neon lights, retro game sounds, and the feel of the arcade carpet sticking just a little too much to your shoes.

toji’s watching the whole ordeal with a bemused smirk. you and his kid are like a whirlwind of neon and laughter, barely stopping to catch your breaths between games. the sight is somehow… comforting. like a scene from a life he hadn’t planned but couldn’t help finding strangely compelling.

but then he catches himself. seriously? 

he shakes his head. this is not the time to get all sentimental over his kid’s new ‘playdate’ or whatever. 

he’s just here because megumi insisted, and maybe he thought it’d be amusing to watch you get dragged around by an eight-year-old with zero restraint. that’s it. 

nothing more.

yeah, right. his internal grumbling comes to an abrupt stop as he watches megumi take your hand and pull you over to a classic claw machine. the kid’s looking up at you with the widest eyes you’ve ever seen, all excitement and pure innocence, like winning one of those knockoff plush toys is the pinnacle of existence.

“you got this?” you ask, grinning at him as he lines up the claw with intense concentration.

“of course! my dad showed me,” he declares, like he’s about to go pro in the claw game league.

toji, watching from a distance, feels a twinge in his chest. 

yeah, he’d shown megumi how to play this game ages ago, more to give him an edge over the other kids than anything else. it was a dad-and-son thing, just the two of them. but seeing megumi look up at you with the same pride and excitement makes him feel… something. 

and he doesn’t know if he likes it.

you’re so focused on megumi’s moves that you don’t notice toji’s slight frown, nor do you hear his quiet mutter of, “this is ridiculous.” 

but when he sees the way your eyes light up as megumi successfully nabs a cheap stuffed animal — a lopsided dinosaur, of all things — and the way you celebrate like he’s won an olympic medal, he feels himself relax, just a little.

he chuckles, shaking his head and crossing his arms as you high-five megumi, both of you beaming over a prize that probably cost less than the game itself. but toji doesn’t move. 

he stands there, rooted, as you two bounce from game to game, his thoughts too jumbled to focus on anything else.

but maybe… maybe that’s okay for now.

toji’s phone buzzes just as he’s leaning against the side of a vintage racing game, watching you and megumi practically lighting up the whole arcade with your laughter. he glances down to see satoru’s name pop up on the screen, already feeling a headache brewing.

gojo s. [12:20 pm]: so, arcade? 😏 you [12:20 pm]: yeah, i just told you. gojo s. [12:20 pm]: nah, i mean WHY the arcade? what are we celebrating here, toji? ;)) you [12:21 pm]: why does it matter gojo s. [12:21 pm]: CUZZZZ gojo s. [12:21 pm]: lemme guess, megumi's there with her now, right?  gojo s. [12:22 pm]: bet they’re having the time of their lives, while YOU gojo s. [12:22 pm]: you’re just there all moody on the sidelines😔

toji glances up at you and megumi, who’ve now moved on to a skee-ball machine, both cheering as you score a perfect 50-point throw.

you [12:23 pm]: like i said, work stuff. gojo s. [12:24 pm]: HAHA. work stuff, right.  gojo s. [12:24 pm]: work stuff that has megumi running around grinning like that.  gojo s. [12:25 pm]: bro gojo s. [12:25 pm]: you’re terrible at lying.  gojo s. [12:26 pm]: she’s a keeper if she can deal with YOU you [12:26 pm]: keep dreaming.

he slips his phone back into his pocket, unable to shake off the grin creeping onto his face as he watches you high-five megumi. the kid’s happier than he’s seen in ages, and he…

well, he can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed watching anyone just being with his kid.

toji stands back, taking in the moment — megumi’s laughter echoing through the arcade, your smile as you lift him up with an ease that has the kid giggling uncontrollably — and for some reason, his mind has turned the whole scene into a rom-com montage.

you are the dancing queen…

it’s absurd, really. 

he doesn’t even like abba. but there it is, the stupid song playing in his head, all set to the image of you holding his son, twirling him like he weighs nothing, both of you in fits of laughter.

young and sweet, only seventeen…

and for a split second, his heart does this awkward little stutter. 

he chalks it up to the neon lights. 

or maybe the greasy smell of the arcade food messing with his senses. but as he watches you hold megumi up, almost as if he’s flying, he can’t ignore that ridiculous, cheesy pull in his chest.

feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah...

oh god. 

is he seriously catching himself grinning at the way you’re both trying to get him to join in? megumi’s little hand reaches out, beckoning him over, and you’re giving him that smile, that “come on, get over here, big guy” look.

you can dance, you can jive…

the song hits that soaring note in his head just as he finally gives in and starts to walk over, and his pulse actually picks up, as if he’s not just at some run-down arcade but in the middle of some ridiculously sappy rom-com finale.

having the time of your life…

and then megumi is shrieking again, calling, “dad, hurry up!” like it’s life or death, and you’re beaming at him with that mischievous, encouraging look.

toji sighs, shaking his head at himself. 

just great. 

the two of you have officially dragged him into your world, soundtrack and all.

toji's trying his best to lock in. 

but as he walks out of the arcade — juggling not one, but four oversized plushies, two fancy new lego sets, a slinky, a bouncy ball, some glow-in-the-dark slime, and a rainbow slap bracelet — he can’t help but snort at the sheer ridiculousness of it. 

between his loaded arms and megumi curled up fast asleep in yours, it’s a scene straight out of one of those cheesy family movies.

he shakes his head, trying to push down that weirdly warm feeling creeping up on him. 

stay focused, toji. 

he doesn't need any sappy feelings right now. he's a single dad with a kid and a job, not some washed-up rom-com character, damn it. 

but watching you gently adjust megumi as he drools onto your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the crook of your arm as you carefully slide into the backseat, it’s hard not to feel that tug again.

ugh, he thinks, climbing into the driver’s seat as you buckle up up front, giving him a soft, tired smile. 

“never held a kid before, huh?” he teases, eyes glancing from the road to the rearview mirror, where megumi’s still dozing, soft breaths muffling against your arm.

“nope,” you shrug, but there’s a softness to your voice as you gently rub megumi’s back, “first time for everything, i guess.”

toji’s heart does that weird skip thing again. 

oh god, he thinks, gripping the wheel a little tighter as he tries to ignore the sappy old man vibe overtaking him.

the air in the car feels... charged, but it’s not like either of you are exactly leaning into the tension. instead, you both sit in this weird, awkward silence, save for the quiet hum of the radio, like you’re suddenly too aware of just being there with each other.

and then, as if the universe wanted to toy with you, iris by the goo goo dolls starts playing. 

oh, god. you immediately wish you could just evaporate into the passenger seat.

“...and i’d give up forever to touch you…” the lyrics croon, filling the silence, and you can practically feel the heat crawling up your cheeks.

toji clears his throat, obviously catching it too. “radio’s on a roll, huh?”

“yep,” you say, managing a weak laugh. “i mean, this is classic… everyone listens to goo goo dolls in, uh, total silence in the car with their coworker, right?”

he glances at you, a rare, subtle smile ghosting on his lips. “totally normal.”

“and i don’t want the world to see me… ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

you glance out the window, eyes focused anywhere but on him, biting back a laugh at how the song somehow keeps getting more dramatic. like, who’s writing this scene, seriously?

“just tell me where to turn,” toji says, breaking through your internal monologue, and you do, mentioning a landmark close to home, hoping he’ll take the hint.

but toji only raises an eyebrow. “near it? nah. i’m dropping you at the door.”

“oh, no, that’s really fine —” you start, but he’s already shaking his head.

“don’t worry about it,” he insists, a smirk in his voice. “besides, i remember where you live. from, you know… last time.”

wait. last time? as in… when you were embarrassingly, unapologetically wasted that night?

you want to crawl under the seat as the lyrics continue, “when everything’s made to be broken…”

so when toji pulls up in front of your apartment, there’s this odd feeling hanging in the air. you catch yourself wanting to... linger, just a little longer, even if you’re home. 

and lowkey? 

so does toji. 

it’s like the two of you have hit this weird teenage crush level of awkward — just leaning, leaning, like there’s some invisible string pulling you closer.

he’s looking at you, and you’re looking at him, and you’re both just… stuck there. you can’t even bring yourself to reach for the door handle, and it’s the same for him.

but right as the moment peaks, a tiny, innocent voice cuts through from the backseat. “are you two going to kiss?”

megumi’s question hangs there, blunt and childlike, breaking whatever spell had you both frozen. you both jolt back, blinking as if you just woke up.

“what? no!” you blurt, practically tripping over your own denial. 

your face feels like it’s about to catch fire.

toji coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, just barely suppressing a chuckle.

“kid’s got a helluva imagination,” he mutters, eyes anywhere but on you.

as you finally reach for the door handle, ready to slip out and say your goodbyes, you hear a little sniffle from the backseat.

“wait…” megumi’s voice is tiny, almost shaky. you turn around, and to your surprise, his face is scrunched up, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s trying so hard to hold back.

“hey, hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, twisting around in your seat to face him. “i’ll see you again, kiddo.”

but his lower lip wobbles, and suddenly he bursts into full-on tears, clutching the giant plushie he won at the arcade. “b-but i don’t want you to leave!” he sobs, voice cracking. “can’t you stay just a little longer?”

toji’s eyes widen; he looks genuinely shocked. 

“megumi, you’re fine, she’s not going anywhere forever. what’s gotten into you?” he tries to keep his tone steady, but there’s an undercurrent of surprise. 

megumi doesn’t cry. 

ever. 

this is new territory.

megumi just shakes his head, burying his face into the plushie. “but she’s nice,” he mumbles, muffled but insistent. “and she plays games with me and —” he peeks out from the plushie with red, teary eyes. “and she talks to me like you do.”

you feel something stir in your chest at his words, this overwhelming urge to hug him even though you’d sworn up and down just an hour ago you didn’t know how to handle kids.

“aw, megumi,” you say softly, reaching over and giving his little hand a squeeze. “i’ll still see you, i promise. maybe we can even play again sometime, okay?”

“but you’re leaving now,” he says, his voice quivering, clutching your hand with a desperation that tugs at your heart. 

“and daddy didn’t even kiss you.”

the absolute silence that follows is deafening. 

you feel your face go redder than it’s ever been, and a glance at toji shows he’s equally flustered, mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find some way to steer this conversation back to normal.

“whoa, hey now,” toji says, forcing a laugh as he clears his throat. “that’s, uh — that’s not how it works, kid.” he ruffles megumi’s hair a little too hard, clearly floundering. “and hey, don’t go crying over someone just leaving for the night, you’re stronger than that.”

“i don’t care,” megumi sniffles, clutching your hand tighter. “i like her. and she makes you smile.”

toji freezes, the color draining from his face for just a split second. 

makes him smile. 

he doesn’t even realize he’s been smiling, maybe more in one day than he has in months. he glances at you, brow furrowed like he’s trying to make sense of it himself.

“well…” toji’s voice is softer now, almost cautious, like he’s testing out words he hasn’t said in a long time. “

maybe… maybe she could come around again. if she wants to, that is.”

“i do.” you answer without thinking, your gaze drifting to megumi’s tear-streaked face, which immediately lights up.

“really?” megumi’s eyes shine, practically bouncing in his seat. “you promise?”

“i promise,” you say with a smile, giving him a reassuring nod. “as long as it’s okay with you and your dad, of course.”

“’s fine,” toji grumbles, running a hand over his face to hide his slight grin. “besides, someone’s gotta teach you a lesson or two at the arcade next time.”

“is that a challenge, toji?” you quip, smirking. “because if i remember right, megumi here got more tickets than both of us combined.”

“that’s because i taught him everything he knows,” toji scoffs, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this.

megumi sniffles one last time, his eyes practically glowing with happiness. “then… you’ll come over soon, right?”

“absolutely,” you say, warmth bubbling up in your chest as you meet his hopeful gaze. “but only if you promise to keep practicing at the arcade. gotta keep that winning streak going, right?”

megumi grins, finally letting go of your hand as he settles back with a contented sigh. “deal.”

toji just shakes his head, muttering something about the “drama” gene clearly skipping a generation, though the smile tugging at his lips says otherwise.

as you unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to say goodbye, you feel the car click with the unmistakable sound of the child lock. you glance back at megumi, who’s nodding off against his plushie pile, and back at toji, who’s already climbing out to walk you up to your door. 

gentlemanly of him, sure. 

though, the way his eyes linger on you… there’s more to it than that.

“i could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say, falling into step beside him as you head up to your building. “it’s not that far.”

“maybe i just felt like making sure you didn’t trip and embarrass yourself,” he shoots back, smirking as he nudges your shoulder.

“very chivalrous, fushiguro,” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning anyway. “honestly, you’re like a walking textbook definition of ‘gentleman.’”

“yeah, well,” he clears his throat, looking just a bit smug. “maybe i was raised right. or maybe,” his voice drops a little lower, “i just wanted an excuse to stick around a little longer.”

you blink, caught off guard by the soft rasp in his voice, the way his eyes are just a bit darker under the porch light.

“oh,” is all you manage, though your heartbeat’s doing a little somersault. “well… uh. here’s my door.”

“guess it is,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he takes a step closer, leaning against the doorframe like he’s meant to be there, like he’s settled in the idea of being right here, with you. 

“y’know… not a bad place to end the night.”

“yeah,” you say, feeling the words catch in your throat as you gaze up at him, taking in every detail, every shadow. “definitely not bad.”

the two of you are just standing there, a little too close, the space between you narrowing with every unspoken word. he glances down at your lips, and your pulse spikes — he’s thinking it too, right? but just as the moment seems to reach its tipping point, toji smirks, a flash of mischief in his eyes.

“you know,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “still can’t believe you’re the same girl who wrote that… what was it again?” he chuckles, clearly remembering. “oh, right — ‘her legs wrapped around him like a vice, his name spilling from her lips like honey’.”

your face goes nuclear. 

that line. 

of all the lines, that one?

“you… you remember that?” you manage, mortified.

“’course i remember,” he says, that smug smirk firmly in place. “you think i just skimmed through your stuff?”

“well — i — ” your words are a mess, barely coherent. “i mean, i just thought —”

“nah, i’ve been reading it all.” his voice is low, almost a whisper as he leans just a little closer, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “you’ve got quite the imagination.”

“s-shut up,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “i was just… doing my job.”

“i know,” he says, voice soft but unyielding. “you’ve got talent.”

there’s a beat, silence stretching between you, the weight of his words settling over the both of you.

“...and you’ve got this whole heartthrob thing going for you,” you blurt out, finally meeting his eyes with a nervous laugh. “kind of makes it hard to believe you’re my colleague.”

“heartthrob, huh?” he smirks, voice dipping lower as his fingers drift to your chin, tilting your face up. 

“so that’s what you think of me?”

“i — i mean…” you stammer, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, feeling your cheeks burn. “maybe a little. just… a tiny bit.”

“tiny?” he murmurs, his lips barely an inch away. “could’ve sworn you looked a little more than just ‘tiny’ interested.”

“oh yeah?” your voice is a whisper now, almost breathless as you feel his breath on your skin, his gaze never wavering. “what if i was?”

“then i’d probably do this,” he mutters, his hand sliding up to cradle your face, and before you know it, his lips are on yours, soft and warm and impossibly gentle.

your breath catches, and instinctively, you lean into him, letting his kiss deepen, his hand tracing slow, lazy patterns against your cheek. it’s everything you’d imagined and somehow even better, his presence grounding and electric all at once.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes soft but searching. “so… do i still get to be a heartthrob?”

“only if i still get to be the girl with the cringe smut,” you murmur back, grinning like an idiot.

“deal,” he says, chuckling as he pulls you in for another kiss, his lips brushing yours like a promise.

ah, shit.

as toji slips back into the car, he barely manages to close the door before megumi’s voice hits him like a lightning bolt.

“daddy kissed the pretty lady!” megumi shrieks, pointing an accusatory finger from the backseat. “i saw it! you have that weird face on!”

toji’s eyebrows shoot up. “weird face? what weird face?” he tries to play it cool, adjusting the rearview mirror, but the ghost of that kiss is still painted on his lips, his pulse betraying him with every beat.

“that smile,” megumi says, wrinkling his nose in a perfect mirror of his dad’s usual expression of disdain. “you look like a… like a…” he pauses, searching for the right words. “...like a love puppy!”

toji chokes, stifling a laugh. “a love puppy? where the hell did you get that from?”

“it’s a thing, daddy,” megumi huffs, crossing his arms. “you have that goofy look, and your face is all soft. you only look like that when you’re being weird.”

“me? weird?” toji glances in the mirror, catching megumi’s glare. “kid, i think you’ve got this all wrong.”

“no, i don’t!” megumi insists, practically bouncing in his seat. “you were all ‘goo-goo eyes’ and ‘smoochy-smoochy’ and ‘mwah mwah mwah!’” he makes exaggerated kissing sounds, complete with squished-up lips and hand gestures, utterly scandalized by his dad’s sudden transformation.

“alright, alright, enough with the ‘mwah mwah.’” toji tries to suppress a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “you’ve been watching too many cartoons.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression serious. “nope. i knew it. i knew you liked her.” he narrows his eyes, as if seeing through toji’s very soul. “so… are you gonna marry her?”

toji’s eyes go wide. 

“whoa, whoa, hold on. nobody said anything about marriage.”

“but if you kiss someone, that means you wanna be with them forever, right?” megumi asks earnestly, looking way too wise for his age.

toji stares ahead, caught off-guard by the kid’s earnestness. 

that kiss… he didn’t plan it. he didn’t even know he was going to do it until he’d leaned in, felt the spark pull him closer. but now? 

yeah, the idea of just walking away feels… wrong. he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his mind racing.

“kid, sometimes people just… feel things, okay?” he says, his voice softer, more introspective. “even if they don’t really know why.”

megumi tilts his head, watching his dad closely. “so you do like her, then?”

toji snorts, pulling the car out onto the road. “alright, detective, settle down back there. no more snooping.”

they drive in a comfortable silence for a moment, but the radio has other plans. 

as if on cue, the familiar, aching chords of iris by the goo goo dolls come through the speakers, and toji swears he could feel the universe laughing at him.

“and i don’t want the world to see me, ’cause i don’t think that they’d understand…”

toji clenches his jaw, feeling the lyrics press into him, each line stirring something restless and warm in his chest. he’s always been a guy with his walls up, always knew the stakes were too high to let anyone in. 

but tonight… tonight, he let his guard down. just for a second. 

he kissed you, tasted the softness of your lips, and the spark left him reeling.

“when everything’s meant to be broken, i just want you to know who i am…”

“daddy?” megumi’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “do you think… maybe you could see her again? so she could come play with us?”

toji blinks, glancing at megumi in the rearview mirror. “you really like her, huh?”

megumi nods vigorously. “yeah! she’s… nice. and fun.” his face softens. “and… she made you look happy.”

toji’s heart gives a strange, unfamiliar twist at that. 

happy, huh? 

he’s been around the block long enough to know that happiness isn’t exactly his best friend. but sitting here, listening to megumi, feeling that residual warmth from your kiss… it makes him wonder. 

wonder what life could look like with you in it.

but he pushes the thought away, focusing on the road. doesn’t change the fact that you’re just his colleague. right?

“and i’d give up forever to touch you…”

ugh.

he shifts uncomfortably, hoping megumi doesn’t notice his knuckles going white on the steering wheel. 

that kiss wasn’t just some fleeting thing — he’d known it the second he felt the warmth of you linger even after pulling away. the idea of letting you go now feels… impossible. something’s tugging him back, making him want more.

“hey, daddy,” megumi pipes up again, breaking toji’s brooding. “you got that look again.”

“what look?” toji mutters, trying to focus on anything but the goofy grin creeping back onto his face.

megumi smirks, mimicking toji’s soft expression. “that ‘i kissed a pretty lady’ look!”

toji laughs, shaking his head as he glances at megumi in the rearview mirror. “alright, alright. i guess you caught me.”

and as he drives home, the final notes of iris playing softly through the car, he can’t shake the feeling that this… whatever this is… isn’t something he’s ready to let go of.

ah, shit.

as soon as toji sets megumi down on his bed, tucking him in amongst the mountain of ridiculous plushies he’d somehow won at the arcade, he heads back to his room. sliding his phone out, he finds himself doing something he never thought he’d do: texting gojo. of all people.

with a reluctant sigh, he taps out a message, feeling a pang of embarrassment he can’t shake.

you [8:47 pm]: how long’s her contract with gojo sonic?

a moment later, he watches the screen, regretting even reaching out. but, of course, gojo wastes no time with a reply.

gojo s. [8:50 pm]: ohohohohooooo her contract???  gojo s. [8:50 pm]: i knew it. you’re smitten. you [8:51 pm]: don’t start. gojo s. [8:51 pm]: too late! c’mon, dish it out, big guy.  gojo s. [8:51 pm]: you guys had a moment, huh? the chemistry finally snapped? what’d ya do, kiss her?

toji clenches his jaw, hesitating before typing back. his thumb hovers, wondering how much grief he’d get for saying yes. finally, he mutters a curse under his breath and just goes for it.

you [8:53 pm]: ...yeah, i kissed her. happy?

he can practically feel gojo’s cackle vibrating through the phone.

gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WHAT???  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: WAIT.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: oh, i need details.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: full play-by-play.  gojo s. [8:53 pm]: like was it one of those slow, cinematic moments?  gojo s. [8:54 pm]: or was it a grab and smooch kinda deal??

toji rolls his eyes, fighting off a grin he refuses to admit is there. of all the reactions, he’d been prepared for gojo’s nosiness, but it’s still as annoying as ever.

you [8:55 pm]: shut it. i already said too much. gojo s. [8:55 pm]: pfffff as if i’m letting you get away with that tidbit and no context.  gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did she look at you all wide-eyed?  gojo s. [8:55 pm]: did you do that thing with your voice??  gojo s. [8:56 pm]: or was it just an accidental, “oh no, we tripped into each other’s faces” sorta thing?

toji rubs his temples, trying to block out how much his stupid heart rate picks up just remembering the way you looked up at him, the softness of your lips, the way it all felt so natural. he shakes his head, forcing the memory aside.

you [8:57 pm]: none of your business, and it’s private.  you [8:57 pm]: don’t you dare send any of this to suguru. gojo s. [8:57 pm]: oh relax! suguru’s not that nosy.  gojo s. [8:57 pm]: okay maybe he is.  gojo s. [8:58 pm]: but he’s a romantic.  gojo s. [8:58 pm]: think of it as getting free relationship coaching!! you [9:00 pm]: i swear to god satoru i’ll leave the company if you spill this.

there’s a pause, and for a second toji hopes that maybe he’s scared gojo off. 

but, predictably, the next message makes his blood pressure spike.

gojo s. [9:05 pm]: ohhhhh no no you’re not getting off that easy.  gojo s. [9:05 pm]: i’m calling dibs on being the flower girl at your wedding. suguru can be the maid of honor.  gojo s. [9:06 pm]: no nvm he’d wanna be the best man gojo s. [9:06 pm]: I’LL GET MEGUMI TO CARRY THE RINGS gojo s. [9:06 pm]: genius.

toji practically growls at his phone, already regretting every second of this conversation.

you [9:07 pm]: i’ll delete this whole damn thread. this never happened, got it? gojo s. [9:09 pm]: aww, toji bear, don’t be like that. i’ll take care of your little love story for you, promise. consider me your personal wingman.  gojo s. [9:10 pm]: now tell me this — when’s round two of smooch central happening? you [9:11 pm]: goodnight, satoru.

and with that, he shoves his phone onto his nightstand, rubbing his face with a hand. he can still feel the lingering warmth of that kiss, the way his heart skipped, the unexpected tenderness that’s lodged itself in his mind. 

stupid.

he shouldn’t have even told gojo.

but as much as he regrets letting it slip, he doesn’t regret the kiss itself. 

not even a bit.

as soon as you slam your door shut, you just… stand there for a minute, heart racing, and press your fingers to your lips like it’ll somehow reverse what just happened. 

you kissed toji fushiguro. 

the toji fushiguro.

colleague extraordinaire, with biceps that could probably benchpress your entire life’s savings, and that smirk… oh god, that smirk that had you in a daze.

but the problem? 

there was a mini him there. 

a little him with matching black hair and a sharp gaze. 

you thought he was, like, the cool uncle? but… he’s a dad? 

and if he’s a dad… does that mean he’s married? are you the other woman?!

you pace around, practically stomping into the carpet. 

“okay, okay, let’s think this through,” you mutter, putting your hands on your hips. 

“he… he could be a single dad, right? it’s 2024, it’s not that weird for people to have kids without, like, commitment commitments. but then again, he does look like the type who’d… i don’t know, maybe be exclusive? probably?”

your brain is racing, and you’re spinning yourself into circles. 

“i mean, i haven’t seen a ring on his finger… but maybe he just doesn’t wear it?” you plop down on your couch, practically sinking into it as you cover your face with both hands.

ugh.

“did i just kiss a married man? or worse… what if he’s, like, engaged? or has a live-in girlfriend? or — oh my god, what if he’s in some high-profile relationship and i just stepped into the middle of it? —”

you groan, flopping back. “but he… he definitely leaned in first. i’m not hallucinating. he did! but then, if he’s that willing to kiss me, does that mean he’s… a cheater?”

you sit up and shake your head, wide-eyed. “okay, no, i refuse to believe that toji fushiguro, mr. brooding and brooding-er with a kid who listens to korn, is a cheater. there’s no way… right?”

your own voice is almost pleading as you try to convince yourself, pacing again. 

“i mean, maybe he’s just… really, really committed to… being mysterious. yeah, that makes sense. he’s keeping everything a secret, so that just leaves me spiraling about him… perfect. just perfect.”

you smack a hand against your forehead. “why couldn’t i have asked literally any of this earlier?” you shake your head. “right, because i was too busy kissing him.”

you throw yourself back onto the couch and stare at the ceiling, the whole thing replaying in your head. 

that look he gave you, the warmth of his hand on your back…

stop.

but it’s too late. your brain keeps running with it.

“what if… what if he has no idea i’m freaking out?” you frown. “oh, he probably doesn’t. and here i am, making a whole drama out of one kiss.” you let out a deep sigh.

you flop onto your bed, heart still pounding, and stare up at the ceiling, fingers absently grazing your lips. 

burning loins, they said. melting from one kiss, they said. 

well, no one exactly said that — except every steamy novel you’ve ever read or written, but that’s beside the point.

you groan, kicking your feet up in frustration. this isn’t one of your own novels! it’s supposed to be real life! but now here you are, in the aftermath of what was arguably the best kiss you’ve ever had, practically combusting at the memory of it.

“if one kiss with toji — no, any man — can get me this hot and bothered, how am i supposed to handle it if i ever… you know…” your voice trails off, and you turn over, burying your face into the pillow as if it’ll smother the absurd train of thought. 

but then, just as you start to get your mind off it, his face pops back up in your head.

“oh god,” you mumble, pulling the pillow over your face. “this is pathetic.” you roll over again, laughing helplessly to yourself. 

if this is what one or two kisses do to me… what’ll happen if we actually have sex?

your eyes snap open. “okay, no. no! i didn’t mean toji, i meant, like… any guy! any guy at all! but, oh god, why is it always him?!”

you stare at the ceiling, huffing as your brain keeps looping back to him. 

his stupidly attractive smirk, the way his hand was firm but gentle on your back, how he looked at you as if you were his next breath. 

girl, get a grip.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, swatting at your face like it’ll erase his image from your mind. but it doesn’t work; he’s right there, all hot and smug in your imagination. ugh, this isn’t fair!

it’s like all those countless hours you spent spinning erotic fantasies are coming back to haunt you — and in the most inconvenient, infuriating way possible. you scrunch up your face, realizing with mild horror that maybe… just maybe… you wrote this scenario into existence for yourself.

“oh no… is this karma?” you groan, curling up and swatting the air in helpless embarrassment. “girl, this is not supposed to happen in real life. or with toji.”

but there it is: his face, and your wildly racing heart, and the undeniable, excruciating heat pooling in your belly that refuses to quit.

but even with the spiraling, there’s one thing you can’t deny: as much as it’s driving you crazy, as much as you’re practically scaring yourself into thinking you’ve just made the worst mistake of your life…

you kinda don’t regret it. and that’s the scariest part.

ah, shit.

you step into gojo-sonic, clutching your bag with a little more intensity than usual, and it’s as if you’ve entered an alternate dimension. 

the energy is somehow… different. you expect to be greeted with the usual casual nods and waves, but instead, gojo is practically skipping toward you, arms spread wide like he’s welcoming the new queen of the recording studio.

“there she is! our star of the show, our resident heart-throb wrangler!” he coos, louder than necessary. his grin is blinding, and you’re caught between the urge to backpedal out of the building or dive under the nearest desk.

“uh… good morning?” you reply, more like a question than a statement, glancing around to see if anyone else is picking up on his hyperness. it’s like he’s had twelve cups of coffee or ten bags of skittles. “gojo, you’re… kind of extra today.”

“extra? extra?” he throws a hand over his heart, eyes gleaming. “honey, i’m never just ‘extra.’ i am exactly the right amount of gojo for the occasion.”

“and what occasion is that, exactly?”

“oh, nothing much, just a certain someone having an… enlightening encounter last night,” he says with a wink so exaggerated it looks like he’s trying to shoo a bug off his face.

you stiffen. “wait, how do you…?”

“oh, come on,” he waves it off, laughing. “you think you can keep something like that from me? i mean, i might be blessed with an enormous amount of talent, looks, and charisma, but i also happen to have eyes and ears everywhere.” he taps his temple, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

“seriously?” you glance around, your stomach sinking a little, looking for any sign of smirking coworkers or curious eyes, but everyone’s just… normal? going about their business, not sparing you a second glance. relief washes over you, only to be swept away by gojo’s piercing stare.

“oh, don’t worry. i haven’t shared your scandalous rendezvous with the world. only i am privy to this delightful information — for now,” he adds, wagging a finger. “and don’t look so shocked! nothing juicy stays hidden from me for long. i know all the company secrets.”

you feel heat rise to your cheeks, equal parts exasperated and embarrassed. “gojo, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. it’s not like…” you trail off, realizing he’s hanging on to your every word, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“uh-huh,” he drawls, drawing the word out. “not a big deal, you say? then why do you look like you’re about to start sweating bullets?”

“i’m not sweating bullets,” you say through clenched teeth, then give in and sigh. “look, we just… it was just a… i mean, we’re colleagues, and things got a little… friendly. it doesn’t have to mean anything!”

gojo gasps, mock-horrified. “oh, but darling, this is precisely why it’s so interesting! you, of all people, getting caught up with toji fushiguro? and here i thought you’d sworn off office romances.”

“it’s not an office romance,” you insist, voice practically a whisper. “we just… kissed. once. or twice. maybe. but it doesn’t mean anything!”

gojo leans in, conspiratorially. “and yet you look ready to combust from the inside out just talking about it.”

you huff, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “maybe it’s because someone is making this into a bigger deal than it actually is.”

“you wound me!” he presses a hand dramatically to his chest, giving you an exaggerated pout. “but don’t worry, your little secret is safe with me. i only told you so you’d know that i know. and, you know, to make things extra awkward in case mr. heart-throb walks in.”

“oh, so you’re really just out to make my life difficult?”

he grins, all teeth. “precisely.”

just then, as if summoned by some cruel twist of fate, toji strolls in. he’s the absolute picture of normalcy, no hint whatsoever of last night’s… moment. 

in fact, he gives you a polite nod, a polite nod, as if he hadn’t had you pressed against your own door just hours ago.

“morning,” he says casually, voice smooth, tone nonchalant. he doesn’t even so much as smirk.

you nearly choke. polite nod? normal greeting? did he forget the entire thing? 

“oh, morning,” you manage, clearing your throat, feeling like you’re about to combust again.

gojo, however, is having the time of his life. he’s practically vibrating next to you, watching the exchange with glee.

“morninggg, fushiguro,” he greets toji, voice syrupy with unrestrained glee. “any exciting news today?”

toji raises an eyebrow, shooting him a confused look. “uh, no? everything’s pretty normal.” his eyes flick over to you, calm, almost neutral, as if he hadn’t kissed you senseless just last night.

you clench your jaw. is he really going to act like this? you nearly feel like gaslighting yourself into thinking last night never happened. maybe you just dreamed it, right?

toji’s gaze flicks away from you, unperturbed, as he moves over to get his things ready for the day’s recording. and that’s when gojo leans over and mutters under his breath, “you sure you don’t want to just… remind him?”

“i hate you,” you mutter back, trying not to smile, knowing that he’s secretly rooting for you to fall flat on your face with this whole ordeal.

“i live for your misery, my friend,” he replies with a wink.

meanwhile, toji was absolutely in another dimension of romcom chaos himself, feeling like some kind of high school kid who just had his first crush. he woke up grinning, actually giggling as he got dressed. 

giggling. when was the last time he did that? 

he nearly skipped out the door, and on his drive to work, he found himself humming, humming, to his car stereo like some lovestruck fool. and he didn’t stop there. oh no. 

by the time he reached gojo-sonic, he’d already run through a few extra vocal warm-ups in the car — something he never did this early. he cleared his throat and ran through his usual lines twice, even testing his pitch a bit. no, not because he wanted to be extra smooth today, of course not. he was doing it for the… for the paycheck. 

definitely.

but as soon as he walked into the studio, and he saw you standing there beside gojo, looking all kinds of pretty and polished… he practically heard violins. except no, it wasn’t violins. 

it was, somehow, worse.

his mind cued up dancing queen.

“no. nope. nope.” he muttered under his breath, trying to swat the ridiculous soundtrack out of his mind. but it wouldn’t stop. 

“dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine, oh, yeah….”

why, in the name of all things sacred, was his brain doing this to him? he was toji fushiguro, not some idiot falling over his own feet for a girl at work. he gave himself a good shake, squared his shoulders, and tried to keep his composure. yet every time he caught your eye, his chest did a little flip — and dammit if he didn’t want to just pick you up and give you another kiss right then and there.

“morning,” he forced out, nodding as casually as he could.

and there you were, gaping back with that hint of nervousness, looking like you might combust from just a regular “good morning.” 

god, it was almost cute enough to make him actually laugh out loud.

“she’s just a colleague,” he reminded himself, over and over again, as he worked to keep the grin off his face. “a colleague. not some romcom lead you just made out with in front of her apartment.”

yet the way dancing queen kept droning in his head, as if mocking his every move? toji was seriously questioning whether he’d woken up in some kind of alternate reality.

and he just knew gojo was watching the whole thing with a smug look, likely dying to crack a joke, or worse, belt out dancing queen if he somehow figured out what was in toji’s head. 

and knowing gojo? he probably already had.

the studio door clicked shut as gojo swept out with an exaggerated bow, holding up his finger in a silent “one minute” before he launched into his call with suguru in a voice loud enough to be heard two floors down. gojo was probably already going on about the “incredible chemistry” between his favorite team members, or whatever nonsense he’d decided on for today. 

and with him out of the room, it was just you and toji. 

alone. 

in silence.

you shifted on your feet, eyes darting everywhere except directly at him, yet somehow landing right back on him. it was like your brain had a toji magnet switched on, and no matter how hard you tried to look elsewhere, you found yourself glancing back at him.

finally, the quiet got so charged that you both ended up blurting out at the exact same time —

“are you single?”

you both froze, then looked at each other, wide-eyed, like you couldn’t believe you’d just asked that out loud.

“uh,” toji coughed, scratching the back of his neck. “well. yeah, i am. single, that is.

“oh.” you tried to act cool, but it came out as a slightly breathless squeak. “good to know.”

“and you?” he asked, voice low, almost cautious, as if bracing himself for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“also single,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “which… is also good to know.”

there was a beat of quiet where you both just kind of looked at each other, a half-smile creeping onto his face as you kept shifting on your feet, practically melting under the intensity of his gaze.

“so…” you cleared your throat, your hands fidgeting a little as you gathered the nerve to ask the next thing. “didn’t know you had a kid.”

“oh, yeah.” toji chuckled, a hint of fondness lighting up his expression as he thought of his son. “he’s my kid, alright. handful and a half, that one.”

“he’s adorable.” you smiled, thinking back to the mini toji who had totally stolen your heart. “how old is he?”

“eight.” toji’s voice softened, a rare warmth in his tone that you’d never heard before. “he, uh… he means a lot to me. not that i’d ever tell him that, though. don’t want him thinking he’s got me wrapped around his little finger or anything.”

you laughed, picturing the little boy with his big grin and fearless energy. “something tells me he already knows.”

“yeah, probably.” toji laughed too, and for a moment, there was an ease between you, a shared warmth that made the whole moment feel so… natural.

“so… um, are you, like… a single dad?” you asked, careful with your words, not wanting to pry too deeply.

“yeah.” his answer was simple, but there was a weight to it. “just me and the kid. been that way for a while.”

“that’s…” you bit your lip, not sure what to say without sounding weirdly sentimental. “that’s admirable. megumi’s lucky to have you.

“i don’t know about all that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the praise but unable to hide a small smile. “just doing what i can, you know?”

“still,” you said, feeling a swell of admiration you hadn’t expected. “it’s impressive. and honestly… seeing you with him yesterday? it was… kinda heartwarming.”

toji looked at you, eyes softening in a way that made your heart stutter. 

“thanks,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “means a lot, hearing that.”

the two of you stood there, closer than you realized, in this weird bubble where everything felt warm and intense and perfect. just as you felt that strange magnetic pull drawing you closer, like maybe you’d just close the gap and —

the studio door banged open.

“don’t stop on my account!” gojo sing-songed, practically sashaying back into the room, a smirk plastered across his face.

you both leaped back, clearing your throats and suddenly finding the walls, the floor, anything else in the room utterly fascinating.

“alright, lovebirds, let’s get this recording started, shall we?” gojo grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked between the two of you, not even pretending he hadn’t just caught a whole moment.

toji settled into the recording booth, leaning back in the chair with the script in hand, his voice dipping to that low, gravelly tone that made every line sound like an invitation.

“so,” he began, speaking as the dragon king to the main character in the script, his words practically dripping with intensity, “you think you can resist me? i see right through you… even the bravest warriors have trembled at my touch.”

your breath caught as he delivered the line, eyes wide as you watched him through the glass. 

you couldn’t help it — his character was practically staring into your soul, voice thick and slow, practically wrapping around each word.

“do you know what happens to those who challenge me?” toji continued, his eyes narrowing as he held the script in one hand, his gaze piercing. “they are forced to surrender… one way or another.”

outside the booth, you practically felt yourself melting, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you fidgeted with the edge of your shirt. 

toji’s voice, his delivery — it was all too much. how was it possible for him to sound that… that intense? it was like he was actually speaking to you.

“ah, beautiful.” gojo, standing beside you, broke in with a theatrical sigh. “our dragon king sounds magnificent, doesn’t he? i could practically faint!”

you shot him a quick glare, barely masking a smirk. “keep it down, gojo. he’s in the middle of it.”

“oh, i’m just here to appreciate the artistry,” gojo whispered back, feigning innocence as he leaned in to watch, hands clasped together dramatically.

“the choice is yours,” toji went on, his voice softer now, laced with something tender that made it impossible to look away. “join me… or keep pretending this —” he emphasized the word, letting it linger “ — isn’t exactly what you’ve been wanting.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze even through the glass. 

was he delivering that line as the dragon king or as… well, toji?

but then —

“ohhhh!” gojo chimed in loudly, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck by an arrow. “the passion! the romance! our hero’s heart is pounding!”

toji paused, rolling his eyes as he looked at gojo through the glass. “you really gonna keep interrupting, gojo?”

“oh, don’t mind me,” gojo said, waving a hand. “i’m simply enjoying the magic in the air! please, carry on. do go on.” he pretended to dab at his eyes. “so moving.”

toji gave a small sigh but threw you a barely-there smile before settling back into character.

“and when you finally stop running…” his voice softened, a quiet urgency threading through it. 

“i’ll be here, waiting… because you belong to me, whether you admit it or not.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you found yourself leaning in, hanging onto every word, caught up in the sheer pull of his voice. 

you didn’t know if it was his talent as a voice actor, the lines he was reading, or him, but every word was drawing you in deeper, bit by bit.

“ah, what is it like to be so passionately claimed by a dragon king? how riveting!” gojo murmured dramatically, as if providing a play-by-play to an audience. “she’s helpless, entranced! they both know she’s falling!”

toji cast a pointed look at gojo, barely concealing a smirk. “you done yet, gojo?”

gojo merely grinned, shrugging. “hey, i’m just here to make sure the romance shines through. and oh, don’t worry — it’s definitely shining.”

toji rolled his eyes but kept going, lowering his voice to a rumbling murmur. “if you don’t know where your heart lies, then i’ll show you.” 

he paused, his words lingering in the air like a promise, like he was speaking directly to you.

by now, the studio felt suffused with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. it didn’t help that every time gojo piped in with another comment, it only made you feel more painfully aware of every detail: the way toji’s gaze kept flickering your way, the way your own pulse raced faster with each line he spoke.

“the truth is right in front of you,” toji continued, his voice dropping low, rough, something smoldering behind each word. “all you have to do is reach out… and claim it.”

“gorgeous! breathtaking!” gojo burst out, clapping his hands loudly. “i can practically see the sparks flying! ah, young love!”

toji finally broke character, raising a brow at gojo with a look of pure exasperation. “you gonna let me finish or not?”

gojo waved a hand. “fine, fine. but for real — if you two don’t kiss after this, i might have to stage a re-shoot.”

both you and toji threw your hands up simultaneously, voices raised in exasperation. 

“gojo, would you please stop interrupting!”

“yeah, seriously, man,” toji added, shaking his head as he glanced over at you with a shared look of pure frustration.

“okay, okay! sheesh!” gojo shrieked, actually shrieked, as he staggered back in mock terror, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “all i wanted was to witness some workplace romance! is that so wrong?”

“yes, gojo, very wrong,” you shot back, rubbing your temples. “this is literally supposed to be professional — you should know that.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he smirked at gojo. “for once, i agree. you’ve got all the dramatic flair of a middle-schooler.”

“excuse me,” gojo replied, flipping an imaginary hair strand over his shoulder. “i’ll have you know my artistic eye is very advanced.” he let out a huff, but from the grin on his face, you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

you shook your head, exasperated. “look, can we just get this recording done without any more —”

“interruptions,” toji finished for you, raising a brow as he glanced over at gojo.

“fine, fine!” gojo finally backed off, dramatically sliding into a chair in the corner, arms folded in mock offense. “i’ll be silent as a stone. a beautiful, thoughtful stone.”

you exchanged another look with toji, both of you sighing in unison. 

something told you both that it was going to be a very long day, especially with gojo’s creative direction…

toji, after finishing a solid block of recording, had ended up chatting with the sound techs, leaving you flipping through your phone while you waited. 

gojo, in his usual meddling fashion, suddenly brightened up and declared, “oh! why don’t you have a little chat with suguru? i told him you were here. he insisted on saying hello!”

you raised an eyebrow. “uh, sure?”

gojo sent you a link to join the video call, and soon suguru’s face popped up on the screen. his calm expression softened slightly when he saw you. “well, hello there. gojo wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a new ‘star’ at the studio.”

you laughed, feeling a bit flustered. “thanks, geto! i hear you’re a partner at a... famous wine company?”

suguru gave a modest shrug. “yeah, it’s called persephone. it’s a small project that grew bigger than i expected. i handle a lot of the sourcing and marketing — keeps me away from here most of the time.”

“persephone? i’ve heard great things about it!” you said, genuinely impressed. “the way gojo talks about it, it sounds like a pretty big deal.”

he chuckled, glancing to the side as if recalling memories. “i started it with a... friend, actually. she was passionate about wine and had a vision that i couldn’t help but support. i guess i have a soft spot for her, and i... well, care about her a lot.”

you felt your heart warm a little at his sincerity, and the slight hesitation when he spoke of his partner. “it sounds like you two have something special going on,” you said, offering a supportive smile. “i’m sure she appreciates everything you do, especially with how involved you are. and honestly? best of luck. that kind of partnership sounds really meaningful.”

suguru gave a small nod, a faint, appreciative smile on his face. 

“thank you. i think she’d like you. maybe one day, if you ever make it out here for one of gojo’s wild wine-tasting parties, we can all meet up.”

“i’d love that!” you replied, already imagining how intriguing that partnership might be. and as you finished up the conversation, it struck you that you’d gotten a glimpse of a different side of suguru — one he clearly didn’t reveal often.

toji hadn’t meant to get distracted, but the second he saw you on a video call with suguru, laughing over whatever he was saying, he couldn’t help it. he’d been halfway listening to the sound tech drone on about waveform patterns, but all of that faded when he caught sight of you smiling on-screen. 

who exactly were you talking to like that? why did you look so happy?

the tech was still talking beside him, but toji’s focus was elsewhere. 

suguru. 

that damn calm, collected face of his. 

the same suguru who he’d seen only sparingly around the company, mostly through gojo’s random updates, but who was still one of the few people gojo actually respected.

toji squinted, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps toward you and pretended it was a casual stroll.

why was he doing this? it wasn’t like he had any claim on you, right? 

sure, there was that one kiss — or, well, those two kisses, actually. 

but still. 

he was a grown man, not some jealous kid. yet here he was, feeling like he had to size up suguru over a damn screen.

before he even realized it, toji had closed the distance. without asking, he leaned over your shoulder, practically shoving his face into the camera view as he met suguru’s face.

“hey, suguru,” he drawled, and the way his voice came out a little gruff didn’t escape him. “didn’t know you were interrupting a busy studio day here.”

you blinked, wide-eyed at his sudden closeness, but toji kept his eyes on suguru, ignoring your flustered reaction. suguru looked almost amused, raising an eyebrow at toji’s unannounced intrusion.

“toji. i’m just saying hi to the new talent here,” suguru replied with a smooth smile, clearly unfazed. “i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me meeting one of satoru’s top finds.”

“top find?” toji scoffed, feeling a weird pang at the words. “i’m the one doing all the work here.”

you shot him a look, somewhere between surprised and amused. “toji —”

but he just grunted and kept going, ignoring your attempt to intervene. “so, suguru, been busy with all that wine business, huh?” he went on, as if suguru’s whole life story had suddenly become his priority.

“pretty much,” suguru replied, a slight smirk in his tone. “it’s been keeping me busy, and i have a…close partner who keeps me grounded. speaking of which,” he turned his gaze to you with an amused smile, “she was the one who started persephone. i’m really just there to support her vision.”

“sounds convenient,” toji muttered, but suguru just chuckled.

you nudged him with your elbow, giving him a warning look. “toji, come on,” you whispered, as if he was the one being out of line here.

he let out a low sigh, then pulled back slightly, looking at you as if he’d just remembered himself. “what? ’m just makin’ sure you’re not getting dragged into any fancy wine scams or whatever.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. “geto’s company is doing fine, toji. it’s called persephone.”

toji folded his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. “well, just saying. i know people.” 

the whole room seemed to go a bit quieter, and toji cleared his throat, looking away from suguru's patient amusement.

“nice meeting you, toji,” suguru added, with a slight tilt of his head. “take care of our new ‘top find’ there, alright?”

toji clenched his jaw a little at the words, then nodded, pretending he wasn’t glaring at the camera. “yeah, yeah. we’re all set here.”

as the call ended, you turned to him, eyebrows raised, clearly wanting an explanation. “what was that about?”

toji scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual. “just, y’know…making sure you weren’t getting yourself in with shady people.”

“oh? like, you?”

he let out a bark of laughter, realizing he’d backed himself into a corner. “hey, i’m not shady — i’m just thorough.”

you raised an eyebrow. “thorough? right, that’s the word you’re going with?”

“yeah. and what — you mad at me for caring?”

at that, you went quiet, a faint blush touching your cheeks. 

and toji? well, he could only think of those two kisses again, and how stupidly close he’d just gotten to the camera just to… what? size up suguru? 

he mentally groaned. what was wrong with him?

tag list is open, comment if you'd like to be on it <3 produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[jacesvelaryons]

english love affair

social media au

kpop idol!reader x tom blyth

fc: jennie kim

i love making these and have some in my drafts so feel free to send requests/face claim requests/suggestions

(ps: i had to redo this bc the first time i posted not only did it not post, it didn’t save any of my changes so i had to do it again. 😭)

Requests are OPEN for both soc med aus and blurbs for Tom and his characters

yourusername

liked by zendaya and others

@calvinklein

hunterschafer beautiful girl

liked by yourusername

↪️yourusername that’s you babes 😘

taylorswift so proud of you hon

lola.tung can’t wait to see your pretty face all on the billboards AHH

tomblyth ❤️

liked by yourusername

↪️ user23 OH?

↪️ fan98 they know each other?

↪️ user9 and she liked!

user8 insert olivia wilde nodding meme

random56 when you’re that girl!

username7 y/n world domination she’s a singer dancer rapper songwriter producer model like what can she not do

ynfans

liked by randomuser and others

y/n has now followed actor tom blyth who has recently stared in the new hunger games movie the ballad of songbirds and snakes!

he has previously liked and commented on her recent post, and she’s stated previously that she’s a fan of the trilogy and has watched this new movie multiple times!

ynfan98 this is interesting bc she barely follows ppl as it is

user76 the way she’s barely active on social media and does this she’s so old lady coded 😭

user12 DID YALL SEE TOMS THIRST TRAP

↪️ user8 HIS WHAT?!

↪️ username6 YES SKDKDK not even a few hours since she followed now he’s like this

↪️ random87 real because i’d be thirst trapping to get her attention

tomblyth

liked by yourusername and others

outtakes from my recent vogue italia shoot

user1 ok thirst trap

ynfan NOT HIM POSTING THIS RIGHT AFTER YOURNAME FOLLOWS HIM BACK

↪️ random488 HES SO REAL

↪️ user978 IM CRYING HES SO HOT

↪️ user11 AND IT WORKED SHE LIKED BACK

rachelzegler you look okay i guess 🙄

↪️ tomblyth i’ll take it

mayahawke looking good my boy

↪️ tomblyth 👍

↪️ random5 his millennial ahh reply 😭

liked by mayahawke

yourusername stunning

liked by tomblyth

↪️ user12 not him acting coy after that thirst trap when she followed him 😭

↪️ user9 he thinks he’s slick when he’s probably fangirling she’s noticing him

user12 how did they meet not my worlds colliding

↪️ random1 probably rachel introduced them yk how rach is a social butterfly

liked by rachelzegler

↪️ user9 see? rach liking just confirms it she set them up

blythnation

liked by tbfns and others

tom’s now deleted story (1.12.2024)

user097 not him deleting this naurrr

tomfans wait my friends said they saw him in london what is he doing there if he ain’t filming anything?

user64 wait the shoes he’s holding look like something yn would wear at the recent gala in london hold on 👀👀

↪️ username678 you’re so right cause coincidence i think not

↪️ random75 maybe he went as her date! it’s a big night for her and her career. how sweet!

yourusername

liked by naomi and others

A huge honour to receive the Honorary MBEs and attend the South Korea-UK State Banquet at Buckingham Palace 🎖️💂‍♀️

onyourm_ark congrats y/nnie!

↪️ yourusername thanks markles im gonna cry omg

↪️ johnnyjsuh so proud of you y/n 🎉🥳

dualipa you’re one of us now 🥰🥰

↪️ yourusername kisses kisses hugs hugs

↪️ user87 one of us like 👀interesting

↪️ person97 cause she got an english man too

oliviarodrigo congrats my love!

liked by yourusername

↪️ yourusername thank you angel ✨

↪️ random97 wait both my girls booed up by english boys they’re on the same wavelength

username188 am i dreaming or does the shoes on tom’s deleted story match her dress

↪️ ynfan I SEE IT OMG did they go together

↪️ fan65 my cousin who works at the palace apparently heard he entered through the private back entrance to attend the ball and seated where he’s not visible by the camera

↪️ user97 so cute for her to bring him as a date! must be serious tho

↪️ randomuser7 great he attended and supported her during one of the biggest nights of her career but didn’t hog the spotlight

↪️ user121 a real man wouldn’t be threatened by a woman’s success

liked by yourusername

↪️ user53 exactly yn deserves someone who knows his place and that she’s a star and not to be jealous and try to stifle her talent and creativity and personality

yourusername posted a story

[coryoskywalker]

Save Me (Part One) Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Description - Coriolanus has returned to the capitol after his time serving as a peacekeeper with one thing on his mind…..you. (Basically Coriolanus and Reader reuniting with unspoken feelings)

Ps I wrote this half asleep so don’t mind the grammar mistakes

———————————————————————————

Coriolanus Snow had always been one for the rules and following them, but the Hunger Games... well, it was hard to follow the rules in the games if it meant losing your life. After having cheated in the games, the Capitol couldn't let him get away with nothing. Coriolanus Snow was forced out of the Capitol, sent away from his family and forced to become a Peacekeeper. And now, months later, as he walked through the Capitol, he looked almost unrecognizable. He had a stern expression on his face, never showing more than he had to.

Coriolanus Snow walked quietly through the campus of the academy that was in the Capitol. As he walked, he heard whispers about him. He almost couldn't understand what exactly people were saying about him, but he got the gist of it. They were talking about him, Coryo, a cheater and a liar and a traitor. Coriolanus had his face in a straight expression, looking at no one. His mind was blank except for one thought... finding you.

Coriolanus Snow walked through the library, but suddenly he stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you. He looked at you for a moment, a thought crossing his mind. What if he just... spoke to you? Coriolanus took a few deep breaths and started to walk towards you. As he walked up to yourself, he suddenly cleared his throat, which almost seemed to get your attention almost immediately.

“Coryo” you whispered.

Coriolanus Snow felt a chill as you called out his childhood nickname. He turned to face you, still with that blank expression on his face, but his mind was racing.

"y/n." He said quietly, keeping his voice low so only you could hear it. "Hello." He almost wished that he could see your expression right now.

“Where were you? No one told me where you went” you expressed.

"I was sentenced to become a Peacekeeper." Coriolanus said. It sounded silly to tell you that the Capitol had sent him to be a Peacekeeper, but it was true. "I had... broken the rules in order to keep my tribute alive." He almost wanted to punch himself in the face as he explained it. He was always someone that followed the rules, even if he may not like them, why had he broken the rules just to keep his tribute alive? Did he want her that badly?

“One would assume you have feelings for your tribute, lucygray” you teased him.

Coriolanus Snow looked at you, your words almost hitting a nerve in him, making him want to punch something. If only you knew how he felt about her... it would certainly change your perception of him, but Coriolanus kept his emotions hidden. "What?" He asked. "What a strange notion." He said mockingly, shaking his head. As if he could love Lucy. You just rolled your eyes with a smile planted on your face.

Coriolanus felt his face turn red. He had never felt like this before. When you looked at him with a small grin on your face, as if you already knew the reason he broke the rules in the Games. What was this feeling? Did he care this much about a tribute, that he wanted to break the rules for her? Coryo shook his head, trying to clear himself of all doubts and thoughts. "Nevermind that." He said blankly, forcing himself to calm down.

You nod “well Coryo come sit down. Tell me everything that has happened to you in the past few months” you spoke softly.

Coriolanus Snow, or Coryo, as many calls him, couldn't believe this was happening. You were…. smiling at him. You wanted to know about him, how he has been over the last few months. He couldn't understand why he felt nervous at this, it was almost a bad feeling, but he followed by going to sit beside her, still not looking at her. "Well... what do you want to know?" He asked bluntly.

“Everything”

Coriolanus felt a chill go up his spine as you said that. Tell you everything? The Capitol, what he had done, the guilt he carried? He wanted to tell her, he didn't want to keep these secrets anymore. The Capitol was where he made a mistake, telling you would help him feel... relief.

"Okay." He said, taking a breath. "Everything is a lot to say, but I guess I can tell you..." Coryo looked at the floor as he spoke.

He wasn't ready for you to look at him. Coriolanus told you everything. From how the Capitol had given him the position as a Peacekeeper, how he didn't fit in there, to the games. To the fact that he had broken the rules in order to keep Lucy alive. He expected you to walk away then and there, tell him what a monster he was, and never look at him again. But instead, she stayed, listening earnestly, then spoke quietly.

"I still think you did the right thing, Coryo." The words came as a shock. You didn't judge him. Instead, you... approved him? “You were willing to sacrifice everything to keep her alive. I find it admireable. I wish I was brave enough to do the same for my tribute” you spoke with admiration.

Coriolanus wasn't sure if he should feel flattered by her words or disturbed. His actions weren't something to be proud of. He had broken the rules in order to keep his tribute alive. While, in some way, you were telling him it was alright... Coriolanus thought back about his actions. He couldn't bring himself to feel proud nor shame for what he had done. Instead, he just felt... empty. "It was wrong to do it, y/n" He said, his voice soft. "I should have stayed loyal to the Capitol."

“The Capitol is corrupt Coriolanus”

Coriolanus felt a chill go down his spine as you spoke those words. You were right of course, the Capitol was corrupt. He knew it, had always known it, but there was always a part of him that believed the Capitol was just and right. But then, as he met your gaze and felt your steady eyes on him, something in him changed. "You're right. It is corrupt." He said, more to himself than to you.

[hrtsdevils]

you’re no prize either. | jh86

summary actress!reader instagram au.. she’s a star!!! miss lucy gray baird herself. she dated jack. the fans know it. they hate on each other!

pairings jack hughes x ex!reader

a/n i’m obsessed with tbosas and idk where else to perpetuate my obsession fc is rachel zegler!! my love!

november 27, 2023

yourusername

liked by tomblyth, colecaufield, ryleighwhite_, and 653,289 others

yourusername oh the love i have for this cast, this movie, and lucy gray baird. my life has changed so much, and for the better!! i’ve met so many new people and learned so many new lessons ❤️

shoutout to queen suzanne for creating the loml lucy gray ☺️ and shoutout to everybody for making tbosas possible! i love you all

ps i sang the ballad of lucy gray baird with real experiences in mind.. iykyk;)

tagged nyrangers

view all 23879 comments

ryleighwhite_ YOURE SO CUTE AND SO PERFECT AND I MISS U ❤️❤️ (so does daws)

yourusername @/ryleighwhite_ I MISS U GUYS?!!! i’ll see u soon! next rags game?

ryleighwhite_ @/yourusername YES!! as long as u wear devils gear ☺️

user292 mercers the opp 💀

tomblyth so much fun working with you, mockingjay ❤️❤️

yourusername @/tomblyth youre my bff. I LOVE YOU.

user54 HER AND TOM ARE EVERYTHINGGGGG!!! never thought a man could make me like peepaw snow

colecaufield congrats!! it was a great movie:)

yourusername @/colecaufield COLEE thank you so much i tried very hard!!!

colecaufield @/yourusername you’re so awesome

trevorzegras @/colecaufield wrong team

yourusername @/trevorzegras sorry jack’s boyfriend

user45 I LAUGHEDDDDDD she ate him up

user76 @/user45 ate what?? the crumbs 💀

lhughes_06 good job y/n

user76 not her leaving jack for knock off draco malfoy like 💀💀

user32 @/user76 you’re so weird they aren’t even dating lmao

user76 @/user32 okay well she still flopped!! glad lucy bird died

user59 @/user76 i love jack and her but she is not a flop… she has the #1 movie in the world rn and what does jack have???

user76 @/user59 his sexyness!

yourbff UR SO GOOD AND INSANE AND TALENTED AND MOMMY

yourbff I LOVE SEXY INDEPENDENT WOMEN!

yourusername @/yourbff sexy indepdnent women love you

yourusername @/yourusername indipejdent

yourusername @/yourusername independent!

user86 no one’s gonna talk abt her going to the rangers game i’m deadddd she’s obsessed

user09 queen lucy gray baird future oscar winner

november 27, 2023

jackhughes

liked by trevorzegras, user76, lhughes_06 and 157,902 others

jackhughes workin hard or hardly workin?

i like katniss evergreen better anyways 🏹🏹

tagged colecaufield

view all 4936 comments

user35 this bitch has never watched a hunger games movie in his life

user59 jacquelyn… what is that caption… delete this rn!

user76 @/user59 it’s him eating lucy bird up

user59 @/user76 ur sm like jack!! you can’t spell these names right

colecaufield why are u associating me with your perpetual hate

trevorzegras @/colecaufield WRONG. TEAM.

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras jack cant even spell everdeen right im not on his team rn either

jackhughes @/colecaufield @/_alexturcotte you guys are cruel

colecaufield @/jackhughes you’re cruel

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes LEARN TO SPELL!!!! put some respect on katniss’ name

lhughes_06 why?????

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 what did i do

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you’re so dumb

user45 she was my fave wag.. whyd he fumble!!!!!

user34 @/user45 goodbye y/n! we hardly knew you 🙁

nicohischier I loved Y/n in TBOSAS

colecaufield @/nicohischier real of you nico

user09 i wanna know what happened between them LMAO

_quinnhughes i thought u liked the movie? u said u watched it when it came out lol

jackhughes @/_quinnhughes BRO

yourusername @/jackhughes aw jack how heartwarming!

jackhughes @/yourusername you’re horrible.

yourusername @/jackhughes well you’re no prize either 😉

[starrylanex]

YOU ARE IN LOVE

PAIRING - finnick odair x reader

SUMMARY - based on the song ‘You Are In Love’ by taylor swift

WC - 1k

EXTRA - implied relationship, lower case intended, one use of y/n,

NOTES - hi angels, i was listening to 1989 and i cooked this up lol enjoy<3

PS. - english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes please don’t hesitate to point then out:))

—

the room was dark, so dark that it was almost impossible to see anything, but your eyesight was already used it, to the point were you could easily point out your lover laying next you. you could tell finnick was also looking at you, and only you. as if all he ever wanted to look was you.

both of you were exhausted, both physically and mentally after finding out that there was a possibility both of you could get reaped in the hunger games once again. you had cried so much, that at that point you were sure there were no more tears left in you.

and now, you had found yourself just simply laying in your bed next to finnick, both of you facing each other, and just taking it all in. because frankly neither of you knew how much time you had left.

the room was only illuminated by the moon, as both of you had forgotten to close the blinds. the moonlight reflected from the chain on your neck, the chain of a necklace finnick had gifted you after you came back alive from winning your games.

you didn’t move when his hand came up to your face and brushed a piece of your hair that fell in your eyes, so gentle that if you didn’t see it, you would be sure that it wasn’t there. you closed your eyes, savoring his touch, as a single tear fell from your eye.

“look up darling,” you heard him whisper in front of you. obeying him, you turned on your back and opened your eyes, only to see the beautiful reflections on the ceiling of your bedroom. the moonlight was reflecting from your charm and onto the ceiling, illuminating a beautiful marble like shadows.

your shoulders brushed his as he mirrored your movements. no proof, one touch. but you felt enough. neither of you had any energy left to say anything, and so the room was once again endorsed in the comfortable silence. but it was enough.

you could see it with the lights out. because it was enough. you were sure you were in love. and there was nothing else that mattered at that moment. because it was pure, and even tho you were nothing but, the love you had for finnick was just that. true, innocent love.

the next morning you woke up to the smell of a burnt toast, and your beloved finnick was nowhere to be seen in your room.

you quickly pulled over one of his shirts, and wondered out in the the kitchen of your home, where you saw him standing. his shirtless back facing you, and his hair wet, meaning he had already went to swim, as he continued to cook the eggs, without even realizing you were there.

and for once, you let it all go. you let your fears and ghost go and relaxed, forgetting previous events for at least a little bit. barefoot, you approached finn, and not wanting to scare him, you gently wrapped your hands around his torso, and laid your head on his back, hugging him from behind.

“morning baby,” you were the first to break the silence and kissed his back, only to feel his hand sneak around yours and squeeze them as in saying morning back.

strange. usually he was the talkative one in the morning, greeting you with his charming smile and a kiss on the lips, no matter what he was doing. so you immediately knew that something was wrong.

well, technically everything was wrong. as the news had arrived like a sudden storm. and thinking that maybe everything would be normal again was selfish of you.

you moved next to him, as he turned the stove off. you could finally see him now. finnick’s jaw was clenched, his now free hands fisted at his sides as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within him.

your heart sank, not because you were afraid of him, but because you were afraid for him and how destructive his mind could be on himself. the air in the room hang heavily with tension.

“we can’t just sit here and do nothing,” finnick muttered, his voice edged with frustration. "there has to be a way out of this mess."

he was finally looking at you, eyes sharp and fearful and full of determination, “i dont think there is anything we can do finn. we’re just two people against the entire capitol."

finnick stopped his pacing. "we can fight. we can refuse to be pawns in their twisted game. we can make them see that we're not just pieces to be sacrificed for their entertainment.”

"and how do you suggest we do that?" you countered, your voice tinged with bitterness. "they hold all the power, finnick. we're at their mercy."

finnick's jaw clenched, his fists balling at his sides. "I refuse to believe that we're powerless y/n. we may not have control over the reaping, but we have control over how we face it. we can choose to go down fighting."

you shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. "and what if fighting only brings us more pain? what if it leads to more bloodshed, more suffering?"

finnick's resolve wavered for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. but then he straightened, his gaze hardening with determination.

"we can't let fear dictate our actions darling," his voice now calm. "we have to hold onto hope, even in the darkest of times. we have to believe that there's a chance, however slim, that we can change our fate."

you knew he was right, you had to take any slim chance you had. and maybe with katniss, you did have a chance. at least you hoped you did.

that night, neither of you could really sleep. you didn’t go to bed without solving a fight, and even tho this wasn’t really a fight, you still made up. and once again, you found yourselves in the same position as you the night before.

thought, he had a strange look on his face as the two of you looked at each other. his brows furrowed, but eyes still held his spark. he took a deep breath, and gently- with fatherly touch he stroke your cheek, “darling, you’re my best friend, you know that right?”

and in that moment, you knew that he was in love too.

[viennafantasies]

𝜗𝜚- Character's I write for

Outer Banks: jj maybank, rafe cameron, john b routledge

The Vampire Diaries: damon salvatore, stefan salvatore, klaus mikaelson, kai parker, kol mikaelson, elijah mikaelson, jeremy gilbert, enzo st john

Pretty Little Liars: toby cavanaugh, caleb rivers, Jason dilaurentis

Glee: santana lopez & sam evans

Once Upon A Time: killian jones & peter pan

Brooklyn Nine Nine: jake peralta

Gossip Girl: chuck bass & nate archibald (for now)

Riverdale: archie andrews & jughead jones

The Office: luke cooper & jim halpert

Stranger Things: steve harrington & billy hargrove

Cobra Kai: miguel diaz, robbie keene & hawk aka: eli horowitz

The X Files: fox mulder

American Horror Story: tate langdon, kit walker, kyle spencer

Pen15: dustin long, brandt

Outnumbered: jake

Marvel: loki laufeyson, steve rogers, bucky barnes, peter parker

DC: bruce wayne, clark kent, dick grayson, joker

Hunger Games: finnick odair & peter malarky, ps. I haven't done cornelius bc I haven't watched the new movie :)

Harry Potter: ron weasley, draco malfoy, blaise zabini, mattheo riddle, tom riddle, lorenzo berkshire, theodore nott, lucian bole, james potter, sirius black, remus lupin, regulus black

Note: Let me know if you want any poly, my requests will be open by tomorrow. You can request whatever you want but it has to be x reader. I don't mind writing anything but be careful with warnings. I hope you have a great day!! mwah :) ps. tell me if you want fluff, smut or angst. I don't know how to do smut that well but I will try!

cba to do tags

still did it ...

[venusbyline]

Hey guys, I'm Vênus (she/her). This is my new ff blog and requests are already open!

I really like writing dark, smut and/or angst contents for s/o x female readers.

Almost all the characters and artists I'll write for are tagged. Feel free to send me your writing requests on my ask. (ps¹: practically i'll write for all Jacob Elordi and Ryan Gosling's characters, there just wasn't enough space in the tags).

So don't be shy... I'm a member of the "toxic characters stan" too <3

ps²: some characters besides the other characters of Ryan Gosling and Jacob Elordi that I didn't put in the tags but that I can also write for:

Scream: Ethan Landry, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher.

Euphoria: Rue Bennet, Jules Vaughn, Ethan Lewis, Lexi Howard, Chris McKay, Fezco.

Hunger Games: Lucy Gray Baird, Katniss Everdeen, Sejanus Plinth, Johanna Mason, Treech, Clemensia Dovecote, Tigris Snow, Haymitch Abernathy.

MCU: Tom Holland!Peter Parker & Andrew Garfield!Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff.

Daisy Jones & The Six: Eddie Roundtree, Daisy Jones, Camila Dunne.

The Vampire Diaries: Stefan Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Silas, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce.

Margot Robbie: Barbie, Harley Quinn.

Gossip Girl: Chuck Bass, Nate Archibald, Carter Baizen, Blair Waldorf.

YOU: Love Quinn, Joe Goldberg.

Harry Potter: Cedric Diggory, Hermione Granger, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black.

Grey's Anatomy: Jackson Avery, Derek Shepherd, Mark Sloan, Alex Karev.

Outer Banks: Rafe Cameron, JJ Maybank.

Anyway, more characters can be added here over time!

[depressopax]

Masterlist - Multifandom

I only write for 18+ characters I will mostly write gender neutral or female readers, but if wanted I can try writing for others too! :) I'm also open to requests! (Scenarios, characters, headcanons etc) PS: English is not my first language, so if I make any (spelling) mistakes, please let me know how I can improve my writing. <3

Introduction of myself can be found here!

Meet the creator

All my work is avaliable on AO3 too! More info can be found here (tumblr post)

Rules for request

Smut - ❤‍🔥 Fluff - ☁ Angst - 💔

Current fandoms I'm writing for & which characters (Only queue, for masterlist specific fandom, click the links!)

La casa de papel Masterlist

Nairobi/Ágata Jiménez

Tokyo/Silene Oliviera

Berlin/Andrés de Fonollosa

Denver/Daniel Ramos - Relationship headcanons SFW ☁ WIP NSFW ❤‍🔥 WIP

Professor/Sergio Marquina - Relationship headcanons SFW ☁ WIP NSFW ❤‍🔥 WIP

Alicia Sierra (One) night stand ❤‍🔥 WIP

Berlin Spinoff characters

Others NSFW alphabet WIP

Breaking Bad Masterlist

Mike Ehrmantraut Engagement/marriage HC's [request] ☁

Saul Goodman/Jimmy McGill

Kim Wexler

Jesse Pinkman - Lucky ones ☁ WIP

Nacho Varga

Others Sugar arrangement (multiple characters) ❤‍🔥WIP

LCDP x BCS AU

Masterlist

From ABQ with love, Nacho - Nacho Varga spinoff

The Hunger Games (& TBOSAS)

Masterlist

Haymitch Abernathy Wake up (scenario - gn! reader) WIP

Johanna Mason

Finnick Odair

Others

Other fandoms

Twin Peaks Masterlist

Dale Cooper NSFW alphabet WIP

[nubisaureus]

office sex with Wriothesley

pairing: fem!reader x Wriothesley, undercover agent!reader x Wriothesley, sub!reader x Dom!Wriothesley

content(s): pet names (princess, innocent little thing), spanking, bondage, hint of breeding?, oral (male receiving), vaginal fingering, implied voyeurism, exhibitionism, marking, improper use of Cryo?, cockwarming, cuddling, oral fixation, D/s, praise, slight degradation

word count: 1.76k

NSFW, minors DO NOT interact

a/n listen I'm in my Wriothesley brainrot era so i just had to T^T been having the unholiest thoughts about this man (SIGH. HE GOT ME DOWN BAD.)Anyways, enjoy! <3 ps. not proofread otherwise assignments would kick my ass faster than yall be pulling for waifus and husbandos pps. yes the formatting is sloppy but bear with me I can't stick to one style to save my life I swear

‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

«Wriothesley…» you whine as the black haired man passionately ravishes your neck, a trail of sloppy kisses coating it with his saliva.

«Hm?» he acknowledges your call, his lips pressing ever so roughly on your sensitive neck, focusing on the crook.

«The office door is not locked.» you state, unable to tear your hands away from his hair, as if it were the only thing keeping you from losing your mind for the Lord of the Fortress you were supposed to be working for and have a mere professional relationship with.

«And..?» his head wanders around, his lips landing on your collarbone, sucking the skin on it, which would have undoubtedly left a hickey.

«And..someone could walk in on us.» you distance yourself a bit, taking him in. You need to kiss every scar on his goddamn body and face.

«Didn't think you'd mind that. Considering how you touch yourself in your cell whenever the guards are not around.» he wasn't wrong.

«How the fuck do you know that?»

«Such an innocent little thing. I know everything that happens in my domain.» he tears your shirt open, revealing the lack of a bra.

«You were eager to say the least, weren't you, [y/n]?» he gropes one breast, using his Cryo vision to slightly make your nipples cold, sending shivers down your spine.

«I- I wouldn't say that..» you feebly protest, as he grabs you from behind, making your bodies crash together.

You whine at the sudden sensory overload. Your skin was too sensitive after his little ice trick.

Your clothed crotches rub against each other, the friction intensifying your arousal.

«Feeling good?» he whispers in your ear, blowing a little bit of air in it.

«Yes daddy.» you mewl, as he roughly tears your shorts apart.

«Spread your legs wide, princess.» he orders, his voice raspy.

You can't help but comply, and soon enough your panties lie somewhere on the floor, just a useless trinket.

He traces your outer labia with one icy cold finger.

«So wet. And I haven't done anything yet.» he murmurs, while you can't help but try to get him closer to you.

You want his mouth on yours, so you grab him, his lips crashing onto yours as soon as he's close enough, making you moan on the spot.

With every expert movement of his tongue, every gentle tug at your hair, every cold breath on your lips, you got needier. Like an insatiable hunger was consuming you from your very core.

As he's bent on you, his tongue intertwining with yours, you hear metal clatter in the background.

And soon enough, the source of the sound becomes clear: his handcuffs.

The same handcuffs he'd always toy around with, resulting in prisoners being intimidated, while you both knew it was a game he enjoyed playing when he had to act like you two were just the Duke and an inmate like any other.

He snaps them open, making you sit up straight.

«Chest out, pretty girl. Put those arms behind you.» you do, and your breasts perk out at the motion, sending them jiggling in front of his hungry eyes.

You can sense the intensity in his stare: it feels like your body is about to catch on fire; he's staring at you like you're his prey, all his to enjoy.

«Such a good girl..» his words feel like electricity as he snaps the two metal rings onto your wrists, the sudden cold material making you flinch.

«Thanks daddy.» you give him the doe eyes, doing your best to display how submissive you feel, the growing bulge telling you you were doing a good job.

«You're so fucking gorgeous, princess.» he growls as he bends you over.

«That's it. Ass up for me. Spread those legs again.»

You can feel the cold air caressing your outer labia, yet can't determine where it comes rom: is it his breath? Is it him using his Cryo powers?

As three fingers enter you, your thoughts come to a halt: your entire mind gets flooded with pleasure, all the brain centers suddenly overstimulated simultaneously.

His free hand grabs your bound wrists, tugging at them so that you'd rise up a bit, making his fingers go deeper.

«That's it. Take them all. I know you want it.»

«N-ngh…» is the only sound you can mutter, as he uses his thumb to apply pressure on your clit, the pleasure so intense your vision starts blurring and little tears start rolling down your cheeks.

«F-fuck..!» you scream, but then bite your lip, the fear of being discovered subconsciously stopping you.

Smack.

A hard spank on your left butt cheek.

As his hand connects with your soft and warm flesh you squeal in surprise, drawing a hiss out of him.

«Wrio-» another spank.

«Try again, princess. I'm sure you'll find it in that pleasure intoxicated brain of yours, won't you?»

«Yes daddy.» your mouth moves before your brain, and you get rewarded with a kiss on the ass, exactly where his hand print is, you reckon.

«Don't you dare be quiet. I want to hear how much you desperately crave it, princess.» his voice is thick and raspy, lust corrupting his usual calm manner of speaking.

«B-but the door…!» you object, only to get spanked again.

«And what IF they hear you? Are you afraid they'll discover how much of a slut you are for me and my cock, hm?» he buries his fingers deeper in your pussy, leaving only his knuckles out.

«A-ah..!» you scream, arching your back higher.

In. Out. In. Out.

At one point you start bucking your hips to meet him, evidence being his groaning as your ass smacks his wrist, causing a slapping sound that echoes in the silence of his office, amplified by the hollow space beneath the floor.

«You're so tight..!» he groans, as he continues fingering you.

You moan his name over and over again, unable to resist his carefully calculated motions.

«I..I think I'm gonna cum..!» you scream yet again, as he inserts one last finger. Four long fingers stretching you out.

But, to your disappointment, it's over way too soon.

He retracts, leaving you hungry and empty, needing to be filled, a sense of emptiness overwhelming you.

«Daddy please…» you whine, as he lifts you up, making you sit with your legs spread out and your pussy facing him.

He shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you instinctively suck on them.

As you suck on his fingers drool starts escaping the corners of your mouth, dripping on your bare breasts.

Then suddenly you feel yourself drop on your knees, and uncontrollable urge to suck him off blossoming inside you.

«Oh? You're that eager, huh?» he comments, as he drags his fingers around, smearing your lips and cheeks with your own saliva. And then his cock is out in all its glory.

«I know, I know, princess. You want it so badly, don't you?» you nod eagerly, hands still tied behind your back.

You don't wait for his permission, you just take it in your mouth; his ungodly moans fill the room: there's just something so primal in hearing him moan your name with his voice, something that makes your arousal drip down your thighs.

He grabs your hair, moving your head up and down on his shaft, and you eagerly go along with it, feeling the taste of his pre-cum starting to spill.

«That's it, princess. Don't stop…!» he basically screams, as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth: finally, after what it seems like an eternity to him, he erupts in orgasm, spurting in your mouth.

You lick your lips clean as he helps you back to your feet, his eyes veiled with a post orgasmic bliss you know way too well.

«You've been so good, princess. You deserve a reward.» he cooes, kissing you. His hands are on your back, holding you gently as he deepens the kiss.

«Tell me. – his cold breath tickles your lips, making you shiver – You want my cock, don't you?»

You nod, staring at him in pure spellbound attraction. You can't tell what feeling rises in your heart, so you decide to ignore it for the time being.

Soon enough you can feel the delicious sensation of him stretching you out with his cock, filling you up to every last inch. You finally feel full again, the uncomfortable emptiness gone, filled by the only thing you had desired all day: HIM. You cry his name out, as he relentlessly pounds into you, your tits jiggling with every thrust of his big cock.

«You're even tighter now..!» he screams, as he continues pounding: his cock repeatedly hits your G-spot, making you see stars.

The pleasure is just too good, too overwhelming, your insides clenching around him, milking him dry.

«Daddy please I want to touch you..» you whine, as he relentlessly hammers himself into you.

«Please..» you beg again, extending your head to kiss his neck.

«You're so fucking cute, princess. Alright.» he finally gives in, freeing your wrists.

Your hands are instantly on his shirt: you tear it open, revealing his toned body marked with numerous scars.

You kiss one on his neck, licking his skin; little goosebumps surface, making you shiver.

Every thrust has your bodies crashing together, and you hold onto him for dear life, your nails probably leaving marks on his body, marking him like he marks you.

«I need you to cum with me, princess..!» he growls in your ear, as his mouth is now on your neck, biting hard, literally forgetting about the secrecy you were supposed to maintain.

His fingers travel down, and soon enough your clit is assaulted by his perfect ministrations, making you twitch and pant, your body leaning on him for support.

«Come on, princess. Give it to me. I need you to give me your all.» he cooes again, and soon enough you're cumming all over him, coating his shaft with your sweet arousal.

He follows right after, his cum filling you up to the brim, so much it starts leaking out, trickling down your spread thighs.

«That's a good girl.» he praises you, still inside you. He has no intention to break that sweet link between you two.

You end up cuddling with him on his lap while he's sitting on his office chair. He's covered you with his coat, making you rest his head on his warm chest, and you finally stop wondering if the entirety of the Fortress heard you or not.

[dollycxre]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ you'll see my face, in every place, but you can't catch me now.

-> "Make a wish."

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩

airi, she/her, minor, animal lvr, daydreamer, infp, multifandom writer, omniromantic bisexual, half-dead, half fairy, child of hades, always open to moots :3

-> rules

(a/n: im a minor so don't be freaky)

ps. fic ideas are appreciated, especially for fandoms that aren't pjo! (and you can just send me random thoughts about characters as well, I love that sorta thing)

-> PERCY JACKSON (BOOK SERIES)

magic in the making...

-> PERCY JACKSON (TV SHOW)

magic in the making...

->HEROES OF OLYMPUS

Yandere! Athena x Demigod! Darling - general hcs (fem reader)

yandere PJO! Hades x demigod! darling - general hcs

yandere! Hestia x fem! mortal! Reader - ♡ general hcs

yandere PJO! Percy Jackson x demigod! darling X yandere HOO! Jason Grace - general hcs

->TWILIGHT SAGA

magic in the making...

->TRIALS OF APOLLO

magic in the making...

->DORK DIARIES

magic in the making...

->MAGNUS CHASE

magic in the making...

->GREEK MYTHOLOGY

magic in the making...

->SEDUCE ME THE OTOME ( WOMEN ONLY)

magic in the making...

->HARRY POTTER HOGWARTS MYSTERY

magic in the making...

->CHALLENGERS

magic in the making...

->THE HUNGER GAMES

magic in the making...

->THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

magic in the making...

->SCREAM (ALL 6 MOVIES)

magic in the making...

->TCOAAL (THE COFFIN OF ANDY AND LEYLEY)

magic in the making...

a/n: I don't support the incest part of this game so nothing for that!!

->JENNIFER'S BODY

magic in the making...

->PROJECT SEKAI

magic in the making...

->KPOP

A/N: I will only write for girl groups!!

magic in the making...

->PRETTY LITTLE LIARS

A/N: only the girlies!

magic in the making...

->HEATHERS

magic in the making...

->GIRL FROM NOWHERE

magic in the making...

->CARMEN SANDIEGO

magic in the making...

->AMERICAN HORROR STORY (coven, murder house, asylum, 1984 and apocalypse only!!)

magic in the making...

->MCU/MARVEL

A/N: once again, I will only be writing for the females!!

magic in the making...

->MIRACULOUS LADYBUG

magic in the making...

->BLUE LOCK

magic in the making...

->SPY X FAMILY

magic in the making...

->DDLC

magic in the making...

->EVER AFTER HIGH

magic in the making...

->HARRY POTTER

magic in the making...

->THE FOLK OF THE AIR

A/N: ask me about these after a couple of months, I still need to finish the series lol

magic in the making...

->ALL FOR THE GAME

magic in the making...

->MLP

magic in the making...

->FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S

magic in the making...

->OMORI

magic in the making...

->A GOOD GIRL'S GUIDE TO MURDER

magic in the making...

->DANGANRONPA 1, 2 AND 3

magic in the making...

->YANDERE SIMULATOR (maybe, I definitely don't support that pr3dator yand3v, so I probably won't write for this much or at all)

magic in the making...

->MANGA/MANHWA/MANHUA

A/N: please ask if I write for the specific one you want first!!

magic in progress...

!! IMPORTANT A/N: The fandoms listed below are the ones I won't write for very often or when I do, it'll probably not be reqs or asks ♥ !!

->GENSHIN IMPACT

magic in the making...

->HONKAI STAR RAIL

magic in the making...

A/N: The requests for Hoyoverse games are currently closed &lt;;3

->BROOKLYN-99

A/N: I'll write for everyone except Holt, Kevin, Sarge, Boyle, Hitchcock and Scully

magic in the making...

->MODERN FAMILY

A/N: I don't write for Luke, Manny and Jay

magic in the making...

->ENCANTO

magic in the making...

->WEDNESDAY (NETFLIX SHOW)

magic in the making...

->YOU (NETFLIX SHOW)

magic in the making...

a/n: I used to keep up with this show only from 2018-2022 so I still gotta watch the latest season, so no reqs for that yet!!

!PLEASE ASK IF THERE'S A PARTICULAR FANDOM YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR THAT ISN'T MENTIONED HERE!!

[brave-and-gentle]

Fanfic writer interview

Ooooo thanks for the tag @itsnathateasy! PS - I also used to be a huge Directioner! That is actually how I got on Tumblr in 2012 lmao

How many work do you have on AO3?

4

What's your total AO3 word count?

110,050

What are your top 5 stories by kudos/likes?

GirlDad!Jean tea party - 65 likes

GirlDad!Jean dance and soccer - 184 likes

Devil in the Cold - 88 kudos

GirlDad!Jean Happy Birthday - 62 likes

A TIE!! Second Chances and The Patient - 46 kudos

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

OFC. I'm so grateful that someone enjoyed my fic so much that they took the time to comment, so I will respond with aggressive love <3 (i am an aries venus)

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I actually don't think anything I've written has an angsty ending?? But Second Chances might, we'll see...(it'll be fine i promise)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

they all have happy endings because i'm a sucker for happy endings :'')

Do you write crossovers?

I have not!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No THANK GOD

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yesss hehe, mostly afab with Jean Kirstein because that's what i want lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i hope not!!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

kind of! way back in 2009-2010 before i even knew the meaning of fanfics, my irl friends and i would write The Hunger Games fics together, but from decades before Katniss' story. This is going to age myself esp since I think most of my followers are a little younger than me, but we literally posted them to a private Facebook group LMAO. it was kind of like asynchronous DND, we even had a GM and would take turns!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

JeanBee, aka, my self-ship delulu!! :')

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

*takes biggest sigh of the day* I think I still have a post-war Gale Hawthorne redemption arc saved somewhere. Idk if I'll ever return to it, though I'd love to because he deserves it!! I never published it anywhere.

What are your writing strengths?

Based on my Ao3 comments, it seems like readers really think I've nailed how the different AoT charaters act, and I am honored :')

What are your writing weaknesses?

Diving into my characters inner thoughts more! I feel I sometimes rely too much on outer factors to relay their thoughts, which is definitely necessary, but sometimes I forget that they actually have inner dialogue lol.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Same as prev: in my experience, it's irrelevant to the plot more often than not. i do appreciate it when it's important to the plot.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I'd loooove to write JeanPiku, but I fear i would never do them justice!

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Definitely Second Chances, linked above. It's a mildly angsty divorced dilf Jean x reader fic (warning! DO NOT read if you are a JeanKasa ride or die, it ain't for you bbys, ilysm)

np: @hideandgopeep @mayariviolet @ppushable @d33pwithinmys0ul

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland

[plus-size-reader]

Against All Odds

Finnick Odair x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2247 words

Warnings: Just a little Finnick Fluff

Summary: Finnick and the reader have been seeing one another in secret, until they are both reaped into the 75th annual Hunger Games

—————————————————————————————————

Love always found a way.

That was what your mother had always told you, for as long as you could have remembered, but you didn’t ever believe that.

You didn’t want to believe it.

If love could have found a way, there was no reason you would have found yourself here again, staring down almost certain death for the second time.

It had to be a joke.

Not that any amount of pinching your skin beneath your fingers and waiting for the nightmare to end changed anything. All that did was leave welts on your skin, skin littered with long healed scars you tried to ignore.

Skin that you couldn’t believe you were still living in after all this time.

You should have been dead, but no amount of days lived could force you to be grateful that you weren’t. All those past tributes, dead before their nineteenth year, were no longer slaves as you were to the capitol.

They couldn’t be pawns in Snow’s game, a game you hadn’t been able to escape since your own reaping into the Hunger Games.

A game you were playing even now.

The same game that you couldn’t have escaped if you wanted to, and the one that was currently tearing apart any semblance of a normal life that you’d built for yourself since the first time.

It was all going to be gone soon enough, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Not even if you wanted to.

Still, the almost certain death wasn’t even the worst part of the whole thing. You had come to terms with your mortality when you were fifteen, fighting for your life. The worst part was that the other tributes weren’t strangers now.

They weren’t other kids you had never met, and didn’t have to care about if you didn’t want to.

This time, the other tributes were people you had known, friends bonded to you by the trauma only they could understand, and you weren’t kids anymore. Now, you were much older, and much more skilled.

…and the facts remained.

Just because you had survived the Hunger Games once, didn’t mean that you stood any chance of doing it again.

Then, there was the biggest issue of all.

Finnick.

Finnick Odair had won the Hunger Games the year before you, placing him the closest to you in succession. He understood what it was like to win something like that young, and how it felt to live with yourself after.

He knew you, and at first, it was a gift.

You finally felt seen by someone, who wanted you for more than what you could do for them and what you had done. He knew that just because everyone else praised you for winning, you would regret those actions all your life.

He knew, and you never felt alone when you were with him.

Not that being with him was as much of a blessing as it seemed to be, because before long, this world found a way to take it from one just like everything else.

Another Hunger Games.

A Quarter Quell made up of entirely victors.

At first, you could hardly believe it, but the more time that passed, the more numb to it you seemed to find yourself feeling.

You shouldn’t have been surprised. In fact, the only thing that shocked you about being back in the Capitol was that they hadn’t thought to drag you back here before now.

In a sick way, it felt like home.

Like where you had always been meant to be, even when you were away.

Even the training room felt more familiar to you than your own home, because here, everyone saw you for what you were.  You weren’t some incredible warrior to be revered in the streets, you were just that scared kid again.

Terrified of every moment after the last, and constantly waiting for the world to crumble down around her.

It would have been an almost welcome reunion, if it hadn’t been for the one nagging piece of information, forcing itself into your every thought even as you tried to ignore it.

He was here somewhere.

You had seen him during the opening ceremony, all decked out on his chariot, but even then, you didn’t have the guts to face him.

It wouldn’t change anything.

There was nothing either of you could do that was going to make anything any different and you’d be fools to think any differently.

It was what it was.

You had accepted that, but you knew that Finnick would have a hard time doing the same.

He always thought that he could make the world what he wanted it to be but having people like him wasn’t going to be enough to save his life now.

Nothing could save either of you.

The sooner he realized that, the better off he would be. You were just trying to speed up the process before you had to watch him die or bleed out yourself in that arena.

~

Your fingers were tight to your knife as you swung it at the dummy in front of you, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand. This should have been easy for you, it had always been easy before.

There was just too much on your mind right now.

Too much going on.

“Are you avoiding me?” Finnick hummed, closing the space between the two of you just enough to call out, without being within arms length of your blade. He didn’t need reminding of how good you were with it.

As long as he could avoid it, at least.

“Nope” you allowed, a frustrating breath leaving your lips as you swung again, missing your mark for the third time.

If you didn’t get a handle on this, you were going to get yourself killed, you knew that. Though, at this point, you weren’t even sure you cared.

At least if you were dead, they couldn’t make you kill anyone anymore.

“Really? Cause this is the first time I’ve talked to you since you got here” he sighed, acting as if he’d caught you in a bluff, knowing that it didn’t matter. This whole thing had been hard on everyone.

Himself included, but Finnick knew how you’d react.

How you always reacted.

“There isn’t anything to say” you spoke again, your jaw locked tight as you tried to focus more on the task at hand than the man at your back, who you both knew wasn’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon.

You weren’t shocked he was here.

In fact, you had been waiting on this conversation since the news of his reaping had met your ears but that didn’t mean you were ready to dive head first into it.

It wouldn’t change anything.

Whatever it was the two of you were before, you couldn’t be it anymore. You weren’t married, and you weren’t a couple. You had just had a couple good nights, and bonded over some drinks.

Hell, even if you were a couple, it didn’t matter now.

You were tributes before anything, and before long, one or both of you was going to be dead. Pretending that wasn’t the case wasn’t going to change it, and it would just hurt to act like anything else was possible.

It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but you weren’t delusional.

There was no instance where the two of you could be together, not anymore. When you were both just two people who had won the Hunger Games, two victors in your own right, maybe you could make it work.

…but now, now you are competitors.

Finnick was the enemy, no matter how much you wished he wasn’t.

“That’s a joke” the male scoffed, not understanding why you were acting as if you were already dead. The situation you were in wasn’t ideal, of course, but he’d always preferred to live in the moment.

At least, until he couldn’t anymore.

“No, it isn't,” you countered, finally turning to face him after you’d lodged your knife directly into the soft thoracic cavity of the dummy in front of you, boht out of frustration with yourself and with Finnick.

This wasn’t like anything else in his life.

He couldn’t just charm his way out of this, not this time.

“You know what happens when the cannon goes off. You know that we can’t do this anymore” you continued, emphasizing the word ‘this’ gesturing between the two of you. You didn’t know what to call it, and you didn’t care enough to figure it out.

It was over.

That just was how it had to be.

“You know, if you relaxed, you’d have ripped that thing open by now” he pointed out, ignoring your words entirely, as if he hadn’t heard them at all.

You were one of the most capable hand-to-hand fighters he’d ever seen, and you could have done this in your sleep. The only reason you were struggling today was because your heart wasn’t in it.

You were too busy using your head to focus.

“What?” you groaned, probably looking at the man as if he’d sprouted a second head. He could never just say on topic.

It was almost as if he was living in his own little world within his head, making up the rules as he went.

Just once, it would have been nice for Finnick to explain himself.

“Stop thinking so hard,” he scoffed, thumping you lightly with his finger on the center of your forehead, earning another frustrated groan from your lips as you tried to come to terms with the fact that he’d just done that.

He was such a child sometimes.

“I hate you” you bit, trying to ignore the way the smirk on his lips made your stomach tighten, instead setting your attention on the task you’d been focused on.

The dummy gave way rather quickly under your grap, the knife coming loose with a little force. If only it was so easy in practice, maybe then you could actually stay alive out there, against all your old allies.

As stubborn as always, you got to work, trying to keep your mind at bay as you struck the surface, intentionally ignoring the blonde at your back.

You could only hope that if you kept ignoring him, he would eventually go away.

“I don’t think you do,'' Finnick hummed, and you could practically hear the grin on his face, followed by his breath on the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you that much more.

He was insufferable.

You let out another audible sigh, a clear cue to him that he needed to back up but he had already made up his mind.

Finnick wasn’t going to let you shut him out because you were scared.

You were better than that.  

You have always been better than that.

“I do. I hate you” you repeated, this time sounded more as if you were trying to convince yourself than him.

Perhaps that was because you knew that you couldn’t convince him of anything, or because you knew that what you were saying was a lie. In any case, it didn’t matter because you didn’t have time to figure it out.

All you had time for now was trying to make it out of this alive.

Again.

“Prove it” Finnick pushed that much more, resting his hands on your hips lightly and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. You faltered lightly, feeling his strong chest against your back but did your best to hide it.

You had to stick to your guns.

This wasn’t something you were doing out of spite, or because you were trying to punish him.

You didn’t have a choice.

Quickly, you spun on your heels away from him, leaning your weight against the dummy at your back now, pressing your blade to his throat.

Now, it was Finnick’s turn to draw in a breath, his jugular pushing against your knife.

“This isn’t about us. This is about survival” you explained, your words little more than a whisper as you kept a close eye on the man in front of you. You both knew he could get out of this if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to.

Believe it or not, he would have preferred this over the silent treatment.

“When are you going to learn?” he questioned, drawing the words out like honey from his soft lips as he admired the fire in your eyes.

It had always been there, blazing just beneath the surface, waiting for any excuse to come out. It was one of the things he’d always found so captivating about you, even now.

You were going to question him, watching as Finnick took another step toward you, the tension between your blade and his skin threatening to snap at any moment, not that he seemed to care at all.

He wasn’t even phased, not that you should have been surprised.

“We are all there is.”

You wanted to argue.

More than you had ever wanted anything, you wanted to tell him that he was wrong and that he was being unreasonable, but you couldn’t.

Deep down, in the sparkling pools of his blue eyes, you could see just how much Finnick meant what he was saying and even though it didn’t make any sense, you believed him.

Against all odds, you believed him.

[promenadewithme]

First of all, I want to thank all of you so much for the follows, likes, comments, reblogs and support in general! I can't believe I hit 50 followers so soon! I know it’s not much, but I actually didn’t expect any at all so I’m so happy!! Thank you ❤️

Now, this is how the celebration is going to work: first you chose a song and a character. Then send it to my requests with your pronoun of choice, along with any other specifications and I'll write you a fic based on the song! You can either send the song or specific quotes as prompts

To find the fics I will write, use the #Anastasia's 50 followers celebration

This event starts today (May 20th) and ends June 10th

Support Me on Ko-Fi - if you’re feeling generous 💕

Songs:

Fluff (Romantic)

Paper Rings - Taylor Swift

London Boy - Taylor Swift

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Lover - Taylor Swift

King of My Heart - Taylor Swift

Willow - Taylor Swift

Crazier - Taylor Swift

New Year’s Day - Taylor Swift

Daylight - Taylor Swift

Jump Then Fall - Taylor Swift

How You Get The Girl - Taylor Swift

You Are In Love - Taylor Swift

It’s Nice To Have A Friend - Taylor Swift

Today Was A Fairytale - Taylor Swift

State Of Grace - Taylor Swift

Mine - Taylor Swift

Delicate - Taylor Swift

Say You Won't Let Go - James Arthur

Naked - James Arthur

Rewrite The Stars - James Arthur + Anne-Marie

I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz

I'm Yours - Jason Mraz

Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran

Tenerife Sea - Ed Sheeran

How Would You Feel (Paean) - Ed Sheeran

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Afterglow - Ed Sheeran

Lego House - Ed Sheeran

Dive - Ed Sheeran

Galway Girl - Ed Sheeran

Everything Has Changed - Ed Sheeran + Taylor Swift

I Was Made For Loving You - Tori Kelly + Ed Sheeran

Make You Feel My Love -Adele

One Call Away - Charlie Puth

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Just The Way You Are - Bruno Mars

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Little Things - One Direction

Night Changes - One Direction

Can't Help Falling In Love - Elvis Presley

Andante, Andante - ABBA

Waterloo - ABBA

All Of Me - John Legend

Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish

Snowman - Sia

A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Arms - Christina Perri

Teenage Dream - Katy Perry

Halo - Beyoncé

The Only Exception - Paramore

Dandelions - Ruth B

Someone To You - BANNERS

Would You Be So Kind - Dodie

Someone You Like - The Girl and The Dreamcatcher

If I Could Tell Her - Ben Platt 

Absolutely Smitten - Dodie

How Long Will I Love - Ellie Goulding

Angst (Romantic)

Good 4 u - Olivia Rodrigo

Drivers License - Olivia Rodrigo

Deja Vu - Olivia Rodrigo

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo

Traitor - Olivia Rodrigo

Enough For You - Olivia Rodrigo

1 step forward, 3 steps back - Olivia Rodrigo

Happier - Olivia Rodrigo

Jealousy, Jealousy- Olivia Rodrigo

Favourite Crime - Olivia Rodrigo

Hope Ur Ok - Olivia Rodrigo

Betty - Taylor Swift

Exile - Taylor Swift

Teardrops On My Guitar - Taylor Swift

Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Tolerate It - Taylor Swift

You’re Not Sorry - Taylor Swift

Should’ve Said No - Taylor Swift

White Horse - Taylor Swift

You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift

My Tears Ricochet - Taylor Swift

Back to December - Taylor Swift

Breathe - Taylor Swift

The 1 - Taylor Swift

All Too Well - Taylor Swift

Invisible String - Taylor Swift

Evermore - Taylor Swift

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez

When I Was Your Man -Bruno Mars

Someone Like You - Adele

Hello - Adele

All I Ask - Adele

Let Her Go - Passenger

Say Something - A Great Big World

Stay With Me - Sam Smith

California King Bed - Rihanna

Take a Bow - Rihanna

Broken Hearted Girl - Beyoncé

Tonight I Wanna Cry - Keith Urban

The Winner Takes It All - ABBA

SOS - ABBA

One Of Us - ABBA

Half a Heart - One Direction

Yesterday - The Beatles

If The World Was Ending - Julia Michaels

Colors - Halsey

Happier - Ed Sheeran

One Last Time - Ariana Grande

Why’d You Only Call Me When You High - Artic Monkeys

Play Date - Melanie Martinez

Just a Friend to You - Meghan Trainor

All I Want - Kodaline

Love You From A Distance - Ashley Kutcher

Potential Breakup Song - Aly & AJ

I Don’t Wanna See You With Her - Maria Mena

Let Her Go - Passenger

All My Tears - Ane Brun

Always On My Mind - Elvis Presley

Someone to you - Lewis Capaldi 

Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

Others

Sit Still, Look Pretty - Daya

How To Be A Heartbreaker - MARINA

No Body, No Crime - Taylor Swift

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Blank Space - Taylor Swift

You Need To Calm Down - Taylor Swift

Getaway Car -Taylor Swift

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

Bad Blood - Taylor Swift

The Man - Taylor Swift

22 - Taylor Swift

Dorothea - Taylor Swift

Marjorie - Taylor Swift

The Best Day - Taylor Swift

Mirrorball - Taylor Swift

I Forgot That You Existed - Taylor Swift

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things - Taylor Swift

The Lakes - Taylor Swift

The Last Great American Dynasty - Taylor Swift

Since U Been Gone - Kelly Clarkson

When I Kissed The Teacher - ABBA

I Have A Dream - ABBA

I've Been Waiting For You - ABBA

You'll Be In My Heart - Phil Collins

Titanium - David Guetta (feat. Sia)

F**ckin' Perfect - P!nk

New Rules - Dua Lipa

IDGAF - Dua Lipa

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

You Should See Me in A Crown - Billie Eilish

COPYCAT - Billie Eilish

Count On Me - Bruno Mars

Stand By You - Rachel Platten

Firework - Katy Perry

Because You Loved Me - Céline Dion

See You Again - Wiz Khalifa + Charlie Puth

NO - Meghan Trainor

Skyfall - Adele

Gasoline - Halsey

Castle On The Hill - Ed Sheeran

Save Myself - Ed Sheeran

Supermarket Flowers - Ed Sheeran

Small Bump - Ed Sheeran

Growing Up - Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, Ed Sheeran

7 Rings - Ariana Grande

Bad Liar - Selena Gomez

Rare - Selena Gomez

Who Says - Selena Gomez

I Turn To You - Christina Aguilera

Till There Was You - The Beatles

Sweetest Devotion - Adele

ps: sorry, I'm a Swiftie and a Sheerio <3

Characters

Character x fem! or GN! reader (ROMANTIC)

ACOTAR: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Helion, Tarquin, kallias and Tamlin.

BRIDGERTON: Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton and Simon Basset.

GRISHAVERSE: Nikolai, Mal, The Darkling, Kaz, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan and David.

THRONE OF GLASS: Dorian Havilliard and Chaol Westfall.

HARRY POTTER: Harry, Ron, Neville, Draco, George, Fred, Oliver, Cedric, Young Sirius, Young James and Young Remus.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley.

MARVEL: Steve, Bucky, Sam, Pietro, Loki, Thor, Peter Parker, Ned, Tony, Bruce, Vision, Clint, T'Challa, Scott Lang, James Rhodes, Peter Quill and Stephen Strange.

THE HUNGER GAMES: Peeta, Gale and Finnick.

GREY'S ANATOMY: Derek Shepherd, Andrew DeLuca, Alex Karev, Jackson Avery, Mark Sloan, George O'Malley, Link, Koracick and Ben Warren.

TEEN WOLF: Scott, Stiles, Derek, Isaac, Liam and Jackson.

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: Damon, Stefan, Matt, Klaus, Elijah and Kai.

NARNIA: Peter, Edmund and Caspian.

STAR WARS: Anakin, Obi Wan, Kylo, Han, Luke, Poe, Finn and Din Djarin.

Character x platonic!/sis!/bro!/enemy!/daughter!/son!/mentor!/or anything else platonic Reader

ACOTAR: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Feure, Nesta, Elain, Mor, Amren, Nyx, Lucien, Tarquin, Helion, Kallias, Tamlin, Ianthe, Suriel and Bone Carver.

GRISHAVERSE: Nikolai, Mal, Darkling, David, Alina, Bahgra, Zoya, Tamar, Tolya, Apparat, Kaz, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Inej, Tantee Heleen and Pekka Rollins.

THRONE OF GLASS: Dorian, Chaol and Aelin.

BRIDGERTON: Anthony, Benedict, Colin; Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, Hyacinth, Lady Violet, Simon, Lady Danbury, Penelope, Lady Portia Featherington, Marina, Sienna, Genevieve, Cressida and Queen Charlotte.

HARRY POTTER: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Draco, George, Fred, Oliver, Cedric, Cho, Seamus, Fleur, Pansy, Myrtle, Sirius (old or young), James (old or young), Remus (old or young), Lily (old or young), Molly, Arthur, Bill, Percy, Charlie, Xenophilus Lovegood, Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Moody, Flitwick, Umbridge, Bellatrix, Voldemort, Lucius, Narcissa, Peter Pettigrew, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Dobby and Nearly Headless Nick.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: Mr Darcy, Georgiana Darcy, Mr Bingley, Caroline Bingley, Elizabeth Bennet, Jane Bennet, Mary Bennet, Lydia Bennet, Catherine Bennet, Charlotte Lucas, Wickam, Mr Collins, Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet.

MARVEL: Steve, Peggy, Sharon, Natasha, Bucky, Sam, Carol, Monica Rambeau, Pietro, Wanda, Agatha Harkness, Loki, Frigga, Odin, Hela, Thor, Heimdall, Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, Valkyrie, Peter Parker, Ned, MJ, Tony, Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Howard, Bruce, Vision, Clint, T'Challa, Shuri, Scott, Hope, Hank, Cassie, James Rhodes, Peter Quill, Gamora, Mantis, Nebula, Groot, Rocket, Drax, Stephen Strange, Wong, Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Maria Hill, Thanos, Ancient One, Red Skull, Ultron, John Walker and Zemo.

THE HUNGER GAMES: Katniss, Peeta, Gale, Finnick, Haymitch, Rue, President Snow, Primrose, Effie, Cinna and Johanna.

GREY'S ANATOMY: Meredith, Derek, Andrew, Alex, Jackson, Mark, Lexie, Cristina, April, Izzie, George, Callie, Owen, Addison, Arizona, Miranda, Amelia, Link, Burke, Teddy, Maggie, Richard, Carina, Ben Warren, Megan Hunt, Ellis Grey, Catherine Avery and Tom Koracick.

TEEN WOLF: Scott, Stiles, Malia, Lydia, Allison, Derek, Isaac, Liam, Jackson, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Sheriff Stilinski, Kira, Melissa McCall and Noshiko Yukimura.

THE VAMPIRE DIARIES: Damon, Elena, Katherine, Stefan, Caroline, Bonnie, Jenna, Klaus, Elijah, Rebeka, Sheriff Forbes, Kai and Lexi.

NARNIA: Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, Caspian and Aslan.

STAR WARS: Anakin, Padme, Yoda, Jarjar, Obi Wan, Kylo, Rey, Han, Leia, Luke, Poe, Finn and Din Djarin and Grogu.

No pressure tags: @venuswritesfanfic @for-bebbanburg @maggiescarborough @multifandomfix @sweetnspicysimp @lazypeachsoul @magravenwrites

[jamilelucato]

Satisfied [F. W.]

Summary: y/N Bilmes is the daughter of the owner of the Zonko’s Joke Shop, Bilton Bilmes, and, in her sister’s wedding day, she remembers a night with Fred Weasley when she learned she would never be satisfied.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Bilmes!reader (platonic)

Musical Hogwarts Series || Harry Potter Masterlist

A/N: it’s angsty because this song is angst! But I hope you all like it! It has an open end, where you can interpret it as you see fit. PS: gif is not mine so I have no idea if that’s really James (Fred) or Oliver lol. PS 2: Bilton Bilmes is the guy who works at Zonko’s when you play the app Hogwarts Mystery and my quick research told me that Bilmes might be the owner now, who knows.

Based on the song Satisfied from the musical Hamilton (no need to like the song to read/understand the fic!)

“Alright, alright. That’s what I’m talkin’ about! Now, everyone, give it up for the maid of honour: y/N Bilmes!” 

Lee Jordan’s voice echoed through the ballroom, accompanied by clapping. You stood up, wiping your hands on the skirt of the blue dress, chosen by your sister.

It was a beautiful model, with a slightly rounded skirt. The blue subtly highlighted your skin tone, but it certainly wouldn’t have been the colour you would’ve chosen.

Taking your wand out of your pocket, you marched to the small arranged stage and subtly cleared your throat.

“A toast to the groom!” you exclaimed, as soon as you chose a place to stand. You were in front of your sister, who had one of the most beautiful smiles on her face. You were avoiding looking at the groom, though.

The crowd of guests — your sister could not limit herself to inviting only the most intimate — echoed your words, raising her glasses of champagne. “To the groom!”

“To the bride!” you continued.

“To the bride!” mimicked the crowd.

“From your sister, who is always by your side,” you allowed yourself to smile while keeping your eyes fixed on your sister. “To your union!”

“To the revolution!” added some guests.

You shook your head, pretending not to mind the interruption of the guests.

“And the hope that you provide!” unconsciously, you brought the tip of your wand closer to your neck and the sensation was uncomfortable, but you kept smiling.

It was a beautiful scene, after all. 

Your youngest and only sister was getting married. And she was a beautiful bride...

“May you always...” you couldn’t avoid the groom any longer, “...be satisfied.”

The groom you were avoiding looking at was none other than Fred Weasley. And he was the love of your life. But the love of his life, unfortunately, was your sister.

He was beautiful that night. He had combed his red hair back and was probably using hair gel. His black suit clutched in the right places, enhancing the muscles earned in puberty.

In that light of the ballroom, his appearance reminded you of a night not long before this one...

You remember that night, and you just might regret that night for the rest of your days. You remember those soldier boys, believing they were the kings of the world just because they battled in the Battle Of Hogwarts. They were tripping over themselves to win the praise of the girls.

Hogwarts had been just reconstructed, but it looked as beautiful as ever. Generally, you and your sister avoided attending these types of social gala events, but as your own father said: the occasion was worth it.

The new Great Hall was decorated with dreamlike candles, like a dream that you can’t quite place.

You could have been distracted by the setting for hours and hours. Of course, that would have been if Fred Weasley hadn’t come in the front door as if he owned the space.

Fred, I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face, you thought.

Since that night, you have never been the same. He had intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame. He was saying hi to everyone, smiling brightly. Apparently, everyone knew who he was. You weren’t familiar with him, however.

When he walked towards you and said “Hi,” you forgot your social manners. It was rather embarrassing.

He chuckled at your blushed cheeks. 

You weren’t used to talking to guys, but he had set your heart aflame, every part.

“Dance with me,” he asked, noticing the songs had changed.

Hesitantly, it took you a second to regain your courage and accept the hand he held out to you. The band played a song with an unromantic but slow-paced lyrics, so several other couples were clinging to each other on the improvised dance floor.

Fred was a gentleman, holding you close to him, but with an impressive delicacy. You didn’t have much experience with men, but you knew from your friends’ stories in France that they could be quite inconvenient.

The dress you were wearing was a red a shade darker than the boy’s hair, which made it look like you two matched even more. He wore a two-piece suit with an orange shirt, but the suit was slightly greenish.

He didn’t try any risky dance moves, he just swung you from side to side, and you were grateful for that. He had a worse effect on you than drinking a whole bottle of alcohol, and if he tried a more difficult dance than that, you were sure it would be shameful.

“You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied,” he whispered, close to your left ear.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself,” his commented made you feel offended for a split second, so you leaned away from Fred a bit.

“You’re like me,” he said, in sweeter tone.“I’m never satisfied”

He was trying to show you that being satisfied was not a bad thing. It meant you always wanted more. And he could be right about that.

“Is that right?” you tried to sound as charming as you could, using all of the flirting tactics that your Beauxbatons friends taught you.

“I have never been satisfied,” he sighed, not in a tired way, but in an enchanting way like he was playing the same game as you.

The song, unfortunately, was over and the band drastically changed the tune to something more agitated. Some couples left the dance floor, but you and the red-haired boy stayed there, only letting go of each other but remaining very close.

You decided it was time to present yourself. “My name is y/N Bilmes.”

“Fred Weasley,” he informed smirking. 

“Weasley?” you repeated. The name seemed familiar.

“Yeah, but don’t let it fool you. There are a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait,” he shrugged, nervously, and offered to get yourselves a drink which you accepted.

While he was gone, somethings started to click in your mind. Your eyes wandered the room, looking for your sister. Would she like to know that you finally found someone at your level?

Fred made you feel the feeling of freedom, of seein’ the light in just a couple of minutes, perhaps a bit more. Every word said was in total agreement; he seemed to know more about you than you did yourself.

But then, you asked about his family, and his answer wasn’t promising. His hands started fidgeting, he looked askance — but his words were just trying to distract you. An attempt of making you forget who the Weasleys were, but with him away from you, the information appeared. The Weasleys were penniless, and a big, huge family.

But he is so handsome! Yeah, there was a peach fuzz that he can’t even grow, but somehow, that didn’t erase his charm. You wanted him. You desired him.

Maybe he could be yours, at least for the night. Your French friends did it all the time... Sure, you were bound to catch feelings, but he could catch them too, right?

Then you turned and saw your sister’s face, and she was helpless. She was following Fred with her eyes, and you needed no more signs of how she was feeling. Probably because you were feeling the same.

You realized three fundamental truths at the exact same time…

Fred came to you, giving you the second drink in his hands, but you barely grabbed before reaching for his arm and making him walk.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked after sipping his drink.

“I’m about to change your life,” you forced yourself to smile when he stared at you.

“Then, by all means, lead the way,” he smiled back.

The first thing you realized: You were a girl in a world in which your job was to marry rich. Not that your father would be mad if you didn’t, but the family had a significant debt that no one knew about, and it was you the one suppose to pay it.

You were the oldest and the wittiest, and the gossip in the Wizarding World was insidious, and Fred was penniless. As a Weasley, anyway, he had to be very much poor...

Perhaps he was rising... Wasn’t he one of the owners of that Joke Shop in Diagon Alley that your father was bothered about?

Ha! That doesn’t mean I want him any less, you thought.

You had approached your sister, who exchanged looks from you to the handsome boy. You raised your brows and tilted your head, wanting to say: present yourself.

She gulped before offering him her hand. “Elizabeth Bilmes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Fred handed you his glass as he grabbed her hand with both of his.

“Bilmes?”

“My sister,” you explained, but he still seemed confused.

“No, it’s just... the name sounds familiar.”

“Oh! Our father owns the Zonkos’s Joke Shop!” exclaimed Eliza, happy to help. “Perhaps you know him.”

Fred turned his face to you. “Why didn’t you mention?” he asked, but he wasn’t mad — he was excited.

There was the second thing you realized:

He’s after you because you’re a Bilmes heir, which would elevate his status— you’d have to be naïve to set that aside.

Maybe that is why you introduce him to Eliza, and, now, that’s his bride.

Nice going, y/N, he was right — you will never be satisfied.

Eliza was smart enough to continue the conversation while you were spacing out. “Thank you for all your service.”

It was well-known that the Weasleys played a significant part in the Battle, primarily because they were Harry Potter’s family.

“If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” Fred kissed her hand, but he kept his eyes on hers.

You were about to roll your eyes or vomit — which one was going to happen first you had no idea— so you decided it was time to leave.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

They didn’t even look back at you, so you just turned and walked away. With both Fred’s and your drinks on hand, you drank them fastly, not even caring for the bad taste it left in your mouth.

You couldn’t look back; you couldn’t let your mind wander about the likelihood that your sister and Fred were already kissing.

Eliza has always been more proficient with boys than you, even though she was shy and humbled, her face called attention, and it didn’t take long for a brave boy to court her. Even more different from you, she always accepted.

The third thing you realized that night:

You knew your sister like you know your own mind — you will never find anyone as trusting or as kind. If you told her that you love him, she’d be silently resigned — he’d be yours.

She would say, “I’m fine”, but she’d be lying.

You walked directly towards the bar, getting yourself a couple more drinks. You would need it.

Your father bumped into you, asking what was wrong, but he would never understand. He just couldn’t.

Maybe your mom would, but at the moment, she was back in Paris.

But when you fantasize at night, it’s Fred’s eyes, as you romanticize what might have been if you hadn’t sized him up so quickly.

At least your dear Eliza’s his wife; at least you keep his eyes in your life…

But you knew, as you watched their relationship grow — as you were obliged to listen to your sister ramble to you how gorgeous and romantic Fred was — you knew he would never be satisfied. But so wouldn’t you.

Shaking your head for a what felt like a full minute you were finally able to look way from Fred and so finally able to lock the memory of that night forever in your mind.

Putting the wand back in the dress pocked, you walked down the stage towards the couple’s table, and you let a tear go down. Eliza would think you were moved by the wedding; only you would know the truth.

You could hear claps, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll always be by your side,” you whispered to your sister as you hugged her tight. She cried too, but she was way more emotional than you.

You knew who you had to hug after her.

And he was already up waiting.

“May you always be satisfied,” you whispered to Fred as you hugged him, letting yourself breath his perfume guiltless.

You felt him gulp to your words, but he said nothing and pressed his hands on your waist harder than before.

The door of the ballroom was abruptly open, and every face in the place turned to see who it was. Fred let go of you and smiled when he noticed who was walking.

Eliza seemed to be smiling too, and she rushed to the door, following her groom.

“Who’s that?” you asked the lovely woman sitting down closer to you, but she was also so happy that you thought she wasn’t going to answer.

“Fred’s brother,” she explained to your surprise.

You looked at her table where already five of Fred’s siblings were sat.

“Another?”

The pretty red-haired girl answered after giggling.

“That one is his twin,” she said while you both — and all the guests — watched the touching hug Fred shared with the man walking in. “He left just after the war; he was so traumatized with almost dying and almost losing Fred.”

“He wanted to calm down alone,” added one of the red-haired boys who was seating next to the girl.

“Harry did the same, so the whole family understood George’s point,” finished the girl.

You stared back at Eliza, Fred and Fred’s twin. Eliza did mention Fred had a brother just like him, but you thought she meant like someone with similar personalities, not the same face.

The three walked towards the family table, and all of the red-hairs got up.

“Oh, Georgie!” gasped the elder woman before hugging the tall man.

He hugged everyone, even your parents and he stopped next to you.

Eliza made the introductions.

“George, this is y/N, my sister,” Eliza said, putting a hand on your shoulder while you offered your hand to the man.

George looked down at your hand, but completely ignored and pulled you in a hug, that made you gasp in surprise. He had a tight embrace.

“We’re family now, y/N. Get used to hugs,” he muttered before letting you go.

You smiled, sympathetic. He was as beautiful as his twin, but somehow his eyes were... better.

“She’s like my own twin,” continued Eliza to George who chuckled at the comment. “Sure, we don‘t look alike. But she’s everything to me.”

“Thanks, sis. You’re all to me too.”

The twins laughed at your exchange of love with your sister, and you two pretended to be angry. Then your father asked for the floor, and the whole moment was interrupted.

Someone got George a chair right next to yours, so you were both facing your father, and he kept thanking the boys for buying the Zonko’s and restoring it.

“I knew my best costumers would be my bosses one day,” he said, and the whole place laughed.

It was George who requested to talk after, and he made such a cute speech that even you were moved. It seemed that George was the emotional one from the twins, much like Eliza was the emotional one from you and her.

“And I’m sorry I came a little late,” George continued just before ending. “Forgot the address I had to Apparate.”

As expected, he finished making everyone laugh.

The night went on better than you imagined. There was a moment there when your French friends made you embarrassed, then it was your parents’ opportunity to make you ashamed, but after a couple of drinkings, you were laughing at their dance moves.

All the Weasleys were marvellous, and all of Fred’s brothers danced with you, even the married one — even though the dance you two shared was much more to make everyone laugh at your moderns moves than anything else.

You knew Fleur, his wife, from back at school, so you two talked for a couple of minutes about the time at Beauxbatons.

And you also danced with George, who was a fun guy with a beautiful smile. He talked about his time away from home — how much about himself he learned, like how different from his twin he was.

“But at the end of the day, I missed him more than anything,” he had said, and you could only imagine how hurt that boy must have been to feel like leaving all his friends and family behind.

You laid your head on his shoulder while he moved around you, and the music slowed down. He realized that you were breathing hard.

“What’s it?’ asked George whispering.

“My sister,” you said simply. That was all you could tell.

Your sister was still beautiful, even after sweating on the dance floor, and now she was tied to Fred, just as you clung to George. They suddenly turned, and you looked at Fred, who smiled sadly in your direction.

“She’ll be happy as his bride,” you said to George, taking your head off his shoulder and looking him in the eye.

George seemed to agree, but he said nothing.

“And she’ll be satisfied.”

He then tilted his head, firming his hand on your waist.

“What about you?”

“Huh?” you frowned, confused.

“Are you satisfied?”

You took one last look at Fred over his twin’s shoulder before facing George again. And what seemed unlikely, happened — you smiled, this time, truly happy.

“I’ll never be satisfied.”