#i ADORE spooky season
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seeyalaterinnovator · 3 months ago
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AH SPOOKY SEASON WITH BOB I MIGHT DIE
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"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allan Poe 🐦‍⬛ 👻 ✨ | (a spooky au)
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gummywormsandkitkats · 3 months ago
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I have chosen a side for this year's skeleton war-
And boy, do I have plans for these~ (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
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shadowisabean · 2 months ago
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Shadow LOVES the pumpkin patch! 🎃
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lichtluv · 1 year ago
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━━•❃°•°❃°•°❃•━━
𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧
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𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝙙𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧.
━━•❃°•°❃°•°❃•━━
༄ 𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕 𝒗𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅.
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hankiki · 3 months ago
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random~🍁🍂
I love these misty autumn mornings and the fresh cool air. There's something so magical and cozy about it.🎃💜
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respect-the-stache · 1 year ago
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You all ought to see Darky right about now -- they're practically lighting up the store as they pick out decorations! And their ideas -- oh, you should hear the nifty thoughts running through my gumdrop's head ^^
~ᗯIᒪ
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fluffyzhana · 1 year ago
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Ventriloquents! A creature I cooked up for a Halloween tabletop session.
They silence your voice with a single bite. They shroud you in darkness and extinguish your light. But don't be scared, and don't you fret. They're only hiding you from the bigger threat.
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moonfromearth · 1 year ago
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- My horoscope forgot to mention anything about escaping a serial killer... B-but I'll do my best to help... If I can.
Day Five - The Academic
"Nerdy, kind-hearted, and loyal. They're either finding clever ways to outwit the killer or making the cast easy prey - by accident of course.
from @windbrook's Slashed Challenge.
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iambecomeafangirl · 2 years ago
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I love Scully's hair, I love her outfits, I love how she makes little jokes while with Mulder, I love how proffesional she is, I love her face and I love her brain. I love how her personality fits Mulder's. I love their friendship and how they balance each other out. I love Dana Scully.
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hoenn-hakase · 3 months ago
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Not mine, but can I give a shout out to all the restaurant chalk board artists out there? <3
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shy-nightmare · 4 months ago
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Only two days left of Augustober. And you know what that means?
63 days until Halloween! 🎃
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Enjoy this adorable Jack-'o-lantern kitten in the meantime 😊
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hostess-of-horror · 1 year ago
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... this is perhaps the most cutest video I have ever seen. And I've seen many cute videos.
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obimaulartfire · 1 year ago
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My beautiful, beautiful followers. Halloween is my favorite holiday, so Iiiii was wondering, do y'all have any ideas on what I should do for it on this blog? Spooky season recs? Definitely planning on drawing Spider-maul ay some point, but do you have ideas!
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alygator77 · 2 months ago
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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ
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ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader
ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.
ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse from naoya but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical)
ꨄ words: 10.5k
ꨄ a/n. hello my mhm lovelies :') i've missed writing this fic dearly! please note, this is not chapter 7—however, i will be releasing ch 7 this month. this is just a fun little side chapter with some family domesticity for the autumn season. taking place sometime after reader/satoru become official. ♡
ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)
♬ playlist
series masterlist ꨄ︎
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ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness
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As the crisp autumn air has arrived, it brings with it a feeling of change—and perhaps nature itself is subtly acknowledging just how much your life has shifted.
It’s baffling. Your time in the Gojo estate has been nothing short of eventful—and it feels like just yesterday you stood in front of Satoru, proposing an arrangement that was as unexpected as it was necessary. But now, with the leaves turning a fiery shade of red, orange, and gold, you realize just how quietly and quickly fall has crept in.
And with all this change, your relationship with Satoru has begun to reshape as well—a new chapter, freshly inked. No secrets, no acts—just the three of you, finding your footing in this new arrangement you’ve embarked on.
But one thing hasn’t changed—Satoru simply can’t say no to Haru.
It’s something that’s too cute for its own good—watching him wrapped around her small little finger, treating her like the princess she is. Ahh…but it’s even cuter how he tries to hide it. Satoru has a heart of gold, and though he may use his wit and charm as a mask, you’ve come to see through most of his tricks now—especially when it involves Haru.
And Haru? Well, lately she has really started to become attached to Satoru—in ways that even surprise you. Everything has been ‘toru this - ‘toru that. The trouble with it? Well... ’toru doesn’t have all the experience of handling a kid, let alone a two-year-old. But day by day, he is learning.
Fall is Haru’s favorite season, ironic given her name translates to “spring.” She adores everything about it—the cool, crisp air that calls for cuddles and cozy sweaters, the cinnamon pumpkin treats that have become a staple in the kitchen, and the magic of “spooky season,” as she calls it.
The latest item on her list? A trip to the pumpkin patch.
The idea had come up over breakfast, as you sipped your chai and watched Haru list off her autumn plans with boundless enthusiasm. The moment she had flashed those wide, hopeful eyes at you both, of course Satoru offered to take her—he stepped in immediately and you’d been surprised but delighted by the offer.
And now, you’re embarking on this journey together—off to the pumpkin patch. You head down the stairs of the Gojo’s estate with Haru’s little hand nestled in yours—chattering excitedly about all the things she wants to do and see at the pumpkin patch.
“Let’s find a big pumpkin, Mama! I wanna pet the animals!”
You smile, nodding along, but as you reach the end of the stairs, glancing into the foyer, you’re greeted by a sight entirely unexpected.
Satoru leans casually against the banister, scrolling through his phone, but he’s dressed down in a way you’ve never seen. Gone are his usual tailored suits and designer dress shoes—instead, he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, a pair of well-worn jeans, and, most surprisingly, a black beanie snug over his white hair. The only familiar accessory he wears is that pair of round, dark sunglasses resting upon the bridge of his nose.
Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, he glances up from his phone, grinning.
“Well, look at you, Mr. Gojo,” you smirk, stepping closer. “You almost look…normal.”
A low hum rumbles from his chest as he takes off his sunglasses for a moment, letting you catch sight of that familiar twinkle in his eyes.
“Almost?” he feigns offense, pushing off from the banister. “Aw man, that’s disappointing, considering that this,” he gestures at his outfit, “is premium low-profile attire.”
You snort, reaching up to playfully tug on one of the strings of his hoodie.
“I didn’t realize you had a whole ‘undercover’ look ready to go.”
“Well… yeah,” he leans forward and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Life of a celebrity, sweetheart. Last thing we need is the pumpkin paparazzi swarming us. I’d rather they didn’t ruin Haru’s big day out.”
His words make you pause, a gentle warmth filling your chest at his thoughtfulness—but before you can respond, a tiny voice chimes in.
“‘toru, you look like a spy!” Haru’s small hand grips the fabric of his jeans, her face alight with excitement as she gazes up at him.
Satoru chuckles, turning his attention fully to her. As he crouches down to meet her gaze, his own expression softens.
“A spy, huh? You’re onto something princess.” He gently ruffles her hair. “Alright… here’s the deal. You can be my sidekick, but only if you keep my secret.” He puts a finger to his lips, and whispers. “No one can know who I really am. It’ll be our secret mission.”
“Secret! I won’t tell,” she whispers with utmost seriousness, and her eyes beam with the thrill of this imaginary game he’s now given her.
“Good,” he murmurs, tapping her nose lightly, “I knew I could trust ya, kiddo,” and as he shoots her a wink, she dissolves into a fit of giggles.
You watch them from a few steps away, leaning back against the banister with your arms crossed—a soft smile tugging at your lips. There’s something endearing, almost mesmerizing, about the way Satoru allows himself to be swept up in Haru’s world, and you’re incredibly impressed at how seamlessly he’s growing into this role—this new chapter of his life, and yours. As you catch glimpses of the man he’s becoming, these small, unguarded moments bring forth a version of Satoru that feels both familiar and entirely new.
Just then, Satoru glances up and catches you watching him with that uncharacteristically soft expression. His gaze narrows playfully, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he stands.
“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”
Your smile softens, and the words that leave your lips slip out before you even realize it.
“Who knew dad vibes could look this good on you?”
Ah, fuck. The second the words leave your lips; you feel a heat rushing to your cheeks—you’ve spoken without thinking, letting your admiration for him slip out in a way that feels a little too honest—more vulnerable than you intended—giving him a title—that title. You’re still getting used to this… this new, real relationship that you and Satoru share, and moments like this catch you off guard.
Satoru’s reaction is immediate; his eyes widen in surprise, and for a heartbeat, he simply blinks at you, processing what you’ve said. Flustered, you bite your lip—your gaze darting away for a moment as the heat in your face intensifies. There is no hiding the delicate pink painting your cheeks.
But then, his surprise melts into a grin—a slow, pleased smile that lights up his entire face, stretching into a smirk that’s all too self-satisfied.
“Oh?” his voice drips with amusement. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ‘dad vibes.’”
Stepping forward, he tilts his head—studying you with a newfound intensity, and it becomes very clear that he’s relishing in your flustered reaction.
Ugh. You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed in his response. Clearing your throat, you try to salvage a bit of dignity.
“I, uh… I just mean, y’know… you’re getting the hang of this,” you mumble.
You should know better—that playful glint in Satoru’s eyes tells you he’s not letting you off the hook. His eyes beam with mischief as he leans in close, and you desperately try to advert your gaze.
“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t backtrack now,” he smirks, turning your face to meet him.
The warmth in your cheeks intensifies under his gaze, and his fingers linger, brushing tenderly against your chin. Your breath catches the moment he moves in closer—lips ghosting just over yours.
“I think I could get used to is this kind of flattery…”
You suck in a breath and playfully roll your eyes. “The last thing you need is an ego boost. Don’t get too used to it…”
“Too late,” he whispers back.
Before you can say anything else, a small, impatient voice breaks the moment.
“Mama, ‘toru! Let’s gooo! Pumpkins!” she pouts.
You both blink, snapping out of the moment as you glance down at Haru, who’s now tugging on your hands with eager impatience.
She’s not about to let her pumpkin adventure be delayed by your moment.
“Alright, alright, princess, we’re going,” Satoru chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully. “Besides, I’m not the only one going incognito today.”
Turning towards a nearby table, he reaches for a small shopping bag you hadn’t noticed before, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity as he holds the bag out to you with a smirk. The moment the bag is settled in your hands, you immediately open it—revealing your own matching beanie, followed by a pair of sleek designer sunglasses.
“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”
“Ah, of course,” you muse, grinning at you pull your disguise out of the shopping bag. “Didn’t realize we were going full ‘spy mode’ for this outing.”
Satoru chuckles, but his eyes soften as he watches you slip the beanie over your head and position the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose with a flourish.
“How do I look?” you pose playfully.
“Like the perfect accomplice,” he declares with a grin. “No one will suspect a thing.”
Haru’s face lights up and she claps her hands in excitement.
“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.
The thrill in her voice pulls a laugh from both you and Satoru—she’s completely swept up in this game. Satoru mirrors after you—slipping on his own sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish as he flashes Haru a mischievous grin. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and whispers conspiratorially—as though letting her in on a top-secret plan.
“That’s right, kiddo. It’s a full family mission.”
Haru’s eyes beam with childlike wonder as she nods—putting her finger to her lips again—mimicking his serious expression. Suddenly, Satoru pulls out a set of keys from his hoodie pocket and begins dangling them in front of you with a grin. The silver glints in the sunlight as he places them in your hand.
“C’mon, you’re driving today,” he says with an easy nonchalance.
It takes a moment for you to register that it’s your keys he had set in your hand, and you blink down at them for a moment while he steps towards the door. It’s been so long since you’ve driven your own car that it feels oddly unfamiliar—like a relic from another life.
“Oh, uh… yeah, sure,” you stammer, still caught off guard as you follow him out the door, with Haru skipping beside you—a cascade of excitement as she babbles about today’s adventure.
Once you step outside, your gaze lands on your car waiting in the driveway—a dark blue sedan with a soft, understated shine—a small piece of normalcy you’d left behind in the wake of Gojo's luxury.  It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s always been reliable.
Driving out of the Gojo estate… in your car? It’s a strange, almost surreal concept after all the chauffeured cars and limos that have now oddly become routine. A rush of familiarity surges through you—remembering the simpler times, a glimpse of the life that once belonged solely to you.
While you’re lost down memory lane, Satoru strolls toward the passenger side. He pauses, glancing back to find you standing there—keys in hand, a touch of nostalgia softening you features. His signature smirk settles into place as he leans casually against the passenger door and muses.
“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ve forgotten how to drive? Or…” his eyes narrow with playful mischief as he raises an eyebrow, “are you too fancy to drive your own car now, Mrs. Gojo?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes before striding over to the rear passenger door, where Haru waits—her small fingers clutching the edge eagerly.
“Says the one who never drives,” you shoot back, grinning as you pull open the door. “Mr. ‘Passenger Princess.’”
Your comment earns you a dramatic huff as he places a hand over his chest—pretending to be affronted—though the grin curling upon his lip tells you he’s anything but offended.
“Excuuuse me, but this ‘passenger princess’ comes with premium commentary and a charming smile. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have this level of company in the front seat.”
Shaking your head, you roll your eyes again as you reach down to lift Haru into the car.
“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.
But just as you begin to settle Haru into her car seat, her demeanor shifts—before you know it, she’s twisting in your arms, pressing her hands against your shoulders, all while her little brows draw together in a determined pout.
“No, Mama!” she wriggles free—scurrying down to plant her feet on the ground. You blink the moment she crosses her arms and defiantly declares, “I want ‘toru to do it!”
The request takes you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily speechless. Uhhh… come to think of it, does Satoru even know how to strap a toddler into a car seat? You glance over at him, and he looks equally thrown off—an uncertain smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
You can practically see his internal debate unfolding—he subtly glances between you and Haru—clearly flattered but just as visibly out of his depth.
Oh, Haru. She absolutely adores him—and while Satoru isn’t exactly resisting the role she’s suddenly assigned him, you know first-hand that he’s pretty much clueless with toddler basics. Car seats and sippy cups? Yeah… not exactly his area of expertise.
With a sigh, you kneel beside Haru—a gentle smile on your lips.
“Haru, honey… Satoru doesn’t exactly—"
Satoru clears his throat.
“—uh… sure, I can do it,” he straightens, pushing himself off the side of the car with a nonchalant shrug as he gives you a small, uncertain grin. “How hard can it be?”
A giggle breaks from Haru’s lips as he swoops her up, and her little arms wrap around his neck with delight—but Satoru’s eyes narrow at the car seat like it’s some sort of complex machinery he’s about to dismantle. Oh… this is gonna be good.
He carefully lowers her into the seat, and his brows furrow with intense focus as his fingers begin to slip over the unfamiliar buckles.
“Alright… this goes here… or does it?” he mutters.
Biting back a smile, you marvel at how determined yet adorably out of his element he is—untangling the straps. But as you watch him struggle, you are suddenly struck with the realization of how different this moment feels from anything you have ever experienced in the past.
Naoya? He would never have humored Haru’s whims, let alone spent time trying to puzzle out something as simple (yet surprisingly complicated) as a car seat. No—it was easier for him to hand off the messy tasks of parenting.
But Satoru? Here he was, eyebrows knitted in stubborn determination—refusing to give up on this minor challenge, simply because Haru had asked him to. Each small stumble, each adjustment he makes, only seems to fuel his resolve to get it right.
After a few moments, a sigh of mild frustration escapes him, and he pauses, staring at the tangled straps in front of him in defeat. Finally, glancing over his shoulder, he casts you a sheepish look that’s so uncharacteristically vulnerable it melts you.
“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”
Oh, he’s too cute. He’s trying so hard, and something about it makes you want to lean in and kiss him, just for being so completely, irresistibly endearing.
Stepping forward, you smile softly, inspecting his work with a practiced eye.
“You’re doing great,” you assure him warmly, reaching out to gently adjust the chest clip. “But you’ll want to raise this a little higher—it should be level with her armpits, and maybe tighten it a bit more.”
His eyes focus closely on your hands as you gently guide him through the adjustments, and he nods—carefully stepping back in to finish the task with a newfound confidence.
“Okay, got it.”
Your slight encouragement seems to have spurred his fingers to move more purposefully now. Tightening the strap, he gives it a final tug to check the tension, and with a small huff of triumph, a wide grin spreads across his face as he leans back—admiring his handiwork.
“There,” he announces, sounding both relieved and just a little proud. “One secure kiddo.”
Haru beams up at him, her eyes sparkling with delight.
“Good job, ‘toru!” her voice is filled with an adorable pride, as though she’s the one teaching him.
“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckles, gently closing her door and casting her one last fond look through the window. Then, with an easy stride, he slips into the passenger seat beside you, settling in with an air of satisfaction.
“All right, you two,” you exhale, securing your seatbelt with a satisfying click. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”
After securing his own seatbelt, Satoru’s eyes flicker to yours with playful adoration. He leans back with a contented sigh.
“Yup. And with you behind the wheel, I get the best view in the car,” winking playfully, his trademark smirk appears as he adds, “Ready when you are, Madam Chauffeur.”
ꨄ︎
The pumpkin patch sprawls before you like a painted autumn wonderland. Rows upon rows of pumpkins in every imaginable shape and size dot the field—their bright orange hues glowing under the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun. Rustic wooden signs swing gently in the breeze, directing families to activities like hay rides, corn mazes, and a “Pumpkin Painting Station.” You’re welcomed with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the sweetness of spiced donuts and apple cider—a warm nostalgic embrace of autumn.
Nearby, children dart between the pumpkins, shrieking with laughter as they kick up leaves. Parents snap photos, their laughter joining the symphony of crunching footsteps and cheerful voices. You glance at Satoru, who’s paused just past the entrance—his gaze sweeping across the scene with a mixture of awe and slight bewilderment. There’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, like he’s trying to take in every detail of this unfamiliar world.
“Well?” you ask, nudging him gently with a smile. “What do you think?”
He shrugs, flashing a lopsided grin as he meets your gaze.
“Honestly? I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more… contained?” his eyes flick to a group of kids who’ve just toppled over in a pile of leaves—sending a cloud of autumn colors flying around them.
“Contained?” you echo, a smirk crossing your face. “Satoru, it’s a pumpkin patch, not a black-tie event. Consider it an adventure in rural living.”
He lets out a low chuckle, and his usual confidence is softened by a rare, boyish charm.
“Mmm... well I guess I’m overdue for an adventure like this,” his gaze drifts over the rows of pumpkins—families bundled in scarves and jackets as the haze of afternoon sunlight filters through the trees. His tone dips into something warm, almost tender. “Hard to believe, but I’ve never actually been to one of these before.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”
He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.
“Nah... let’s just say pumpkin patches aren’t exactly a Gojo family tradition…” he chuckles softly, but there’s a bit of sadness coloring his voice as he scratches the back of his head. “I guess most of my autumns were spent in places a bit… less pumpkin-filled.”
His unguarded honesty tugs at something deep within you. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, just how much of a different world he comes from—how even the smallest traditions, like visiting a pumpkin patch, might’ve been out of reach for him.
Without a second thought, you reach over, sliding your hand into his, your fingers curling around his in a gentle squeeze. He looks down, surprise flashing in his eyes, before his expression softens as he meets your gaze.
“There’s a first time for everything,” you murmur softly. “And… now you’ve got Haru and me to show you how it’s done. We’re practically pumpkin patch experts.”
A soft smile breaks across his face, and for a moment, he looks like he’s letting down a guard you hadn’t even realized was there.
“I couldn’t ask for better teachers,” he squeezes your hand back.
Just then, a delighted gasp breaks the stillness as Haru tugs excitedly on Satoru’s hand—her eyes are wide and shining with wonder as she points to a patch of particularly large pumpkins.
“Look, ‘toru! Big ones!” she practically bounces with energy. “Let’s go! Pleeease?”
Satoru’s expression softens even further as he glances from you to Haru, and with a small laugh, he nods—allowing himself to be pulled forward by her tiny but insistent hand.
“Alright, alright, lead the way, pumpkin expert,” he says, casting a quick, affectionate glance back at you—and your heart swells from the way his eyes twinkle with amusement, and maybe, just a hint of gratitude.
ꨄ︎
“This one?” Satoru asks, holding up a pumpkin with a proud grin.
“No!” Haru exclaims immediately, her face scrunched up in disapproval. “Too skinny.”
Satoru raises an eyebrow, giving the pumpkin an exaggerated, doubtful look.
“Too skinny, huh?” setting it down with a sigh, he brushes off his hands—back to square one. “Alright, let’s keep looking.”
He takes a few steps, scanning the rows, and his gaze falls on another pumpkin—rounder this time, but with a bit of a tilt to one side. He bends down to pick it up, then holds it out with a contemplative look.
“Hmm… how about this one? Good color, nice and round—”
“Nope!” Haru cuts him off, shaking her head with a serious frown. “It’s bumpy.”
Satoru sighs—a huff of a chuckle. He places the pumpkin back down with mock solemnity.
“Alright, alright. No bumps, no skinniness. Got it.”
Glancing back, he casts you a quick look—an amused twinkle in his eye as he mouths, she’s tough. Stifling a laugh, you sit back on a nearby hay bale, watching their search unfold with growing amusement. Haru’s standards have always been impressively high, and Satoru, is finally getting a taste of that.
As they wander a little farther down the row, Satoru’s gaze lands on another contender—a medium-sized pumpkin with a perfectly round shape and a smooth surface. Crouching down beside it, he inspects it with all the seriousness of a seasoned pumpkin picker, then holds it out, giving Haru a hopeful look.
“This one? Look, it’s perfectly round and no bumps in sight.”
Haru narrows her eyes, stepping forward and scrutinizing the pumpkin with an intensity that belies her age. A tiny, dramatic sigh escapes her as she shakes her head in disapproval.
“No, it’s not orange enough. Has to be super orange!”
“Super orange,” he echoes with a dramatic nod. “Of course. What was I thinking?” He places it back with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he searches the rows—clearly determined not to give up.
Biting back a smile, you watch him crouch beside her yet again, leaning in close to match her intense expression. Then, he picks up another pumpkin and holds it out in front of her, trying to contain his hope.
“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.
Haru barely spares a second glance.
“Nope! The stem is too small.”
With a defeated sigh, Satoru watches as she continues her search, undeterred and unbothered by his less-than-stellar picks. After a moment, he walks back over to you and plops down on the hay bale—his shoulders slumping in mock exhaustion.
“Is there such a thing as a perfect pumpkin, or am I just doomed to fail here?”
You can’t help but grin—reaching over for his hand. As your fingers intertwine with his, you rest your head gently against his shoulder.
“Oh… I think there’s one out there somewhere,” you murmur, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t give up now, Mr. Gojo. Just think of this as your first lesson in pumpkin-picking perseverance.”
A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest—low and warm.
“Perseverance, huh?” looking down at your joined hands, his thumb brushes tenderly over your fingers, before his gaze lifts to meet yours—there’s a softness in his eyes, a kind of warmth that feels as comfortable as the autumn sun. “Alright… if you believe in me, I guess I’ll keep trying. But if she shoots down one more pumpkin, I might need a pep talk.”
You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.
“I’ll be here, ready with all the encouragement you need. This is serious business, y’know.”
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there’s a spark of determination there as he watches Haru continue her search with relentless focus.
“Serious business, huh?” he mutters, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… far be it from me to let a toddler outdo me.”
Before you can respond, a delighted gasp cuts through the air.
“Mama! ‘toru! I found it!” eyes wide and sparkling, Haru points proudly at a pumpkin nestled snugly in the dirt.
The triumph in her voice makes Satoru’s eyes light up. Standing from the hay bale, his hands nestle into the pockets of his hoodie as he strides towards Haru, with you following closely behind.
“Really now? Let’s take a look at this prize pumpkin.”
Crouching down beside it, Satoru lifts the pumpkin carefully with both hands—as though it’s the crown jewel of the pumpkin patch. His brow furrows with an exaggerated seriousness as he turns it slowly, examining every curve and contour.
“Hmm… yes, I think you’re right,” he declares, voice thoughtful. “This is one smooth, super orange, pumpkin…and just look at that stem!” he taps the pumpkin’s top lightly and flashes Haru a crooked grin. “You’ve got a great eye, kiddo. I’d say you found the best one here.”
Haru’s face lights up with pride.
“Yay!! Look, Mama look!” she beams, her smile stretching from ear to ear—glowing with joy.
Crouching down beside her, you run your hand gently over the pumpkin’s surface. “Wow, sweetie—I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”
You catch Satoru’s gaze holding yours for a moment—a soft smile stretching across his lips—and then, he reaches down to lift the pumpkin effortlessly—cradling it like a treasure.
“So… do we take it home now? Looks like we’ve got our perfect pumpkin, after all.”
You rise—shaking your head with a grin as you hold up a hand to pause him.
“Not so fast apprentice. You didn’t think we’d leave without experiencing the whole pumpkin patch, did you? C’mon, we’ll bring it up front, but check out later.”
Satoru chuckles, shifting the pumpkin under one arm as he raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright. Guess I shouldn’t rush the experts,” his eyes shift to Haru and his smile softens. “So… what’s next on our agenda, sweetheart?”
ꨄ︎
As the three of you stroll hand in hand through the bustling market stalls, the air is rich with the warm aroma of spiced cider, caramel, and freshly baked treats. Each booth is piled high with autumn delights—jars of golden honey, hand-painted gourds nestled among small pumpkins, and cozy knit scarves draped invitingly over wooden displays.
But Satoru’s attention is instantly captivated by the booth ahead—his eyes brimming in boyish wonder as they land on a display of sweet treats.
“Is that cider? And caramel apples?” he exclaims. “Come on, we have to try these,” and he’s steering you both eagerly towards the booth—like a moth to a flame.
You blink—a little surprised by how openly delighted he is over something so simple. But soon, a warm smile breaks across your face, and you can’t help but chuckle softly while he tugs you along.
“You’re like a kid in a candy store right now.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes you a grin so bright, it feels like a burst of sunlight breaking through the autumn clouds. His enthusiasm is contagious, and before you know it, you’re swept up in his excitement.
He eagerly orders three caramel apples and a steaming cup of cider to share. Then, turning back, he holds the treats up with a triumphant, radiant smile—gleaming with delight. Handing the first one to Haru, you watch as she sinks her small teeth into the sticky treat without hesitation.
“Mmm! Yummy!!” Caramel smears her cheeks, but she looks up at you both, absolutely beaming.
Satoru chuckles, reaching down to ruffle her hair fondly before turning back to you. With an exaggerated flourish, he extends a caramel apple in your direction—bowing slightly as he adopts a tone of mock chivalry.
“For you, my lady,” he says with a smirk.
Unable to hold back a grin, you roll your eyes at his theatrics—taking the apple from him.
“Why, thank you, kind sir.”
As you bring the treat to your mouth, the rich sweetness clings to your lips in a sticky kiss. But you can’t resist glancing over at Satoru—and there he is, utterly lost in the simple pleasure of it. He bites into his own apple with unfiltered delight, like it’s the best thing he’s had all day.
A smile pulls at your lips as you watch him—licking a stray bit of caramel from his thumb. He’s entirely unbothered by the sticky mess, but then, as if feeling your gaze, he looks up—catching your eyes with a glint of amusement. A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face, unashamed and utterly charming.
"I didn’t peg you as someone who’d go for something this messy," you tease, taking another bite of your apple as he shrugs.
“You say messy; I say worth it,” he counters.
Your eyes linger on a small smudge of caramel at the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, you reach out—brushing your thumb gently across his lips to clean it away. But just as you begin to pull your hand back, he captures your fingers—holding them in place while his gaze meets yours. His lips curl into a smirk that promises nothing but trouble, and a shiver tingles up your spine the moment he brings your thumb to his lips.
Slowly, deliberately, he closes his lips around your thumb—enveloping the sticky sweetness in his warm mouth while sucking it off with a teasing slowness—leaving you breathless.
“You’re impossible…” you mutter.
Releasing your digit with a soft, tantalizing pop—your breath hitches, and there’s a smug delight in the way he studies you, reveling in the effect he’s stirred within you.
“What can I say?” he hums, licking his lips with a casual ease. “Sweet things are my weakness.”
Your eyes are helplessly drawn to his lips—watching as his tongue glides over his bottom lip, catching the last traces of caramel. For a heartbeat, you can’t look away; his lips look even more tempting than the caramel itself, and something about his self-assured gaze has you feeling flustered and captivated all at once.
“Your weakness, huh?” you breathe, finally managing to lift your gaze back to his, trying to sound nonchalant. “Good to know… I’ll remember that next time you act like you’re above everyone else.”
A rich, low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans in, and the air around you crackles with anticipation as his gaze drops to your still sticky lips.
“You should,” he whispers, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours—a glint of mischief and something softer. “Especially since caramel apples aren’t my only weakness.”
Before you can even catch your breath, he leans in, bridging the small distance between you until his lips hover just a whisper away. His mouth brushes against yours, feather-light at first—a tentative, lingering touch that sends a shiver through you. Instinctively, you find yourself mirroring his movements, returning the kiss with gentle insistence.
As his hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb strokes a slow, comforting line along your cheek, grounding you, though his lips leave you feeling weightless. The kiss is a delicate dance, as intoxicating as it is tender, and you can taste the faint sweetness of caramel mingling with the warmth of him.
Pulling back, his warm breath mingles with your own as he rests his forehead gently against you. His eyes, soft and half-lidded, meet yours, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at his lips.
“You know…” he murmurs, caressing your cheek, “you taste even better than the caramel.”
“Sweet talker…” you mumble, your cheeks warming under his gaze as his smirk widens.
“Mmm, but you’re the sweetest thing here,” he breathes, voice dropping as he draws close again. “But… I think I need another taste. Just to be sure.”
This time, his lips press with a deeper, more assured insistence, moving against yours in a rhythm of warmth and quiet intensity. A low hum of approval escapes him, vibrating softly against your lips, and his hand slides to the back of your neck—fingers weaving through your hair as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.
But just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a small, determined voice slices through the quiet intimacy like a record scratch.
“Hey!” Haru scolds, stern and resolute. “Bad ‘toru! Don’t squish Mama!”
Startled, you both break apart, blinking at each other as you catch your breath. You turn to see Haru standing nearby, her little arms crossed over her chest as she fixes Satoru with an adorably fierce look. Her brows are furrowed in a way that would be intimidating—if she weren’t so tiny.
Oh, Haru.
You exchange a quick, sheepish glance with Satoru, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, reaching down to ruffle her hair in an attempt to defuse her stern gaze.
“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he says, grinning. “Mama’s tougher than she looks.”
Wriggling out of his reach, she stomps her foot with a determined huff.
“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”
Satoru blinks—the corners of his mouth twitching up as he struggles to keep a straight face. Biting back a grin, he raises his hands in mock surrender.
“Right. You got it boss,” he nods solemnly. “I’ll be extra nice.”
There’s a brief pause as Haru narrows her eyes at Satoru.
“Promise ‘toru?”
“Promise.” He taps his chest for emphasis, as if making a sacred vow.
After a long, scrutinizing pause—deciding whether to take his promise seriously—Haru nods, a satisfied “hmmph” escaping her as she plops down beside you with her candy apple in hand.
“No more squishing,” she mumbles around a bite—keeping a wary eye on him.
That’s it—you can’t hold it in any longer. Laughter bubbles out of you, and Satoru glances up, catching your eye with a grin that’s equal parts amused and exasperated.
“Well…” he sighs, as if he’s been given the most impossible mission, “guess I’ve been told.”
ꨄ︎
As the three of you meander through the pumpkin patch, Haru skips along—tugging on your hands and pointing out each new discovery in delight—a scarecrow with a tilted hat, a butterfly fluttering briefly on a tall stalk of corn, a perfectly round pumpkin nestled under twisting vines.
Then, bouncing on her toes, she points toward a massive, lumbering tractor—its green paint chipped and worn, but still carrying an undeniable charm.
“Look, ‘toru! I wanna ride it!” she exclaims.
As Satoru’s eyes narrow on the rumbling machine, you can see the gears turning in his head. Him—a man of luxury and refinement, clambering onto a dusty old tractor?
But after one look at Haru’s eager face, his resolve crumbles.
And of course, moments later, he’s perched on a bale of hay—Haru bouncing with delight on his lap as the tractor lurches to life. The wheels crunch over the fallen leaves, and Haru chatters happily, pointing out every bump and turn in the ride—blissfully unaware of the incongruity of a billionaire on a hay bale.
After the bumpy ride, the petting zoo became Haru’s next paradise. Dashing from pen to pen, her tiny hands pressed against each fence—pointing at each animal with wide-eyed wonder—calling out, “Look, Mama! Look, ‘toru!”
Each discovery sends her gazing up at Satoru with curious eyes, expecting him to know everything about each creature, and he humors her with a quiet patience—kneeling down beside her to answer her endless questions with a tender fondness that tugs at your heart.
But as you’re savoring this rare, serene moment, you feel a subtle shift in the air. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a woman a few feet away, dressed in a cozy autumn sweater and a scarf, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that spills over one shoulder. She’s dressed casual in appearance—completely harmless—but what unsettles you is the intensity in her gaze—a gaze that lingers on Satoru a bit too long.
At first, you try to brush it off. Maybe she’s just admiring him—after all, he’s breathtakingly attractive, and his presence has a way of turning heads even on his most inconspicuous days. But then, her expression shifts, morphing from idle admiration to something sharper.
Recognition.
Your heart sinks as you see her eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. Holding your breath, you hope she’ll just let it go—that it’ll be a fleeting thought.
No such luck.
With a quick, subtle gesture, she nudges her friend beside her, her excitement barely contained. The friend follows her gaze, squinting slightly before her eyes, too, widen in realization. Their quiet murmurs are punctuated by eager glances your way, confirming your worst fear: they know who he is.
The comforting illusion of anonymity you’d clung to here—the precious notion that, for once, you could just be a regular family enjoying a simple day out—begins to fray at the edges, unraveling under the weight of their recognition. No matter how far you venture from the city, from his world of fame and fortune, it seems his reputation is impossible to outrun—constantly creeping back to claim him… to claim you.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly approach Satoru, who’s still kneeling by Haru as she excitedly babbles about the sheep. You crouch down beside him and gently place your hand on his shoulder—catching his attention. Turning to you, his expression softens at the sight of you—until he notices the concern in your eyes.
“They recognize you,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly toward the two women.
Following your glance, a shadow of something unreadable passes over his face as he takes in their intrigued, lingering stares, and for a moment, you feel the hopelessness creeping in—the reality that moments like these are fleeting—vulnerable to the slightest shift in attention.
But then, something shifts in Satoru’s expression—his gaze sharpening with determination as he catches sight of the disappointment settling in your eyes. Glancing around, he begins assessing the layout of the pumpkin patch—searching for an escape route.
Then, his gaze lands on it—a tall, winding corn maze, its entrance just a few yards away, partially hidden behind a cluster of hay bales.
Perfect.
Without a beat of hesitation, he leans in close to Haru—who’s blissfully caught up in a bunny nibbling on some hay.
“Agent Haru,” he intones with mock seriousness, “do you remember our mission?”
Haru’s head snaps up, her face lighting up instantly as she turns to him.
“Yeah!” she squeals, grinning with a spark of adventure.
“Good,” he nods, casting a quick, discreet glance toward the approaching women. “We need to escape without being spotted by those two ladies over there,” he gestures subtly, grinning. “Think you can handle it?”
Haru’s face scrunches up in concentration, and her tiny hands clench into fists as she straightens up. Her expression breaks into one of fierce determination—one that’s both adorable and earnest.
“Yes, ‘toru!” she whispers back, nodding.
With a reassuring smile, Satoru’s on his feet—taking your hand in one of his and Haru’s in the other.
“Hold on tight,” he quips, a smirk playing on his lips as the three of you dash toward the maze.
The moment you break into a run, Haru’s delighted giggles mix with the crunch of leaves underfoot, and soon you plunge into the tall, twisting rows of corn.
You steal a glance back towards the petting zoo, half-expecting to see the curious women following, but the corn closes in behind you like a cocoon, swallowing them from sight.
Satoru’s hand is warm around yours, grounding yet electrifying, and his laughter mingles with Haru’s squeals. With a sideways glance, his eyes meet yours and his grin is wide and exhilarating. Giving you a quick wink, he turns forward again, tugging you along as you dive deeper—daring you to keep up.
“Agent Haru, status report! Any enemies in sight?" he calls out in a mock-commanding tone.
Haru, bubbling with laughter, scans the rows of corn with exaggerated intensity—clutching his hand with fierce determination as her little legs pump as fast as they can.
"All clear ‘toru!" she yells back, brimming with excitement.
In that instant, the lingering worry, the quiet ache of reality, all of it dissolves into the thrill of escape—the magic of this moment. There’s no fame, no recognition, no judgement here; only the unrestrained joy of play, of racing through a maze as though the world is nothing but this stretch of golden corn and laughter.
You weave together through twists and turns—a blur of giggles and hurried footsteps until finally, you reach a small, secluded clearing tucked deep within the towering stalks.
Gasping for breath, you lean back against one of the tall stalks, and after a moment, you let yourself slide down to the ground—pulling your knees to your chest as you catch your breath, the crisp autumn air cooling your flushed cheeks.
Beside you, Satoru braces his hands on his knees, exhaling deeply before he follows your lead and sinks down onto the ground next to you. Though ahead, Haru seems immune to exhaustion. She’s already a few steps away, her eyes wide with wonder as she spots a butterfly lazily drifting through a patch of sunlight. Completely captivated, she crouches down, watching its gentle path—momentarily lost in her own little world.
Satoru’s eyes meet yours with a shared, silent thrill. Nudging your shoulder with his, a smirk tugs at his lips.
“Didn’t know a pumpkin patch would turn into a covert operation,” he exhales.
You laugh, breathlessly.
“Not exactly what I had in mind for a relaxing day out,” you give his knee an affectionate shove with yours. “But… I guess life with you is never boring.”
He chuckles, throwing his head back and gazing up at the autumn sky—a few streaks of orange and pink peeking through the corn tops.
“Well…” his eyes flicker to yours, sparkling with that familiar, teasing gleam. “You did sign up for the full Gojo experience. Adventures, paparazzi, occasional cornfield chases… it’s all part of the package sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.
“Uh-huh, sure, sure. I just thought it would involve more champagne and less running,” you quip, nudging him playfully.
“Oh, you want champagne?” he grins, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “You sure you can handle it? Remember that first charity gala? You were practically clinging to me by the end of the night.”
Your cheeks flush at the memory, and you laugh, slightly flustered.
“Okay, but did you expect me to be completely unfazed? My first gala, fancy dresses, and…"
The words die on your lips—the memory of that night creeping in; the low lights, the glint of champagne glasses, and then… that kiss. Your first kiss—with Satoru.
A kiss that was completely under the guise of putting on a show for Naoya… though let’s be real, it was anything but pretend.
Satoru’s eyes light up with interest as he catches your hesitation, his smirk widening like a cat about to pounce.
“Go on. Fancy dresses and… what, exactly?” he prompts, a playful drawl.
As he tilts his head with that infuriatingly charming glint in his eye, you know, that he knows, exactly what you were thinking. Ugh. He can be infuriating.  
Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.
“Nothing! Just… the whole night was… overwhelming,” you mumble, trailing off as you divert your gaze.
A low, amused hum escapes him—rumbling through his chest as his knowing look revels in your embarrassment.
“Overwhelming, huh?” he echoes, grin widening. “Interesting choice of words… considering you were the one who practically jumped me in front of your ex.”
With an exasperated groan, you roll your eyes in protest.
“Well, what can I say?” you sigh, feigning indifference as you rest your head on your knees. “Drastic times called for drastic measures.”
“Mmm-hmm, sure, keep telling yourself that,” he chuckles—dropping his head to rest against his own knees. You hold your breath as his blue eyes catch yours with a quiet, teasing intensity. “But… I’m pretty sure you just couldn’t resist me…” his crooked grin grows, “after all, that kiss was all you.”
You scoff, your cheeks heating as you stretch your legs—trying to hide your amusement. “I think you’re misremembering things. If anything, you were the one clinging to me.”
His laughter spills out, rich and unrestrained. With a content sigh, he follows your movements, stretching out beside you.
“Sure, sure. Believe what you want, sweetheart.”
The comfortable silence settles over you, and you find yourself glancing back to where Haru is still entranced by a butterfly drifting through the sunlight, her face lit with pure wonder.
She’s so… happy. And that fills you with a deep, quiet gratitude. Moments like these are what you’ve always wanted for her. It’s what she deserves, and it warms your heart to know you’re able to give her a day like this.
A sigh escapes your lips, and your voice softens into a gentle murmur as you nod in her direction.
“For a minute there… I really thought we’d have to cut the day short.”
Satoru’s gaze flickers over to Haru, a fond smile softening his expression before he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches for your hand—fingers intertwining with yours, steady and grounding.
“Nah,” he murmurs, quietly but firmly. “Not a chance. Nothing’s cutting this short. Todays about you and Haru.”
A warmth blooms in your chest, melting away any lingering traces of tension as his words sink in, wrapping around your heart like a gentle embrace. You smile, squeezing his hand in return.
“Just us, huh?” you whisper.
“Just us,” he echoes, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.
Then, with a soft sigh and a playful glint in his eye, he unclasps your hand to raises both hands to his mouth, calling out to Haru.
“Hey, Agent Haru!” he shouts, “Ready to finish our mission?”
Haru’s head snaps up, her eyes bright with excitement. She breaks into a grin and dashes over, grabbing each of your hands with her small, eager fingers.
“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”
ꨄ︎
As the golden light of early evening filters through the trees, the day is winding down, and the three of you start making your way back toward the entrance—weaving through the brightly colored stalls—each one bathed in the honeyed light of sunset.
But then, just as you reach the last stretch of the path, a delighted squeal breaks Haru’s focus the moment her gaze lands on a large, freshly raked pile of leaves just off to the side—a mound of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows stacked high like a miniature mountain waiting to be conquered. Without a second thought, she breaks free from Satoru’s hand—dashing toward the pile with uncontainable excitement.
Zeroing in on the pile, she abruptly halts—her tiny form silhouetted against the colorful heap. You watch curiously as she glances back over her shoulder—her eyes alight with mischief and her cheeks flushed pink from the chill in the air.
Beaming with the thrill of discovery, she flings herself into the pile—a burst of leaves scattering around her in a vibrant whirlwind as she bursts into a fit of giggles.
“‘toru, look, look!” she calls out, peeking up from within the pile. “Come play, ‘toru! Come play!”
Satoru stops, watching her with a raised brow and an amused grin. He chuckles softly, though you can hear the reluctance coloring his tone. Diving headfirst into a pile of leaves? Clearly, that’s a foreign concept for Satoru Gojo—it’s more of that childlike wonder he missed out on.
Noticing his hesitance, you step up beside him—giving him a teasing nudge with your shoulder.
“C’mon ‘toru, afraid of a few leaves? Don’t tell me the ‘perfect’ Mr. Gojo is worried about getting a little dirt on him?”
He scoffs, rolling his eyes—though a smile is already tugging at his lips.
“Afraid? Me?” his hands burrow into his hoodie pocket as he casts you a sideways glance. “Hardly. I’m just… y’know… assessing the situation.”
Biting back a grin, you begin to take a few slow, deliberate steps backwards—inching toward the pile where Haru is waiting as your eyes hold his with a silent dare.
“Assessing, huh?” you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Mmm… I dunno, sounds like stalling to me. Come on, live a little, Mr. Gojo.”
He smirks, but before he can respond, you twirl around and dive into the pile beside Haru—scattering a burst of leaves around you. Your laughter blends with Haru’s giggle as you sink into the softness, and immediately, she reaches for a handful of leaves—tossing them up in the air so they flutter down like confetti.
Satoru tilts his head, grinning but not budging as the kaleidoscope of autumn colors rain down upon you both. But Haru? She’s not about to let him sit this one out.
Peeking over her shoulder, her eyes immediately set back on Satoru, and her expression morphs into one of adorable determination.
“’toooooru,” she whines, wide eyes practically glowing with hope. “Pleeease. Come play!”
Oh, Haru. He’s powerless against her persistence—and perhaps, against the joy that radiates from the two of you in that pile of leaves. With a theatrical sigh and a reluctant grin, he finally pulls his hands from his pockets.
“Alright, alright,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and makes his way towards the leaf pile.
Standing at the edge of the pile, he kneels down to brush his hand over the crisp leaves—and then, with a sudden burst of resolve and dramatic flair, he lets himself fall back into the pile—flopping down as the leaves scatter around him. Haru wastes no time throwing herself on top of him.
An exaggerated grunt slips through Satoru’s lips, and Haru bursts into laughter as her small hands begin to bury him under a layer of vibrant foliage.
“Oh no!” he lets out a mock gasp as she buries him deeper. “I’m being buried alive! Save me!”
Haru’s laughter bubbles up, uncontrollable and infectious, as she adds even more leaves. “Stay still!” she scolds through her giggles, patting the leaves around his arms. “Don’t move, ‘toru!
“So, I’m supposed to just lie here and accept my fate, huh?” he huffs in defeat and glances up at her with wide eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t some secret plan to take me out?”
“Shhh!” she grins, putting a finger to his lips. “Magic leaves.”
“Oh, magic leaves? Well, why didn’t you say so?” his eyes glint with amusement as he lies still, trying to keep a straight face, though the laughter in his voice betrays him.
Haru continues to stack leaves atop him with a determined precision, until for a moment, she pauses—her eyes narrowing with that familiar glimmer of mischief yet again, as if she’s calculating her next move. Then suddenly, with a burst of energy, she tackles him with all her might—giggling as she sends the carefully arranged pile of leaves flying in every direction.
“Oh, it’s on!” Satoru laughs, his own grin widening as he grabs a handful of leaves to fling back at her. “You think you can get me like that, huh?”
In an instant, they’re caught in a whirlwind of laughter and autumn leaves. Seated nearby, you observe their playful battle unfold—Haru shrieking with joy as she ducks and scrambles to gather more ammunition. The warmth in your chest blossoms, and you feel almost entranced by the sight before you.
As Satoru’s deep, unrestrained laughter blends with Haru’s giggles, you realize in this moment just how rare it is to see him like this—completely carefree and unguarded. Gone is the man who must always play his part. Gone is the man who so often conceals his true self beneath layers of poise and duty. Here, with Haru, he is simply Satoru—someone who can laugh until he’s breathless and lose himself in a child’s game without a care.
You wonder how many other moments like this he’s missed—the boyish enthusiasm makes it seem almost as if he, too, is experiencing this kind of carefree fun for the first time. And that alone makes this moment feel so precious—something you wish you could capture and keep forever—suspended in time.
He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.
“Okay, okay! I surrender!” he finally laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat before collapsing back into the pile—his chest rising and falling with exhilarated breaths as Haru cheers in victory.
“Gotcha, ‘toru!” she declares proudly—triumphantly piling more leaves on him. “You’re a leaf monster!”
Satoru chuckles, brushing a stray leaf off his nose as he props himself up slightly. “A leaf monster?” his eyes gleam playfully. “Well… you better be careful then—I might come back with vengeance.”
She squeals with laughter and her eyes sparkle with excitement as she scrambles to her feet. “Ahhh! Go away ‘toru!” she shrieks—darting away to dive into another pile of leaves nearby.
Watching her go, Satoru’s expression softens—a peaceful sigh slipping past his lips as he takes a moment to catch his breath. “She’s got endless energy, doesn’t she?” he murmurs, tilting his head up to meet your gaze.
Your heart flutters at the warmth in his eyes, and you lean back on your hands, letting your own smile mirror his as you watch Haru’s figure disappear into another pile of leaves. “She does,” you breathe softly. “But… I think you’re doing a pretty good job keeping up.”
A quiet hum of contentment escapes him, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. Almost instinctively, he shifts closer, letting his head nestle in your lap as he leans back into the leaves.
“Maybe…” he trails off into a lazy, satisfied sigh. “But I think I’ll take a break right here… if that’s okay.”
As the dappled sunlight filters through the golden autumn leaves above, it casts soft shadows across his face—illuminating the gentle warmth in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, and without a word, you reach out—threading your fingers through his hair, each strand slipping through your fingertips, softer than you expected. He hums, sinking into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as a slow, contented smile spreads across his lips.
Around you, the world seems to quiet, holding its breath. Haru’s distant giggles mingle with the soft rustling of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of peace.
“You know…” you murmur, “I think this is my favorite side of you.”
His eyes flutter open, a flicker of surprise giving way to something unguarded and vulnerable. Slowly, a tender smile forms on his lips as he reaches up, brushing his hand gently against yours.
“Yeah?” he drawls, “Didn’t know I had a ‘favorite side.’”
“You do…” your fingers trace gentle circles through his hair, savoring the feel of each delicate touch. “It’s the side where you don’t have to be anything but… here, with us.”
For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still, as if each word you’ve spoken has wrapped itself around his heart. His gaze deepens, and your breath catches—it’s like he’s seeing you in a way that reaches beyond words. Gently, his hand comes up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear—his fingertips grazing your cheek with a touch so tender it makes your heart ache.
“Guess I didn’t know I could just… be that,” he whispers.
You lift your hand, covering his and pressing it to your cheek. “Well, you can. With us, you always can.”
His gaze holds yours, something vulnerable yet content in his eyes, but then, as if unable to help himself, the warmth shifts into a familiar glint—a spark of playfulness creeping back into his expression. “Alright, alright…” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, “let’s not get too sentimental. I gotta keep up my ‘mysterious’ reputation, remember?”
A laugh spills from you, light and unrestrained, as you roll your eyes in amusement. “Oh, you’re plenty mysterious. Half the time, I still can’t tell if you’re serious or just messing with me.”
He lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back further into your lap as if he’s completely relaxed—the picture of contentment.
“You should know by now…” he murmurs, feigning seriousness as he closes his eyes, “…it’s usually both.”
The corners of his mouth twitch, barely hiding the smirk he’s trying to restrain, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning at his theatrics.
“Well… for the record,” your voice naturally softens, “I think a little tenderness suits you.”
One eye flicks open at your words, his brow quirking as he regards you with amused curiosity. Closing his eye again, his smirk deepens as he nestles further into your lap.
“Oh, does it?” he murmurs lazily, but there’s no mistaking the glint of interest coloring his tone.
“Yup,” you reply, leaning back on your hands and glancing up at the sky with feigned indifference. “I dunno… it’s kinda cute, actually.”
The words slip out like a quiet confession, and you notice the shift in him immediately—a subtle but unmistakable change.
Unable to keep up his act any longer, a bright, satisfied grin breaks across his face as he sits up—lifting his head from your lap—and his fingers slip through yours, intertwining and pulling you near him.
“Cute?” his voice drops as he brings his face achingly close to yours. “Careful now… saying things like that? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”
You feel your heart pounding—the thrill of his closeness electrifying as his breath fans your skin, but you hold his gaze boldly with a smirk.
“Well, maybe I like a little trouble,” you whisper back.
A playful growl rumbles in his chest, his smirk deepening as he tightens his grip on your intertwined hands.
“Oh… now you’re really asking for it. You’re officially in trouble.”
In one swift motion, he wraps his arms around you—sending you both tumbling back into the soft bed of leaves. The world around you blurs into a whirl of amber and gold as laughter escapes your lips, filling the crisp autumn air. But as you settle, your laughter fades, leaving only a quiet, shared breath between you and a gentle smile lingering on both your faces.
Hovering above you, his gaze softens as the leaves cradle you beneath their rustling blanket. It’s as though he’s committing every detail to memory as his eyes trace each curve and contour of your face, and you take in a quiet breath as his hand finds its way up your cheek—brushing over your skin and making you melt under his touch.
“Gotcha,” he whispers, brushing his nose gently against yours.
A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your pulse quickening as his proximity becomes all-consuming. Still, you muster a playful eye-roll, though the warmth in your gaze betrays your affection.
“Is this your idea of ‘assessing the situation,’?”
“Absolutely,” he murmurs, eyes softening. “God, you’re beautiful…”
The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless, and a warmth blooms in your cheeks that reaches all the way to your heart. Before you can respond, he closes the distance—his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft, so achingly tender, it leaves you dizzy.
As he deepens the kiss, a soft sigh escapes you, your fingers finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Each brush of his lips is slow, deliberate—and everything else fades into nothingness, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the press of his lips, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats entwined.
But just as you’re about to melt entirely into him, a tiny voice breaks through the haze of warmth and closeness.
“Hey!” Haru’s voice calls out, stern and unwavering. “Bad ‘toru!”
Pulling back, Satoru groans softly, chuckling under his breath. His gaze flicks to Haru, who stands with her hands on her hips, looking every bit the tiny but fierce protector. He drops his head in defeat, shooting you a look of amused resignation.
“Well, looks like we’ve been caught,” he whispers, brushing a stray leaf from your hair with a soft, lingering touch.
You stifle a laugh, trying to keep your composure as you glance back at Haru.
“We should probably get back to her before she starts scolding you again,” you sigh, rising to your feet with his help.
“Yeah, I don’t think I can handle another ‘squishing’ intervention,” he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both walk back to Haru, who’s watching the two of you with narrowed, all-seeing eyes.
With the sun dipping lower in the sky, it paints the fields in shades of amber and gold. The three of you make your way back toward the entrance of the pumpkin patch—Haru skipping along, her small hands clasped in both of yours as she chatters excitedly about everything she saw—even as the day winds down.
But as you approach the entrance, ready to leave this little haven of laughter and leaves behind, a quiet warmth settles in your chest—a feeling that this moment, this fleeting, joyful day with the people you cherish most, is a memory you’ll carry with you. This is your little family, and it’s worth all the chases, all the whispers, all the adventures.
For now, that’s all that matters.
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thanks for reading this special little fall chapter! satoru is such a cutie pie with haru 🥹 i really wanted to have this out before october ended, but alas, my perfectionism kept holding me back 😅 anyways, ch 7 is indeed in the works—that'll be my next post, and it will be out by the end of this month. i appreciate you all being so patient, hope you had a lovely halloween 🎃 -aly 💛
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taglist:
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@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana
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nhlclover · 2 months ago
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𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒
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— cozytober masterlist !
summary: your first halloween spent in your new house together becomes unforgettable after a trick-or-treater brings unexpected joy for you and jack
warnings: literally so much fluff it's crazy, jack kind of having a revelation
word count: 1.36k
notes: tenth and final fic of cozytober! hope you enjoy i thought this was such a cute idea.
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As October settled in, the air grew crisp, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves. Your neighborhood began to glow with an eerie charm — orange and purple lights strung along rooftops, spider webs draped haphazardly over bushes, and grinning jack-o'-lanterns perched on porches, their flickering candles casting shadows on the pavement. It was your first Halloween in your new home, and excitement buzzed in the air. You and Jack had spent the last few weeks transforming your house into a Halloween wonderland, determined to embrace the spooky season in full.
“This is going to be such a good Halloween,” you said, standing in the kitchen surrounded by packages of candy. You poured another mountain of treats into the bowl, feeling like a kid yourself.
Jack, lounging against the counter, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You know we’re probably gonna be that house, right? The one that gives out so much candy the kids talk about it all year?”
You grinned back, unbothered. “Good! We never got to do this in the apartment. We’re going all out.” You tossed another bag of chocolates into the mix, the bowl overflowing now.
Your previous apartment building didn’t have many kids, and handing out candy was never part of your Halloween traditions. But this year, nestled in a family-filled suburb, it felt like you were finally getting the Halloween you’d always wanted — the decorations, the costumes, the eager trick-or-treaters. You could hardly wait.
When the doorbell rang for the first time, you practically leapt off the couch. “They’re here!” you squealed, racing to the door like a child on Christmas morning. Swinging it open, you were greeted by a group of tiny witches, superheroes, and a very tiny dinosaur with a tail too long for his legs. Their eyes widened at the sight of your candy bowl, and you couldn’t resist giving them extra, their excitement contagious.
You watched them scamper off down the walkway, their candy bags bouncing, before collapsing onto the couch next to Jack, who had Ghostbusters queued up on the TV. “There was this little dinosaur, and his tail kept dragging behind him,” you laughed, snuggling under his arm. “It was adorable.”
“Is that what happens every time the door opens? You’re going to give me a recap of all the costumes you see?” Jack smirked, pulling you in closer.
“Absolutely,” you grinned, poking him playfully. “I don’t want you missing out on all the cuteness.”
And that’s exactly what you did. Each time the doorbell rang, you bounded up, eager to meet the next batch of trick-or-treaters. After every encounter, you’d return to Jack, excitedly recounting the different costumes — witches, zombies, fairies, and one memorable kid dressed as a very squishy marshmallow. Jack would laugh at your eagerness, but you could tell he enjoyed each one of your recaps.
Between the rounds of doorbell dashes, you and Jack sank into the movie, the Halloween vibe settling in like a comfortable blanket around you. The evening was perfect — the glow of the porch lights, the hum of neighborhood excitement, and Jack’s arm wrapped around you, making it all feel just right.
As the night began to slow and fewer knocks came, the doorbell rang one last time. You jumped up, still full of energy. “I’ve got it!” you called, already halfway to the door.
Opening it, you were greeted by a sight that made you freeze — a kid fully decked out in hockey gear, pads, helmet, gloves, and all. But what caught your attention was the jersey. The black, white, and red jersey stood out in the dark, the 86 on the sleeve glimmering under the porch light.
“Trick or treat!” the small voice squeaked from beneath the helmet.
Your jaw dropped as you let out a small gasp. “Oh my gosh, you look amazing!” you gushed. “Hold on—there’s someone who has to see this.”
You darted back into the living room, grabbing Jack by the arm. “Come on, you’ve gotta see this!”
Jack, confused but curious, paused the movie and followed you to the door. The second he saw the mini-hockey player in his own jersey, his eyes widened in surprise. The kid looked up, eyes shining as he recognized Jack.
“You’re Jack Hughes!” the little boy said, his voice filled with awe.
Jack crouched down to the kid’s level, smiling. “Looking good out there, bud,” he said, adjusting the boy’s helmet so it wasn’t covering his eyes.
The kid's dad, standing at the end of the walkway, waved his phone. “Would it be alright if we got a picture?” he asked, clearly as excited as his son.
“Of course,” Jack grinned. He knelt beside the kid, who raised his hockey stick proudly. You quickly snapped a few photos, capturing the pure joy on both their faces.
Before they headed off, you grabbed two fistfuls of candy and dropped them into the boy’s sack. “You get some extra candy for having the best costume we’ve seen all night,” you told him, smiling as he skated on his roller blades down the walkway.
Jack stood there for a moment, still processing what had just happened. You could see a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched the boy skate off.
“That was seriously cool,” Jack admitted, sliding his arm around your waist.
You nudged him playfully. “You’re a little stunned, huh?”
Jack chuckled, his eyes still lingering on the street where the kid had disappeared. “Yeah, I mean, it's one thing to see people wearing my jersey at games, but that little guy was really into it. He looked like he was having the best night of his life.”
There was a warmth in his voice, a mix of pride and disbelief. “It’s gotta feel pretty surreal seeing a kid look up to you like that,” you said, guiding him back into the house, his eyes still going back to the kid who was far down the street now.
Jack nodded, his smile widening as you took your places on the couch once more. “It just… it reminds me that this whole hockey thing is bigger than just me, you know? Seeing him so pumped, dressed as me for Halloween… it kind of makes it all feel worth it in a different way. A way that’s not just for me.”
You could tell that moment meant more to him than he let on. His eyes glinted with that same spark he had when he was passionate about something, and you loved seeing him like that.
As you both settled back onto the couch, you leaned your head on Jack’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in. “You made that kid’s night,” you said softly, glancing up at him.
Jack’s arm tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I think he made mine too,” he replied, his voice filled with a contentment that made your heart swell.
As the credits rolled on the movie, you sighed happily. “Best Halloween ever,” you murmured, smiling to yourself.
Jack chuckled, resting his chin on your head. “You always say that,” he teased.
You laughed, looking up at him. “Well, this time I mean it.”
He grinned down at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Good. Because I kind of want to make this our new tradition. Decorating, handing out candy, watching you light up with every costume… I could get used to this.”
You leaned up and kissed him softly, feeling that familiar, comforting warmth between you. “Me too,” you whispered. “Me too.”
As you both sat there, the last remnants of Halloween fading into the quiet night, you couldn’t help but think about how special this first Halloween in your new home had been. It wasn’t just the decorations or the candy or even the costumes — it was the moments, big and small, that made it unforgettable. Moments like Jack seeing a kid in his jersey, or the way you both had embraced the evening together, fully present and happy.
And you knew that no matter how many Halloweens came after this one, this would always be the one that set the bar.
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hanfourz · 29 days ago
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― scream | h.ts 𓆩⚝𓆪
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first installment of the 'tis the season drabble series !
pairing・ghostface!taesan x fem!reader
genre・smut, mostly pwp (fluff towards the end), established relationship
warnings・MDNI, mask kink, unprotected sex (Do Not.), dom!taesan, profanity, fingering, big dick!taesan
word count・2.3k (!!!!!)
note・uh we don't talk abt how long this took me or the fact that this is a halloween drabble in december... it's fine (the end's kinda trash sry lmao) - 🪼
[ networks : @onedoornet ]
series m.list | main m.list
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halloween was your favorite time of the year. all the spooky decor, scary movies, and candy made your eyes glow with excitement. and this year you’d get to spend it with your boyfriend. last year, you two were supposed to celebrate together but you came down with something so he’d come up with a brilliant plan of staying in and watching scary movies to your heart’s content. and as fun as that was, this year you were determined to make halloween count. 
“dongminie, hurry or we’re gonna be late!” you heard a deep sigh before he muttered out ‘okayokay’. you two had a party to get to in exactly 2 hours. a party you may or may not have convinced forced your lovely boyfriend to go to. truthfully he wasn’t all that upset about going to this party, one of his friends was hosting it so he knew he was going to have to go anyway. it was the damned costume you’d practically begged him to wear. you two were supposed to be characters from one of your favorite thrillers, a movie that taesan personally didn’t care for. you’d made him watch every single scream movie last year and told him you wanted him to be ghostface this year. he didn’t really think you were serious until he saw the mask sitting on the bed and your overly excited smile as you pulled him into your room to show it to him. he’d be lying if he said your excitement wasn’t kinda adorable and that’s what ultimately won him over. (that and the fact that he was completely head over heels for you) 
“babe!! come here, i need help!” you whipped around at the sound of taesan’s voice coming from your bedroom. when you got up and made your way over, you opened the door to the sight of him standing at the foot of your bed. he’d had the mask on most of the way but was seemingly struggling to get it to fit comfortably. you giggled under your breath and when he’d heard you, his head perked up in your direction. you stepped towards him and helped him adjust the mask over his head, stepping back once you’d both got it fully on. now with the mask settled over his head, you got to see his full costume. he opted out of the long dress in favor of black jeans and a black t-shirt, fake knife in hand. in truth, he just looked like himself with a mask on. so you’re not sure why you were getting so hot all of the sudden. you stood there and staring in stunned silence. when he tilted his head at your silence, you swore you felt your gut tense up. unbeknownst to you, taesan could absolutely tell you were turned on right now, you really weren’t that hard to read. and suddenly things clicked in his brain, the way you were so eager to get him in this costume, the glazed over look in your eyes when you were talking about seeing him in it. 
“what’s wrong, baby? how does it look?” he asked, feigning innocence but slowly stepping closer to you. your eyes widened ever so slightly, if he wasn’t intensely staring at you through the mask he wouldn’t have even noticed. but he did and it caused the tiniest of smirks to cross his face. 
“looks good, ‘minie… we should- uh we should probably get going.” you tried to answer normally but his presence, the way he loomed over you, was intoxicating. your eyes couldn’t stay focused on where to look, darting around his frame. and when he pressed closer to you, you felt your knees grow weak a little. you don’t know what was coming over you but taesan was enjoying every second of it. his large hands found your waist and yours came to press on his chest. “we’re gonna be late-” you were cut off by him sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you down into his lap in the process. your mouth hung open in shock but taesan wasn’t even paying attention to you. instead he had turned his upper half to snatch up his phone and was seemingly texting someone. 
your brows furrowed as you stared in confusion. “what’re you doing?” you asked tilting your head to see he was texting jaehyun. 
“telling him we’re not coming.” was all he said before he turned again to place his phone on the dresser.
his hands were on you in seconds. your mouth opened to protest but you were cut off again by his hands trailing up your shirt. you let out a shaky exhale, watching as he stared intently at the skin he was exposing the more his hands went up. once your shirt was pushed up to expose your chest, you reached to yank it off. taesan chuckled at your eagerness, hands groping over your bra causing you to keen into his touch. if the mask wasn’t getting you so worked up, you would’ve taken it off so you could kiss him and he would’ve taken it off so he could wrap his lips around your tits. but this would have to do for now. 
“dongmin, please.” you whined, not even fully sure what you were pleading for. he hums, not giving you what you want and continues to trail his hands over your torso. 
he stops at the waistband of the skirt you’re wearing, teasing at the skin there before sliding them back up to your chest. his pace is agonizingly slow as he unclasps your bra, your breath catching in your throat as the cold air causes your nipples to perk up. taesan groans lowly at the sight, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers. you whimper, grinding yourself over his thigh that’s nestled between your legs. taesan watches you for a while mesmerized by the desperation in your movements. but then he’s quickly moving you, laying you down on the mattress whilst pushing your legs apart. he slots a leg in between your thighs, hovering above you as you whine impatiently. he doesn’t say a word as he shimmies your skirt off your hips, leaving you in just your lacy panties. the constant switching from feverish impatience to slow deliberation is making your head spin as he takes the time to admire your figure below him. his hands caress your thighs, pulling one up at the knee and pressing two fingers to the wet spot forming on your panties. 
you sigh at the feeling, hands reaching towards the band of your panties before he pushes them away. you let out an indignant whine but keep your hands away for the time being, allowing him to do as he so pleases. he starts to circle your clit with his fingers, occasionally pressing harder onto the bud. he watches as you arch into his ministrations and he feels it as you grow even more wet. he pulls your panties to the side, continuing to play with your clit. he watches as you clench around nothing, breathing ragged underneath his mask. 
“dongminie, please. want more.” you moan out, hands reaching for the one pressed to your cunt. he only pushes your hands away again, a frustrated whine leaving your lips. but then he actually takes your panties off, sliding them down your legs and throwing them to wherever your skirt went. and though you’re completely bare while he’s completely clothed, you don’t feel shy. no, if anything it turns you on even more. 
without warning, he plunges two fingers into your wetness causing a gasp to fall from your lips. he watches as they disappear into your hole before he brings them out and pushes them in again, setting a fast pace. your legs threaten to close but he presses a hand to your other thigh, forcing them open as he fucks you with his fingers. something about the dominance radiating from him in this moment makes you feel so much closer to the edge than normal. you’re whimpering and moaning loudly as his thumb starts to rub over your clit. he doesn’t say a word but you can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten and it drives you crazy. 
“‘min, i’m close. oh my god, please.” your back arches off the bed as you feel your orgasm fast approaching. he decides to press another finger into you, you moaning loudly at the feeling. he drinks in the sight of you falling apart for him, pussy clenching around his fingers and moans tumbling from your lips. when you come, your entire body tenses and you’re left scrambling for something to hold on to. he slows his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm before pulling them out. 
as he turns his hand, he watches his fingers glisten with your essence and can’t resist pushing the mask up to lick them clean. the sight has your jaw dropping and pussy clenching once again. you trail your eyes down his form to see his very visible bulge. before you can even think of doing anything, he places both hands on opposite sides of your head, looming over you again. you take the opportunity to trail your hands over his clothed chest, feeling his breath shudder before he’s pulling away to be kneeling over you. he very quickly undoes the buckle on his pants, pulling them down enough so that he can push his boxers down. his hard length stands tall against his stomach, precum leaking from the tip. you watch as he pumps his length a few times, your breathing labored as your hand starts to trail down to your aching pussy. but taesan catches the movement, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. you whine and try to squirm free but to no avail. he holds you there until you stop trying to fight against him, tilting his head at you when you huff in annoyance. and even though he hasn’t said anything, you know that means you’d better keep your hands there if you wanted to cum again tonight. 
he pulls away when he’s sure you’re done and reaches for your legs, pulling you towards him whilst simultaneously spreading you open. he rubs his cock over your pussy, tip bumping your clit and causing little whines to leave you. once he feels he’s teased you enough he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly. no matter how many times you two have had sex, his cock always stretched you out so deliciously. you could feel it as he pushed every inch into your fluttering walls. you heard him sigh breathily when he finally bottomed out. just like he did with his fingers, he pulled out slowly before fully plunging back inside you, watching the way your pussy swallowed him. he felt so deep as he fucked into you, his hands snaking their way up to your chest. his fingers toyed with your tits while his hips snapped into yours. your hands were fisted tight in the sheets, moans of his name and incoherent blabbering falling from your lips. you chanted his name like a mantra as you felt his cock hit that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. 
he repositioned so his hands were placed on opposite sides of your head again, you bringing your legs to wrap around his hips. at this angle, you could feel him even deeper and you cried out his name. your hands found purchase on his shoulders as he rocked into you. now that he was closer, you could hear the soft pants and groans he was letting out behind the mask. you could feel that familiar tightening in your stomach, thighs clenching around him. you were letting out pleas and ‘yes’s’ and ‘feels so good, don’t stop’ and taesan knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. you could tell too, his thrusts getting sloppy and his head dipping into your neck. 
“gonna cum, dongminie, fuck ‘so good.” you moaned directly into his ear and that was his undoing. he groaned as your pussy clenched around him, both your orgasms washing over you. 
he thrusted into you a few more times before practically collapsing on top of you. you let out a laugh of disbelief, pulling his head up and immediately removing his mask. his hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips swollen from biting down on them, and a blissed out look in his eyes. you had a dopey smile on your face as you pushed his hair back from his forehead. he sighed before sitting up, pulling his softening cock out of you and readjusting his clothes. you whined at the loss of contact and he chuckled. 
“be back, babe, hold on.” he murmured as he got up, grabbing a damp towel and a water bottle. he came back, wiping you clean (chuckling once again when you whined at the feeling) before opening the water bottle and giving it to you. once you were done with it, you gave it back to him and gave him a pointed look. he sighed and drank some water before settling it back on your nightstand. when he came back to lay with you, you immediately pulled him down into a heated kiss. 
“can’t believe you deprived me of your lips this entire time.” you pouted as you pressed your lips to his again, him smiling into the kiss. he hummed as he pulled you over so that you were on top of him, bare chest pressed against him. he kept you there as your lips moved in tandem, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip. it felt like hours before you two pulled away from one another. 
“you’re amazing, baby.” he said softly, his hand running through your hair. you just smiled at him, leaning to kiss his nose before you got up to get clothes to put on. 
“didn’t know you had a thing for masks though.” and even though your back was turned as you bent over, you could hear the teasing smirk in his voice. 
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