#man i wish I was that bonsai tree

[superprofesh]

I’d like to thank Colt Seavers for inventing attractiveness

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

chapter summary: The onsen's heat melt away your coldness, while the festival's treats sweetened your heart. But it was Satoru, with his fiery passion and childlike joy, who truly made you feel alive again.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 16,4k

warnings: MDNI, smut with plot, so much tension, establishing relationship (?) public intimacy (onsen), summer festival motives (traditional clothing, games and foood), lovemaking, dry humbing, p in v, oral/fingering (f reciving), unprotected sex, creampie, intense at the end, dirty talk, teasing, namecalling (sweetie, wifey etc.), dacryphilia, tooth rotting fluff, soft, spicy and touch starved Satoru.

author's note: oh dear, that loooong, but we are finally here. I couldn't finished this chapter in a month, it was eating me alive. I'm a virgin when it comes to writting smut scenes, so please be gentle. Hope you enjoy it in the end, your pulse will quicken and your heart will sugar coat ;3

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 '𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭'

"Mr and Mrs Gojo, we are pleased to welcome you to our establishment, we wish you a pleasant stay." the woman at the front desk beamed, her smile broad and a little too wide as she handed over your wristbands. Her eyes darted nervously to Satoru, who stood next to you, his presence undeniably commanding the room. Naturally, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.

You felt a familiar weight as his hand settled on your waist, possessive yet gentle.

"Thank you." Satoru replied, his voice filled with that infectious enthusiasm "My wife and I are looking forward to a time full of relaxation!" his tone was warm, but it carried that undercurrent of determination, the kind that always made you wonder just how seriously he took even the most mundane things.

You couldn’t help but notice the effect he had on the staff around you. There was a collective intake of breath, and you watched as the women at the reception seemed to hold it, eyes wide and dreamy. It was, frankly, a bit embarrassing. You’d seen this reaction countless times, but it didn’t make it any less disconcerting when it happened right in front of you.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like when he actually started using the spa. The baths, the onsen… you winced internally at the thought. You already regretted booking the full package. Satoru was a magnet for attention- talkative, charming, and with looks that could make anyone pause. What had seemed like an idyllic, relaxing retreat was starting to feel like an exercise in patience.

It had all sounded so good when you read about it: relaxing massages, body treatments, the tranquil atmosphere. And part of you was still excited; you'd been waiting for this for what felt like forever. But now, seeing the ladies at the front desk practically swooning at the sight of him was… well, let's just say it was a little annoying.

The location itself was well decorated. You walked away from the reception area for a moment, as Satoru started talking to another staff person. It was quite a distance away from the village where you had an accommodation, but it was close enough to the surprise you wanted to take him to in the evening. You could see that everything was well-maintained and quite fresh, as if a renovation had taken place here not long ago. Ceremonial ornaments adorned the walls, trimmed bonsai trees stood as miniature sentinels in each corner, and the view from the wide windows was breathtaking, the landscape rolling out in serene waves of green and stone. You could feel a sense of calm settling over you despite your earlier irritation.

There weren't many visitors at this time of day. You guessed that was partly because you'd arrived in the afternoon, and partly because most guests were likely preparing for the evening's festivities. Your gaze wandered to a lacquered painting on the wall, depicting a serene scene of a man and woman submerged in water, their backs turned to each other. The art was surprisingly well-preserved, capturing the beauty and tranquility of the surrounding area.

"Ready?" you felt a hand embrace you from behind. You nodded your head.

"Do you know where to go and what to do?" your gaze fell on his eyes, he threw a towel over his shoulder.

You'll probably never get used to the shifting shades of blue that swirl in his sparkling eyes.

"I asked the staff about a few things." he said in a melodic voice. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder.

"Good, I'll meet you after the treatments and when you've finished bathing, if you'd be early, then don't leave without me, I'll wait for you here." he gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up, his signature grin spreading across his face.

"Have fun." he added before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the entrance to the men's changing room, a dark blue curtain swaying gently as he slipped behind it.

You watched him go, a mixture of exasperation and affection welling up inside you. With a small sigh, you turned on your heel and made your way to the women’s section, pushing aside a curtain as red as the blush still warming your cheeks.

----

Oh yes.

That's what you needed.

You don't remember when you felt so relaxed. You felt your whole body eased and your head pleasantly calmed. Your aching hip and shoulder blade, which had suffered an injury after your last mission, finally experienced proper treatment. A complex of massages prepared your body, while scrubs and regenerating masks gave your complexion a healthy glow. You liked to take care of yourself. As you rose from your seat, finishing your last massage with some special stones, you heard a quiet whisper from behind the curtain.

"Have you seen the white-haired guy?" this question set your ears ringing.

"Yes, handsome and charming." the giggle of the other voice was terribly loud.

"But apparently he's married."

Your feet found the ground, yet you remained still, your ears attuned to their every word, each syllable a slow drip of poison.

"Ah, what a shame, wasting on such an uncute woman." Pity, right? you furrowed your brow at this comment, sudden breath catching.

The words struck like a blade, your breath stuttering in your chest, a flare of heat rushing to your face.

"But are you sure? He didn't have a ring." Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms, the silk of the robe whispering against your skin as you fought the urge to rip through the curtain.

"Yes, at the desk, he said the woman next to him was his wife." the tone had shifted, dripping now with mockery, each word a taunt that twisted the knife deeper.

"But you know what they say, no ring no problem."

You opened the paper door to your cubicle, not wanting to wait for the next treatment or hear what these old maids had to say.

Out in the corridor, the air was cooler, less stifling, yet it did nothing to quell the fire simmering just beneath your skin. The air thick with the lingering scent of oils and herbs. Each word you had overheard replayed in your mind, an echo that rattled in the silence around you. The pity, the mockery, the casual cruelty of their voices scraped against your thoughts like nails on glass.

Uncute woman. The phrase curled around your mind like a serpent, squeezing until it left marks that stung with each breath.

You didn't want to spoil your mood, even though it had somehow gotten under your skin anyway. You just hope that the hot water will wash it out of you.

The wooden floor creaked under your step. The colours of the glass slowly changed, revealing the sunset outside. After pulling back the white curtain at the end of the corridor, you were shown one of the most stunning views.

The hot spring lay before you, a hidden oasis cradled by the forest. It was framed by rugged stones and ancient trees, their branches bowing gently as if in reverence to the sacred waters. A traditional torii gate loomed at the edge, draped with sacred Shinto ropes and tassels that whispered secrets to the evening breeze. In the background, rocks and trees wove into the scene, and just beyond, a small wooden temple stood, its silhouette blurred by the rising mist. Lanterns glowed in the encroaching twilight, casting a warm, flickering light upon the surface of the water, illuminating the steam that curled into the air like ghostly tendrils. It was a scene of tranquility, an invitation to forget, to cleanse.

The overall scene set you in relaxation and some sort of spiritual cleansing.

You let your towel slip from your grasp, draping it on the cabinet before stepping into the milky water. It lapped against your ankles first, sending tendrils of heat spiraling up your legs. Slowly, you eased further in, each step a deliberate act of immersion, the water climbing higher, coaxing the tension from your muscles with each passing second.

Finally, you lowered yourself until the water barely kissed the tops of your breasts. You spotted a small wooden bucket resting on one of the stones nearby and reached for it, the wood warm against your fingers. You poured the water over your hair, again and again, the heat cascading down your shoulders, soothing the raw edges of your thoughts. It was a ritual, a cleansing, and as the water soaked into your skin, you felt the weight of the day begin to dissolve, leaving behind a languid heaviness that settled deep into your bones. Now, you felt it, how heavy and warm were your muscles.

But then, you felt it—a presence. It pressed against the edges of your awareness, a shift in the air that made you alarmed. You turned, the water rippling around you, and your eyes met his.

"What are you doing here?" your voice was pretty quiet. It didn't need to be louder since you were surrounded by silence or a quiet hum.

Satoru stood there, half-shrouded in shadows at the entrance to the water, his form outlined by the soft glow of the lanterns. A towel hung low around his hips, and a flush painted his cheeks, stark against the usually pale skin. His gaze was fixed on you, wide and unblinking, as if he had stumbled upon something he wasn’t meant to see. He blinked once, then twice, before his eyes finally rose to meet yours.

You glanced down and covered yourself from him with your hands, doing this surprisingly slowly.

"It's konyoku." he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as his eyes flickered downward again, tracing the path of water droplets as they trailed down your skin.

"What?" now you were beginning to blush from the weight of his gaze on you. You felt warmth spread across your cheeks, an echo of the blush that colored his face.

His eyes moved with agonizing slowness, drinking in the sight of every glistening drop on your skin. A different kind of heat simmered in the water now, not from the spring, but from the way he looked at you. You were hot, but not just from the water - you could feel the fire in the way his eyes devoured you.

"Konyoku, a mixed bath." you were sure his voice cracked slightly.

Realisation has struck you, hard.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought that since the spa was divided into sections, it would be the same with the onsen." shame twisted in your chest, tightening around your ribs, and you averted your eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment mingle with the warmth of the spring. You felt that you were making everything awkward right now by missing such an important detail.

"Calm down, I don't mind." his voice was low, soothing, as if trying to ease the tension that thrummed in the air between you. A smile flickered across his lips, a familiar, comforting expression that quickly faded when he noticed how much you were trying to cover yourself.

He took a step forward, his hand reaching out toward the towel hanging loosely around his waist. You turned your back to him instantly, instinctively, giving him the privacy you assumed he wanted. The movement sent ripples across the water, the sound echoing softly in the silence.

You felt the water move more and more as he approached you step by step.

"Are you ashamed of your spouse?" his voice came from right behind you, dripping with that familiar arrogance that always seemed to unsettle you in ways you couldn't quite explain. You felt the heat of his breath against your ear, and a shiver raced down your spine despite the warmth enveloping you "I thought you didn't mind seeing me after so long." his tone was teasing, but it was the way he said it, the dark edge to his voice, that made your cheeks flush not in pink, but crimson.

"Your view doesn't bother me." you replied, although your voice was not laced with confidence.

"Then why are you looking away?" his voice dropped, a whisper that sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath hitching involuntarily. You could feel the shivers dancing over your skin, and you clenched your hands tighter, trying not to let him see how much his proximity affected you.

"I'm not used to seeing you like this."

"Like what? After all, I sleep in just my underwear many times." his breath ghosted over your neck, the moisture on your skin amplifying every sensation. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on remaining calm.

"But you're naked now."

"And so are you." his hands found your hips, his touch gentle but firm, fingers pressing into your skin as if he wanted to feel every inch of you. He pulled you closer, and you felt it- him -pressing against your lower back. A gasp escaped your lips, your mind spinning.

What is he doing? He had never been this bold before.

You felt his lips graze the back of your neck, a featherlight touch that ignited sparks along every nerve. His mouth moved with an agonizing slowness, gliding over your most sensitive spots, while you struggled to keep your hands steady, to stop them from reaching out and pulling him even closer.

"I've changed you into your pyjamas many times.." he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your ear "When you came back from missions, battered or when you fell asleep on the sofa." his hands parted in two different directions, easing you. One hand finding its place on your thigh, stroking around the inside of it, the other gently cupped your breast, gliding small circles with his thumb over the hardened nipple. Warm hands made you feel pliant under their touch "I know your body." his nose nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm and heavy, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

"Doesn't change the fact that it turns me the hell on." his words were a low growl in your ear, just before his teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shockwave through you. You couldn't hold back the moan that slipped from your lips, and you couldn't stop pressing your body back against his, feeling his hardness against you, eliciting a sharp hiss from him.

He tightened his grip around you, his hips pressing closer, moving in a rhythm that made your head spin. The friction between your legs pulsed with every subtle movement, and your skin felt like it was on fire, molten under his touch. His hand slid from your thigh to your chin, tilting your head back. When you looked up, his eyes were on you, half-lidded, burning with hunger. It was like staring into a blue inferno, his gaze devouring you whole. His hair was damp, sticking to his temples, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily. The sight of him, so undone, sent another wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You bit your lip glancing up at him.

The world around you faded, the fact that you were in a public space evaporating from your mind. There was only him, the way he looked at you, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he leaned in. The pounding in your ears matched the rhythm of the pulse between your thighs, and you felt the last thread of restraint slipping away.

He leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, so close you could feel his breath mingling with yours, warm and sweet. You parted your lips, waiting, wanting -

A sudden, violent splash shattered the moment, the water surging against your bodies. You both turned your heads, alarm breaking through the fog of desire. The water was roiling with movement, a hand breaking the surface, followed by a head gasping for air. Instinct took over as you pulled away from Satoru, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

Without thinking, you rushed toward the figure struggling in the water, hands slicing through the hot spring as you fought your way through the resistance.

"I'm coming! Please hold!" you grabbed a hand sticking out of the water and pulled hard, fishing out a very old gentleman who was coughing and gasping for air.

"Are you alright, Sir?" you asked looking at his face seeking confirmation. "Please be more careful, there is no barrier here and it is easy to slip." your tone was gentle yet firm, a blend of concern and reprimand.

"I'm totally alright. I apologise for myself." he croaked out, his voice thin and rasping as he tried to catch his breath. He offered a weak smile, his eyes clouded with age yet warm "I came here because it's my late wife's birthday today." he murmured, a toothless grin spreading across his face "I wanted to remember…" he caught his breath unevenly "…to remember…. of her favourite place…" his voice wavered, breaking on the last word. You guided him to one of the stones by the shore, seating him carefully as you submerged yourself in the water again, trying to offer him and yourself some dignity.

"This place has always looked like this… and my dear Suki…. loved to sit here…" he continued, his voice now more of a murmur, eyes distant. He began to recount his memories, fragments of a life filled with love and loss, perhaps as a way of thanking you for saving his. You listened, your attempts to excuse yourself gently rebuffed or entirely ignored. Every time you tried to retreat back to Satoru, the old man would draw you back in, his stories weaving a net of nostalgia that held you in place.

You glanced over at Satoru, a silent plea in your eyes. He was sitting on a stone, arms crossed, a scowl etched into his face. His eyes were dark, drilling into the old man as if sheer willpower could make him disappear. He didn't even try to mask his annoyance. You gave him a helpless smile, one that said - 'please, do something.'

He didn’t move. You could see the irritation rolling off him in waves.

Gojo was not happy that he was getting the biggest cockblock, from a guy who can't even walk. On the other hand, he was full of admiration for your nature and how ingrained you are in helping others. That's one of the qualities he really admires about you. Even if it means running to help someone, naked.

Finally, after what felt like ages, you managed to extricate yourself from the old man's grasp. With a quick apology, you slipped away, ignoring his attempts to pull you back into conversation. You swam over to Satoru, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off the elderly man. His scowl deepened, his jaw clenched as you approached. He looked like an angry kitten.

"Did he at least thank you?" Satoru's voice was low, edged with irritation that he didn’t bother to hide.

You sighed "No, but he did apologise for himself." you sat down next to him, on the rock below, water now reaching your neck. You leaned back, resting your head against the rough surface of the rock. A wry smile tugged at your lips. "I guess that counts as a thank you."

Satoru glanced away, his eyes shifting to one of the lanterns flickering in the deepening dusk. He was avoiding your gaze, staring off into the distance with a tight expression. The silence between you was thick, the weight of unspoken words pressing down like a heavy fog. It got quite dark and the light from the lantern became more visible. You opened your mouth to say something.

"About earlier- " you began, but were interrupted by.

"Nah, it's nothing. I just got carried away…" tone casual, too casual. He turned his head even more you to not face you. "Don't think about it too much, okey?" his tone sounded normal, but he still didn't look at you.

You felt a sharp pang in your chest, an ache that spread like a crack through a fragile surface. You could literally hear it. Not enough to shatter, but enough to leave a clear mark.

He just got a little carried away, huh?

So much for that. Just a moment of oblivion. Nothing more.

"I just shouldn't have... sorry." he dropped his arms to his sides, his body language mirroring the sudden distance between you

"That's okay." you forced a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Nothing happened, right?" the phrase stung on your tongue, echoing words from the past, reopening wounds that had never fully healed. Your 5th anniversary. You chuckled bitterly, the sound hollow in the dim light.

Long moment pases.

He shifted uncomfortably beside you, his eyes darting around for an escape from the unbearable tension.

"How did you like the spa?" oh, this conversation is going to be awkward. You can see that he wanted to change the subject quickly and drop something that you both could loosely chat about.

"Oh… em…" you gathered your scattered thoughts, grasping for something to say "The treatments were nice, especially the peelings. The massages also helped a lot on my muscles and bones. And this place…" Your eyes flicked to his jawline, the water droplets clinging to his skin. "It’s relaxing."

"How about you?" you smiled, trying to keep the conversation going to avoid the awkwardness and painful thoughts that were simmering in your head.

Bitter, sore are your thoughts.

He sighed, his gaze fixed on the rippling water before him.

just got carried away just got carried away just got carried away

The words looped in your mind, each repetition a fresh sting.

"I liked everything." he admitted quietly and smiled a little "Mushiburo was kinda cool. So were the facial treatments and that deep tissue massage." he rested his cheek against his palm and his hand against the stone beside "I'm surprised you got everything so right for my preferences." you raised an eyebrow, managing a small, humorless smile.

"What is so surprising about this? I've known you for years, besides, you often steal my sheet masks." you giggled akwardly. Sometimes you'd purposely buy ones with nice scents, or with cute patterns on the material.

He chuckled, a faint smile breaking through his sullen demeanor.

"It's not my fault that they produce such good cosmetics. And with you, my pores keep opening up." you nudged his side playfully, and for a moment, the mood lightened, his usual toothy grin returning. Conversation immediately became lighter.

"And I still have to use earplugs to sleep." you teased, the mock irritation in your voice genuine enough to draw a laugh from him.

"You said you got rid of them years ago! Did you lie to me?" he gasped in mock horror, dramaticly raised his voice a little.

You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips "No, you just stopped talking in your sleep."

For a moment, laughter filled the space where tension had been. Yet, even as you shared that fleeting levity, you couldn't shake the shadow lingering in the back of your mind, the weight of the moment that had almost been, and the hollow ache of what it had meant to you compared to what it seemed to mean to him.

----

The two of you walked side by side down the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and cedar. Your fingers brushed against each other briefly before you pulled your hand away, shoving it awkwardly into the pocket of your robe. Satoru didn’t seem to notice - or maybe he did, but he made no move to close the space between you.

The reception area came into view, its soft glow inviting but distant. You could see the receptionist standing behind the counter, busying herself with some paperwork, her eyes flicking up occasionally to check the room. As you and Satoru approached, the sounds of hushed voices and the distant hum of soft music greeted you, a stark contrast to the stillness of the onsen.

"Thank you for your visit." the receptionist greeted with a warm smile as you reached the desk. Her eyes shifted between you and Satoru, lingering for a moment on the tension that seemed to hang between you like a veil "I hope we provided an execptional service, you enjoyed your time here."

Satoru nodded, his face a mask of politeness. "Yes, it was... relaxing." his tone was measured, the usual playful lilt absent. Her smile never faltering, as both od you were giving her towels and accesiories.

"I’m glad to hear that. Would you like to schedule another appointment in the future?" her gaze shifted to you, expectant.

You hesitated, glancing at Satoru out of the corner of your eye. He was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable. "I think we'll have to see about that." you replied, offering a polite but noncommittal smile "It was a lovely experience, though."

Satoru cleared his throat "Yeah, we'll see. Thanks for everything." He gave the receptionist a curt nod, already turning toward the exit.

"You're very welcome." the receptionist said, her smile remaining as she escorted Satoru to the exit with her shining eyes. She glanced back down at her paperwork, as soon as he leaves.

You followed him toward the door, feeling the weight of everything that had happened - and everything that hadn’t - settle onto your shoulders. The cool air hit you as you stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the warm, cocooning atmosphere of the spa. A very late evening greeted you with its light. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging clothes, tighter as you walked silently toward the small, barly lighten path.

Satoru walked ahead, his hands shoved into the pockets. His eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw something there, a flicker of emotion, maybe regret or confusion. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that casual mask he wore so well.

"So..." he started, his voice almost too casual "that was… an interesting expierience."

You let out a short laugh, the sound brittle and devoid of humor. "Interesting. Yeah, that’s one word for it."

You walked down a stone staircase down a small mountain, the forest that surrounded you seemed to grow brighter with every step you took.

He shifted his weight, looking down at the ground. "Look." he said after a pause "I don’t want things to be weird between us."

Your heart twisted.

Too late for that, you thought, but bit back the words.

Instead, you took a deep breath and forced a smile. "It doesn't have to be weird." you replied, though even you could hear the strain in your voice. "We’re adults. We can just... move on, right?"

You didn't want to spoil the mood for the rest of the trip.

You still had something grand in store for him, a surprise that should have been the highlight of his day. He deserved to enjoy it, to lose himself in the moment, and not be tethered by the cloud of your mood. You knew how to rein it in, knew your limits. This wasn’t the first time you'd found yourself in the midst of such a tangled situation, and you told yourself things would fall back into their familiar rhythm soon enough. They always did. Or at least, they were supposed to.

The real conversation, the one that weighed heavy on your mind, could wait. It had to wait. This was your one escape, your only holiday together, a time meant for joy and laughter, not for words that could splinter the fragile peace you'd managed to grasp. So you pushed it down, buried it deep, determined to leave it untouched until later. Not now. Not when you both should be basking in the moments that you had left.

He nodded, though his expression didn’t change "Right. Move on." he repeated the words, but they sounded hollow, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

A silence settled between you, awkward and heavy. You shifted on your feet, glancing around the stones, searching for anything to fill the void that had opened up.

"So, what now?" he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

You glanced away "Well, we still have time." you admitted "Maybe we should just… go along the plan. We can already approach one place and get ready."

He ran a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah. Rest sounds good."

You were just a step away from the car when Satoru came to a halt. You paused beside him, the air thick with everything unsaid.

"You know." he began, his voice low, his gaze fixed somewhere in the darkness ahead "It’s okay to... talk about things, if you need to."

A tightness gripped your throat, choking off the words that clamored to escape. They lodged there, a heavy, unspoken weight. "I know." you whispered, barely managing the words. "But... maybe not now. Not tonight."

He inclined his head slightly, a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Not tonight." he echoed, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread.

He turned his eyes to you then, seeking, searching for something in your expression - some reassurance, some bridge across the chasm that had opened between you. But you didn’t have it to give. Not now.

So you forced a smile, a faint, fragile curve of your lips. It wasn’t much, a mere shadow of what you used to share, but it was all you could muster in that moment. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough for now.

----

Satoru stood in the dimly lit guest room, the scent of incense and freshly laundered fabric lingering in the air. The room was small but welcoming, its walls adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of the village's traditions. He glanced around, eyes catching on the various spools of thread and bolts of fabric neatly arranged in the corner - evidence of the woman’s craft. She was a tailor, and judging by the way the room seemed to hum with her skill, not just any tailor but one with years of experience and a touch for detail.

The elderly woman, now in her twilight years, had greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She had disappeared into another room and returned with the yukata draped over her arm, a beautiful navy blue garment adorned with delicate white clouds that cascaded into a soft gradient near the hem. The fabric shimmered faintly in the candlelight, each thread carefully woven to form an elegant, almost ethereal piece.

Satoru stared at it, his breath catching for a moment. There was something mesmerizing about the simplicity and grace of the design. The woman approached him, gesturing for him to take off his robe. He hesitated briefly, then complied, handing her his worn spa robe. She handed him the robes with a gentle nod.

As he held the garment, it felt impossibly light in his hands, the fabric soft and cool against his skin. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, feeling the smoothness glide over his skin. The elderly woman moved closer, her hands deftly adjusting the fabric over his shoulders. He let her work, dressing him layer by layer, standing still as she fastened the material around his waist, her movements practiced and precise.

Satoru glanced down at himself as she tied the obi, a dark navy sash that matched the garment perfectly. It cinched his waist securely, but not uncomfortably so, creating a sleek silhouette that felt almost regal. The yukata fell to his ankles, the hem brushing lightly against his skin with each breath. He turned slightly, catching his reflection in a small, polished bronze mirror hanging on the wall. The sight took him by surprise.

It fit perfectly. The yukata hugged his frame in all the right places, the sleeves hanging just so, the length tailored to his height with almost eerie precision. It was as if it had been made specifically for him, down to the smallest detail. He turned again, the fabric flowing with him like a second skin. It looked more beautiful than his clan robes.

He glanced at the woman, who watched him with a satisfied smile. "It suits you,." she said in a voice roughened by age but filled with pride. Her eyes gleamed with a knowledge that made him pause.

He wondered then, how much of this had been orchestrated by you. How quickly you must have moved to arrange this, to involve the village tailor, to ensure everything was perfect down to the last stitch. The realization sent a chill down his spine, not of fear, but of awe. How meticulous, how precise you were. It was both astounding and, in some quiet way, frightening.

But Satoru liked a scery women.

He chuckled to himself.

Gojo shifted his gaze back to the mirror, his lips curving into a faint smile. He could picture you now, working behind the scenes, your mind a whirl of details and plans. You had always been that way -considerate to the point of obsession, ensuring that everything was seamless, that every experience was as perfect as it could be. It was something he admired about you, even if it unsettled him at times.

He let out a soft breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took in the garment once more. This was so like you. To think of everything, even the smallest details, to make him feel… special. Seen.

The elderly woman stepped back, her work finished. She bowed her head slightly, a gesture of both respect and completion. "You wear it well, your wife sure has taste." she murmured, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Thank you." Satoru said, his voice softened, almost reverent. His fingers brushed over the fabric, feeling the texture under his fingertips. It was more than just a piece of clothing - it was a piece of you, a glimpse into the lengths you would go to for him.

He turned toward the door, ready to step out and show you. As he moved, the yukata flowed around him, its fit and design a testament to the care that had been put into it. And as he opened the door, a thought lingered in his mind, warm and unsettling: How well you knew him, how easily you could shape the world around him without him even realizing it until he was standing there, wrapped in it. He smiled again, this time a little wider, though the unease remained at the edges.

For now, though, he let it slip away. Tonight was meant for you and him, and the thought of seeing your face when you saw him like this… that was worth setting aside every other concern.

Satoru stood outside the small house, the evening air cool against his skin. He let out a slow breath, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the village lights began to flicker on, painting the landscape in hues of dark purple and pink. In the distance, the colored lanterns swayed gently, strung up between trees and around the central square, casting a soft, inviting glow. It was mesmerizing, the way they shimmered in the dusk, a quiet prelude to something that felt almost magical. He wondered if this was it, if this was the surprise you had meticulously crafted for him. The thought made his chest tighten with a mix of anticipation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name.

He glanced down at himself, smoothing his hand over the navy blue fabric of his yukata, tracing the gradient of clouds that faded into the darkness near his feet. It felt different on him, not just because of the craftsmanship, but because of what it represented- a piece of you, woven into every thread. He took another deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering in his stomach. How long had it been since he felt this way? Nervous, excited, all at once.

The door behind him creaked softly, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned, eyes widening as they fell on you. For a moment, the world seemed to still.

You stood framed in the doorway, a vision of grace and elegance. The yukata you wore was a delicate pink, adorned with painted mountains and flowers that spread across the fabric like a whispered dream. Higher up, sakura petals floated as if caught in an invisible breeze, dancing toward your shoulders, adding an air of ethereal beauty to your silhouette. In your hand, you clutched a small handbag, its design mirroring the motif of your attire. Your hair had been styled with care, adorned with floral decorations that sparkled faintly with small beads, catching the light with every movement.

Satoru felt his breath hitch. For a heartbeat, he forgot where he was, lost in the sight of you. It was as if the world had been painted around you, a living canvas that paled in comparison to the figure stepping toward him. The quiet confidence in your steps, the way the fabric of your yukata moved with you, it took everything in him not to reach out, to pull you close and keep you there, a part of this moment forever.

You approached him, the soft rustle of your garments the only sound in the stillness of the evening. As you drew nearer, he could see the faint smile on your lips, the way your eyes gleamed under the lanterns' glow. You stopped just in front of him, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words.

He swallowed, searching for something to say, anything that could capture what he felt.

"You look..." his voice trailed off, the words faltering on his tongue. Perfect. Stunning. Ethereal. None of it seemed adequate. He chuckled, a nervous sound that surprised even him "You look beautiful." he finally managed, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

Your smile widened, a soft blush coloring your cheeks, and for a moment, he could see it, everything you had put into this, the care, the thought, the effort to create something that would make him feel... special.

It made his chest ache.

"Thank you." you replied, your voice soft, almost shy, a contrast to the confidence in your appearance "I see they found something that fits you perfectly." your eyes roamed over his yukata, taking in the way it hugged his frame "I was a bit worried about the measurements."

He glanced down at himself, then back at you, a grin tugging at his lips.

"I have to admit, it feels like it was made just for me. You really went all out, didn’t you?" there was a teasing lilt to his voice, but behind it, there was something else, an awe, a gratitude that he wasn’t sure how to express.

"Maybe I did. You deserve it, sometimes." you shrugged lightly, a playful glimmer in your eyes.

You reached out then, your fingers brushing against his sleeve, adjusting a small crease in the fabric. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth spreading through him, settling somewhere deep in his chest.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, the air between you charged with a quiet intensity. Satoru let his gaze drift back to the horizon, where the lights continued to dance in the distance.

"Is that where we’re headed?" he asked, nodding toward the colorful glow.

You followed his gaze, a secretive smile playing on your lips.

"Yes." you said, turning back to him. "But it's more than just the lights. It’s... everything. I wanted tonight to be special."

He felt his heart skip a beat at your words, the sincerity behind them. You had always had a way of turning the simplest moments into something extraordinary. It was one of the things that drew him to you, that kept him tethered to this feeling, even when everything else felt uncertain.

"Lead the way." he said, offering his arm to you. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it, your hand slipping into the crook of his elbow. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it was enough to send a thrill through him, a silent promise of what the night held.

As you walked together toward the lights, the village around you seemed to come alive, lanterns flickering to life one by one, guiding your path. Satoru couldn’t help but glance at you from the corner of his eye, the soft smile that graced your lips as you looked ahead. He wondered how he had managed to deserve this, to deserve you. And as the cool evening breeze brushed against his skin, he found himself hoping, wishing, that this moment could stretch on just a little longer.

And it didn't even started.

In the back of his mind, that familiar unease stirred, a whisper of fear at how much you could move him, how deeply you had woven yourself into his world. But for now, he let it be.

Tonight was yours, a carefully crafted world of color and warmth, and he wanted to lose himself in it, if only for a while.

----

As you walked together down the lantern-lit path, the air grew sweeter, carrying with it hints of caramel, fruit, and sugar. The colors ahead became more vivid, the soft glow of lanterns giving way to brighter lights that adorned the festival grounds. When you reached the entrance, Satoru came to a sudden halt. His eyes went wide as he read the banner hanging above the gate, the words written in an elegant script illuminated by string lights.

Regional Candy Festival

Satoru blinked, processing what he was seeing. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the scene before him, the entrance gate decorated with multicolored paper lanterns and ribbons that fluttered gently in the evening breeze. His eyes flicked to you, a mixture of surprise and wonder playing across his face.

"You... brought me to a sweets festival?" he asked, almost in disbelief. He had a soft spot for sweets, you knew it, you spoiled him with them.

You stepped in front of him, a grin tugging at your lips. "Yep. It happens once a year, and it's a big deal for the locals. They prepare for months, bringing together candy makers from all over the region. It's more than just sweets, it's a celebration of tradition and community."

He murmured something under his breath, his eyes flicking back to the festival grounds, where the lights twinkled invitingly. You watched as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. There was a boyish excitement in his eyes that he tried to suppress, but it was impossible to miss. His gaze darted back to you, still in a state of half-disbelief.

"Come on." you said, not giving him a chance to linger in his thoughts. You grabbed his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. He tensed for a fraction of a second before letting you pull him forward, his longer strides quickly matching your pace as you led him through the gate and into the heart of the festival.

The grounds opened up before you, a sprawling array of stalls lined up along winding paths, each one bursting with color and life. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glass jars being opened and closed. Rows of booths were adorned with streamers, paper flowers, and hanging lights that bathed everything in a warm, inviting glow.

The festival grounds were bustling with life, a vibrant tapestry of people woven together by the allure of sweets and the warmth of community. Everywhere you looked, there were clusters of families with children darting around, their laughter ringing out like music against the hum of the crowd. Parents called out to their little ones, balancing bags of candy and festival toys as they tried to keep up. Children with sticky hands clutched cotton candy or candied apples, their faces smeared with sugar and joy.

The stalls themselves were a feast for the eyes. Wooden tables were piled high with every kind of confection imaginable. Glass jars held rainbow-colored rock candy, shaped like precious gemstones that glittered under the lantern light. Trays were filled with handcrafted mochi, their surfaces dusted with delicate powders of matcha, strawberry, and kinako. You pointed to a booth displaying intricately molded sugar sculptures, delicate flowers and animals crafted with such precision they looked almost too beautiful to eat.

Couples strolled hand in hand, their expressions softened by the lantern light and the shared experience of this magical evening. They lingered at stalls, heads bent close together as they sampled sweets and whispered in each other’s ears. Some took turns trying their luck at the game booths, while others simply wandered, soaking in the sights and sounds. You watched as one couple fed each other small bites of mochi, laughing when powdered sugar dusted their noses. Another pair stood near the goldfish scooping game, the woman holding her breath as her partner carefully scooped up a tiny fish, cheering when he finally succeeded.

The festival was a haven for both locals and visitors alike. Groups of tourists mingled among the crowd, their eyes wide with delight as they explored the rich tapestry of traditions laid out before them. They snapped pictures of the stalls, the lanterns, and the intricately crafted confections. Some had even donned yukatas provided by the villagers, their vibrant fabrics blending seamlessly into the colorful scene. You could hear the mix of languages and accents, adding an extra layer to the festival’s melody. For many of them, this was a rare glimpse into the heart of the village, an invitation to share in something deeply cherished.

It was a beautiful chaos, a symphony of life and light, where every face held a story, every voice contributed to the joyous chorus. You and Satoru were just two among the many, woven into the fabric of this moment. But as he turned to you, his eyes reflecting the colorful lights around you, it felt as though the entire festival was just a backdrop to the world you two had created together tonight.

"Look!" you said, dragging him over to a stall where a candy maker was busy spinning fresh cotton candy into intricate shapes -dragons, flowers, butterflies -all infused with subtle flavors like lavender and yuzu. Satoru's eyes widened as he watched the man's hands move skillfully, weaving sugar into art. He bought it immidietly.

He was practically vibrating with excitement, his crystal blue eyes darting from stall to stall, each new sight triggering a fresh wave of childlike joy. It was like he had stepped into a wonderland of flavors and colors, and he was determined to try everything. His usual aloofness was nowhere to be found - instead, there was a wide smile on his face, pure and unfiltered, as he grabbed anything that caught his attention.

"Look at this!" he exclaimed.

The next stall you passed was filled with traditional Japanese sweets, wagashi in all shapes and sizes. Sweet bean paste and chestnut filling were encased in delicate, pastel-colored mochi. Some were shaped like tiny cherry blossoms, while others resembled seasonal fruits. Satoru couldn’t help himself - he reached out and picked up a small sakura-shaped wagashi, examining it with a kind of reverence before you nudged him to take a bite.

The moment he did, his eyes fluttered shut, a soft hum of pleasure escaping his lips as he melted into the taste. "It's so… delicate." he murmured, almost in awe, his usual animated demeanor replaced by a quiet appreciation.

You could hardly keep up with him as he moved through the festival, drawn to every colorful treat and sizzling skewer. He grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, you were being pulled along, laughter bubbling up in your chest as you tried to keep up with his boundless enthusiasm.

Further down, you found a stall selling caramelized fruit, the skewers of glossy red apples and candied strawberries glistening under the lantern light. Without hesitation, you picked up a stick of candied strawberries and held it out to him, watching as he hesitated only for a split second before leaning forward to take a bite.

The moment the sweet and tart flavor hit his tongue, his eyes widened in surprise, and a delighted smile broke out on his face.

"Oh, this is amazing!" he said, his voice muffled slightly by the bite still in his mouth. He chewed quickly, the taste clearly captivating him. "It's like... sweet and sour magic on a stick!" he exclaimed, looking at you with eyes that sparkled with glee.

"You like it?" you teased, unable to stop smiling at his sheer enthusiasm.

He nodded vigorously, his gaze already drifting to the next stall lined with treats. His eyes were wide with wonder, darting between the rows of colorful mochi, the crackling sound of caramel being spun into cotton candy, and the steam rising from buns filled with savory or sweet fillings.

When he reached the booth with the caramelized fruit, he watched the vendor's hands intently as they dipped apples and strawberries into molten sugar, his eyes wide with fascination. "This… this is art." he murmured, almost reverently, before taking a bite of a candied apple, his expression turning blissful as he chewed.

You couldn't help but laugh softly as he moved through the festival, completely absorbed in every new experience. Satoru was such a foodie. He grabbed anything that caught his eye, his excitement so pure and infectious that it made the night even more magical.

You continued to wander, stopping at a stall where the vendor demonstrated how to make traditional hard candies, pulling sugar into thin, colorful ribbons before shaping them into delicate lollipops. You watched, captivated, as Satoru leaned in, utterly absorbed in the process. When the vendor handed him a lollipop shaped like a fox, his eyes lit up with the kind of joy you rarely saw, unguarded and genuine.

He moved through the festival grounds like a whirlwind, his eyes alight with curiosity and excitement as he surveyed the array of sweets laid out before him. It was as if every new sight, every fragrant scent, pulled him deeper into a wonderland of flavors. You could hardly keep up as he darted from stall to stall, his enthusiasm spilling over with every new discovery.

You laughed, charmed by his enthusiasm, as he moved on to a nearby stand selling mitarashi dango - skewered rice dumplings coated in a glossy, soy sauce glaze. Satoru took a skewer, eyeing the dumplings curiously before popping one into his mouth. His expression shifted through a series of reactions, starting with surprise, then contemplation, and finally pure satisfaction.

"It's sweet and savory at the same time." he marveled, licking the sauce from his lips. "The dango is chewy, but the sauce... it's got this depth to it. It's not just sugar -it's like... umami?" he looked at you as if seeking confirmation, his brows raised in excitement. "How do they make it so good?"

Before you could answer, he was already reaching for another treat - a yatsuhashi, a thin, cinnamon-flavored rice flour pastry wrapped around a dollop of sweet red bean paste. He bit into it, the cinnamon adding a warm spice to the sweetness of the bean paste. He let out a satisfied sigh, chewing slowly as if each bite needed to be fully appreciated.

"This one's so delicate." he said, holding it up to examine the thin layer of mochi encasing the filling. "The cinnamon just... wraps around the sweetness in this really comforting way."

You watched him with a fond smile, your heart swelling at the sight of him so genuinely happy. For all his power, all his strength, there was a part of him that remained untainted by the world - a part that found joy in the sweet and the simple.

And in that moment, you couldn't help, but fall a little bit more in love with him.

As you made your way through the festival, his hands never left yours. You sampled sweet potato candy, bean paste-filled pastries, and even shared a warm taiyaki filled with red bean paste, the crispy shell cracking open to reveal the sweet, steaming filling inside. Satoru's laughter mingled with yours as he stole bites from your hands, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the lanterns.

Hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, filled with laughter, sweets, and the simple joy of being together. At one point, you found yourselves standing in front of a booth that sold soft, fluffy daifuku. You insisted he try one filled with fresh strawberries and cream, and he obliged, taking a bite and closing his eyes to savor the taste.

Satoru looked like he was on the verge of a sugar-induced bliss, his hands full of various confections he had yet to finish. He turned to you, his cheeks flushed with excitement, his eyes shining. "I don’t think I can eat another bite." he admitted, laughing. "But... one more daifuku wouldn't hurt, right?"

You laughed.

"Right." you agreed, because watching him this happy was worth every indulgence in the world.

"I can't believe you found this place." he murmured, looking at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and gratitude. "You planned all this... for me?"

"I wanted to make you happy." your heart skipping a beat at the warmth in his voice.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at you, the noise and bustle of the festival fading into the background. "You did." he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

You smiled, a quiet happiness settling over you. The festival continued to buzz around you, the air alive with the scents of sugar and joy.

----

The festival grounds were alive with a hum of activity, each game station vibrant with laughter and the bright clink of prizes being won. Paper lanterns hung above each booth, casting a warm, welcoming glow that made the whole scene feel like something out of a dream. Satoru's eyes scanned the array of stalls, and a mischievous grin spread across his face as he took in the possibilities.

"How about a little friendly competition?" he suggested, his tone teasing, as he nudged you toward the first game booth: the ring toss.

The ring toss booth was simple yet enticing, with rows of bottles lined up behind a wooden counter, their tops painted in different colors. The goal was to toss rings and land them around the necks of the bottles. Prizes hung above the stall - stuffed animals, wooden trinkets, and even small bags of candy, each prize depending on the difficulty of the toss.

Satoru paid for a handful of rings and handed half of them to you.

"Let's see who wins more." he said, his grin wide and confident. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips.

You went first, taking aim at the closest bottle. The ring left your hand in a neat arc, clattering around the neck of the bottle with a satisfying clink. Satoru raised an eyebrow, impressed but undeterred. His turn was next. He flicked his wrist, the ring soaring through the air before landing perfectly around a bottle in the back row, the more challenging target. He turned to you with a smug smile.

"Beginner's luck." you muttered playfully, determined not to be outdone. The competition escalated from there, with each of you aiming for the most difficult bottles, laughter spilling over each time a ring missed its mark or clattered to the ground. In the end, Satoru managed to land more rings than you, and he leaned against the counter, grinning.

The vendor handed him a choice of prizes, and instead of picking something for himself, he turned to you.

"Your prize, wifey." he said in an exaggerated formal tone, selecting a plush fox with bright eyes and a bushy tail. You accepted it with a grin, hugging the soft toy to your chest.

Next, you made your way to the shooting gallery, where small paper targets were lined up on moving tracks. The air rifles were simple, old-fashioned models, but the challenge was in the steady hand and precise aim required to knock down the targets. Satoru stepped up confidently, glancing at you with a raised brow.

"Care to join me, or do you want to watch a master at work?" he teased.

"Master, huh?" You shot back with a smirk. "We'll see about that."

The booth attendant handed you each a rifle, and the game began. You both took turns aiming and firing, the sound of popping balloons and the clang of knocked-over targets filling the air. Satoru was annoyingly good at it, hitting the bullseye almost every time, his focus and sharp reflexes evident. But you weren’t far behind, managing to knock down several moving targets yourself.

In the end, Satoru won by a narrow margin. He turned to the vendor, pointing at a small, intricately painted porcelain fox figurine. He picked it up and turned to you, holding it out with a gentle smile.

"You spoil me." you replied, taking the figurine carefully. His only response was a casual shrug, but the way he looked at you, eyes softening in the warm light, said more than words could.

Moving on, you came to the goldfish scooping game, a traditional stall where delicate paper scoops were used to catch darting goldfish in a shallow pool of water. The challenge lay in the fact that the paper would tear easily, making it a game of patience and skill.

"Watch and learn." Satoru announced confidently, kneeling down by the pool. He dipped his paper scoop into the water, eyes tracking the fish. For a moment, it looked like he would succeed, but just as he went to lift a fish out of the water, the paper tore, and the fish slipped away. You burst into laughter, watching his confident expression crumble into one of playful annoyance.

"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" you teased, taking a scoop for yourself.

You bent over the pool, moving the scoop slowly through the water. You felt Satoru’s eyes on you, watching intently as you coaxed a small, golden fish into the scoop. With a delicate lift, you managed to catch the fish and place it into the bowl beside the pool. Triumph surged through you as you glanced up at him, a victorious smile on your face.

He shook his head, grinning. "Beginner's luck." he echoed your earlier words, making you both laugh.

The night continued with more games. At the dart-throwing booth, you took turns popping balloons pinned to a wooden board, Satoru effortlessly hitting the hardest targets.

That dammed Six Eyes.

When you missed a shot, he playfully nudged you aside, throwing his dart with dramatic flair and popping a balloon right next to yours. The booth attendant offered a variety of prizes, and once again, Satoru chose something for you - a delicate glass jar filled with colorful, star-shaped sugar candies.

Then there was the strength tester, a tall tower with a mallet that needed to be struck to send a metal weight up to ring a bell.

"Should I use my cursed energy?" he asked, feigning seriousness. "Or should I give everyone a fair shot at winning?"

"You mean to tell me you're so weak that you need to use your powers to win a festival game?" you shot back with a playful smirk, raising one brow in challenge

He feigned an offended look, but couldn’t hide the amusement twinkling in his eyes. He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. Without a word, Satoru hefted the mallet, swinging it with ridiculous ease. The weight rocketed to the top, hitting the bell with a resounding clang that echoed across the festival. The crowd cheered as he turned back to you, flexing his arm in mock arrogance.

"Show-off." you muttered, though your smile betrayed your amusement. Crossing your arms, you shook your head, trying to play unimpressed, but he was just too... him.

"Your turn." he said, holding the mallet out to you.

You took it, feeling a little weight of it in your hands. The crowd murmured, clearly intrigued to see if you could match the previous performance. You swung the mallet with a little efford. The metal weight shot up, reaching the top, drawing a round of applause. Satoru clapped the loudest, his eyes shining with pride as he pulled you into a quick, impulsive hug.

"That's my wife!" he proclaimed proudly, his voice carrying over the crowd. He was practically bubbling over with pride, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.

A few men in the back exchanged wide-eyed, almost intimidated glances, clearly taken aback by the display of strength.

You shrugged it off casually, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. "It was nothing special." you said, trying to play it cool.

"Who's the show-off now?" Satoru teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. He knew your strength well, of course - you were a sorcerer, just like him. But the opportunity to see you take center stage, to let the world witness a glimpse of the power he admired so much in you, made his chest swell with a little pride.

You shot him a playful glare, but your lips betrayed you with a smile. "Still you." you replied lightly, bumping your shoulder against his. "I just don't have to show off as often."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you both turned to leave the booth.

The two of you moved from game to game, your laughter mingling with the sounds of the festival. The evening was filled with moments of light-hearted competition, Satoru trying to outdo you at every game, and you refusing to back down. He won more often than not, but each time he did, he chose a prize that he thought you would like - a stuffed animal, a small wooden charm, a delicate bracelet with tiny bells that jingled softly whenever you moved.

He wasn't just winning; he was showing you, in his own way, how much he cared. With each prize he handed you, his eyes held a tenderness that made your heart flutter. By the time you finished with the game stalls, your arms were filled with tokens of the night- small treasures that would remind you of this moment for a long time.

----

The crowd had thickened as the night wore on, and at some point, you and Satoru had gotten separated in the bustling festival grounds. He had turned around to say something to you, only to find an empty space where you had just been standing. His heart skipped a beat, a sliver of panic settling in his chest. He scanned the throngs of people, his height giving him a slight advantage, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of your pink yukata amidst the sea of colors.

And he has a really good eyes.

Satoru moved through the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face. The festival was loud and bright, filled with laughter and chatter, but it felt strangely hollow without you beside him. A frown creased his brow as he began to retrace his steps, weaving through the clusters of families, couples, and friends. Where could you have gone? He wondered if you’d wandered off to one of the game stalls or perhaps been drawn to something that caught your eye.

Minutes felt like hours as he searched, his mind racing with a dozen possibilities. A part of him knew you were capable and safe, but the thought of you being out of reach, even for a little while, unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He turned a corner near a booth selling candied fruits and finally, he saw you.

You were walking toward him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Relief washed over him, mingling with the faint annoyance he felt for letting you out of his sight. As you drew closer, he noticed that you were holding something behind your back, hiding it coyly.

"Where did you run off to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but unable to mask the concern in his eyes.

"I didn’t run off." you replied teasingly, "I just got a little... sidetracked." you stepped closer, finally revealing what you had been hiding. In your hands were two matching bracelets, each coiled neatly with a small collar and string.

Satoru blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The bracelets were simple yet elegant. The one in your right hand was a deep blue, the color of the evening sky just before nightfall. It had a smooth, round collar of polished metal that shone subtly under the lantern light. Attached to it was a braided string, also blue, interwoven with fine silver threads that glimmered softly. The bracelet in your left hand was pink, a soft blush hue that mirrored the shade of your yukata. It too had a small collar, this one in a warm rose gold, with a braided string of pink and gold threads.

"I won these at one of the game stalls." you explained, your voice laced with pride. "Thought they’d be a nice little keepsake." you held them out to him, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

Matching.

They were matching, and it hit him with a warmth that spread through his chest. He reached out and took the blue bracelet from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. It was lightweight but sturdy, the kind of thing that wouldn’t break easily even if worn often.

"You got these for us?" he asked, his voice softer now, the earlier worry dissolving into something more tender.

"Yes." you replied simply. "I thought... it would be nice to have something to remember tonight by." You held up the pink one, showing it off with a small flourish. "This one's mine." you added with a smile.

He couldn’t help but smile back, the knot of tension in his chest loosening. He slipped the blue bracelet over his wrist, the string settling comfortably against his skin. The metal collar gleamed faintly, catching the light. It felt right, somehow, to have this - something small yet meaningful, a token of the time you had spent together.

You fastened the pink bracelet around your wrist, the rose gold collar glinting as it caught the reflection of the lanterns. For a moment, the two of you stood there, the noise of the festival swirling around you, yet feeling like it was just the two of you in that instant. He glanced down at your wrist, then at his, a small chuckle escaping him.

"Matching bracelets, huh?" he said, his voice teasing but his eyes warm.

You nodded, meeting his gaze. "Well, I thought there were cute." you said lightly, though your eyes held a depth that made his chest tighten.

He took a step closer, lifting his wrist to brush against yours, the two bracelets touching, their colors a striking contrast. "Thank you." he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "For this... and for everything tonight."

You smiled up at him, your eyes reflecting the colorful lights around. "You're welcome," you whispered, the simple words carrying the weight of all you felt.

----

As midnight approached, the festival grounds began to shift in mood. The stalls were still alive with chatter, but a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. People moved in the same direction, gathering toward the open space near the edge of the festival grounds where the fireworks would soon light up the sky. Families found their spots, children clambering onto their parents' shoulders for a better view, while couples huddled closer, whispering excitedly.

Satoru nudged your arm gently, drawing your attention away from the crowd.

"How about we get a better view?" he suggested, tilting his head toward a small hill that overlooked the festival. The slope was gentle and dusted with wild grass, illuminated softly by the glow of the lanterns scattered across the grounds below.

You nodded, letting him take your hand as he led you away from the crowd. The climb was short, the grass crunching softly beneath your sandals. You reached the top just as the first firework burst into the sky - a single golden streak that shot upward, hanging for a heartbeat before exploding in a shower of shimmering light.

From the hill, the view was breathtaking. The night sky stretched out above you, a canvas of deep indigo speckled with stars. It was vast and open, the kind of sky that seemed to pull at your very soul. The moon hung low, a silver crescent cradled against the horizon, its pale light mingling with the colors that now blossomed in the air.

Another firework followed, this time a bouquet of red and gold that spread wide before cascading down like a waterfall of sparks. You stood side by side with Satoru, your fingers still entwined, he didn't let your hand go feeling the soft evening breeze play with the edges of your yukata.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how you gazed up at the display, your eyes wide with wonder. The colors danced across your face, painting your skin in hues of emerald, sapphire, and ruby with each explosion. Your lips parted slightly, a soft smile forming as the sky above you came alive in bursts of color and light.

Satoru’s gaze softened as he watched you. He had seen fireworks countless times before, in different places and under different circumstances, but tonight felt different. It wasn’t just the beauty of the fireworks that captivated him - it was the way you seemed to lose yourself in the spectacle, the way your eyes sparkled with each new burst, reflecting the colors that lit up the sky. He found himself more drawn to you than to the display, your presence grounding him in a way that made the world seem a little less chaotic.

The fireworks continued, each one more magnificent than the last. Spirals of green and blue shot up, followed by crackling gold that spread across the sky like a phoenix spreading its wings. Some fireworks were loud and thunderous, their echoes rolling across the valley, while others were silent, fizzling into tiny stars that lingered for a moment before fading into the night.

You sighed softly, tilting your head to rest against his shoulder. He stiffened for a brief second before relaxing, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable for you. He glanced down at you again, subtly, as if trying not to disturb the moment. The way you leaned into him, trusting, at ease, sent a warmth flooding through his chest.

More exploded, this time in a sequence of vivid purples and pinks, creating shapes that wove and twisted through the sky. The crowd below gasped and cheered, but up on the hill, it felt like the show was just you two, a private spectacle shared in the quiet space you'd carved out together.

Satoru's eyes flickered back to the sky for a moment, then back to you. The reflection of the fireworks in your eyes made them appear like two bright, endless galaxies, full of depth and life. He couldn’t look away. He wondered if you realized how radiant you looked in this moment, how the joy and serenity on your face seemed to eclipse even the brightest fireworks above.

The finale began, a rapid succession of bursts that filled the sky with color and light. Golds, blues, reds, and greens overlapped in a cacophony of brilliance, trailing sparks that lit up the entire valley. It was as if the heavens had opened, showering the earth with a celebration of light.

You inhaled sharply, your hand tightening slightly around his as the sky was filled with an intricate dance of sparks. In that instant, you turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. For a heartbeat, the fireworks ceased to matter. It was just you and him, standing there, the world around you a mere backdrop to this fleeting, perfect moment.

He offered you a small, genuine smile, one that reached his eyes and softened his features. Without a word, he lifted his free hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering near your cheek. The final burst of fireworks illuminated the sky in a blinding flash of gold, and in its light, you saw the sincerity in his gaze, the quiet depth of what he felt but left unspoken.

As the fireworks faded and the sky darkened once more, the echoes of the display drifting away into the night, Satoru leaned closer, his breath warm against your temple.

"Beautiful." he murmured, his voice low, though you weren’t sure if he was talking about the fireworks or something else entirely.

----

As the final crescendos of the fireworks show began to die down, the sky settling back into its inky darkness speckled with the faint glow of stars, you felt a familiar energy stir within you. It bubbled up, almost unbidden, a restless desire to add your own touch to the night’s spectacle. You glanced at Satoru, his gaze still turned skyward, his expression a blend of awe and contentment. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to disturb this serene moment. But then, a small smile tugged at your lips, and you decided you couldn’t help yourself.

You raised your hand slowly, focusing your energy into your palm. A soft light began to gather there, a warm, luminous glow that pulsed gently, growing brighter with each heartbeat. The positive energy bent and twisted under your will, taking form as it pooled into a delicate, shimmering shape. Satoru sensed the shift in the air and turned to look at you, his eyes widening slightly as he watched the light in your hand begin to transform.

Before him, the light morphed into the shape of a bird, its wings outstretched, its body composed of gold radiant. It was intricate and beautiful, each feather outlined in a soft, golden hue that seemed to pulse with life. For a heartbeat, it stayed there, perched in your palm, glowing brightly against the darkened sky.

Satoru stared, his eyes wide, breath held as he watched the luminous creature you had crafted. He didn't know you manage to lern how to create posivitve energy. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, a pure manifestation of enegry, delicate and awe-inspiring.

With a gentle exhale, you lifted your hand and let the bird go. It took flight, rising gracefully into the air, its wings moving fluidly as if it were a living creature. It soared upward, leaving a faint golden trail behind it, weaving through the night sky with an elegance that took the breath away. The crowd below gasped as they noticed this new light, their eyes following the bird as it glided over the festival, casting a warm glow upon the faces of the people gathered.

Satoru couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. His usual composure cracked, revealing a look of raw wonder that you rarely saw on his face. His lips parted slightly, his eyes reflecting the hue of the bird as it climbed higher into the sky, the positive energy within it growing more intense. It was as if you had captured a piece of the stars and given it wings, a living embodiment of the night’s magic.

The bird flew above the festival, a graceful arc that seemed to bless the gathering below. It soared higher and higher, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a final, powerful beat of its wings, the bird exploded in a brilliant burst of sparkles.

The sky lit up with the most stunning shade of gold the world had ever seen, a color so vivid and warm it felt like sunlight breaking through the dark. It spread across the horizon, an eruption of light that outshone the final fireworks, cascading down in a rain of shimmering sparks that slowly faded into the night.

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their voices echoing across the festival grounds. They didn’t know where this last miracle had come from, but it didn’t matter. To them, it was simply the perfect ending to a perfect night.

Satoru stood frozen beside you, his eyes fixed on the fading light in the sky. Slowly, he turned to you, his expression one of utter astonishment. "You…." he began, his voice low and almost breathless. He struggled for words, his usual confidence slipping away as he tried to grasp what he'd just witnessed.

He didn't know you can bend energy like this. This was hard, for an average sorcerer this would took forverer to uderstand, or to even create it, but you just created a bird from it. Something so hopeful, full of light, to contrast the curses and darkness that you normally conquer or exorcise.

"You did that." he finished, his voice carrying a mix of awe and disbelief.

You looked at him, a playful glint in your eyes "I couldn't help myself, sometimes I want to show off too." you admitted, a small, sheepish smile on your lips. You glanced back up at the sky where the golden sparks had lingered, now just a faint memory in the dark.

He continued to stare at you, his gaze intense, as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. Then, to your surprise, his expression softened, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. It wasn’t his usual teasing smirk or the sly grin he often wore - it was a smile of pure, unguarded admiration.

"That was amazing." he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart flutter. There was no pretense, no hint of the usual banter. Just those simple words, spoken with a sincerity that made your breath hitch.

He reached out, hesitating for a fraction of a second before his hand found yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and firm, grounding you in the reality of this moment. His eyes holding yours.

You felt a warmth spread through you, different from the power you had just wielded. It was softer, deeper, something that came not from within you, but from this quiet connection between you and him. You squeezed his hand, your smile widening as you gazed up at him.

"Thank you." you murmured, the words barely audible over the cheers still ringing from below. But you knew he heard you, saw it in the way his eyes softened further, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand.

"Not a show off, yeah?" he teased. You just smirked at that comment.

The night sky was dark again, the fireworks over, the golden light faded. But for the two of you, standing there on the hill, the brilliance of that moment lingered, glowing quietly in the space between you.

----

Your friend’s car hummed softly as it navigated the quiet, winding roads back to the rental house. The festival was now a distant glow behind you, the sounds and lights fading into the night as the car drove through the peaceful countryside. Satoru sat beside you in the back seat, his gaze fixed out the window, lost in his thoughts. The soft glow of the dashboard lights cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the mix of emotions that swirled within him - contentment, tenderness, something deeper that twisted his heart with an almost painful ache.

You sat quietly next to him, the bag of prizes resting on your lap. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather a quiet after the storm of the evening, a shared stillness that spoke of the connection forged throughout the night. Occasionally, you glanced at him, catching the reflection of the moonlight in his eyes. Each time, he seemed to be miles away, caught in the lingering magic of the night’s events.

When your friend pulled up to the rental house, you turned to him with a grateful smile.

"Thank you so much for the ride." you said, your voice soft. He gave you a warm smile in return, waving off your thanks with an easygoing shrug.

"No problem." he replied, glancing at Satoru with a nod. "You two have a good night. Get some rest."

Satoru mumbled his thanks, distractedly opening the car door and stepping out. You followed, carefully gathering all the prizes he had won into your arms - the plush fox, the porcelain figurine, the small glass jar filled with sugar candies, and all the little trinkets that had come to symbolize the memories of the night. Satoru reached over to help, his hand brushing against yours as he steadied the tower of items. For a brief moment, your eyes met, and you both smiled, a quiet understanding passing between you.

"See you around." your friend called out before driving off, leaving you and Satoru standing in the driveway, surrounded by the stillness of the night. The rental house loomed ahead, dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the festival. You both moved towards it, carrying the night’s treasures with you.

Inside, the house was cool and dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. You walked into the living room, carefully placing all the prizes on the small wooden table. Satoru watched you from the doorway, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his heart feeling strangely heavy. You moved with a quiet grace, arranging each item on the table with care. The sight of it - the plush toys, the small trinkets, the delicate bracelet still on your wrist made something in him twist painfully.

He felt raw, like every barrier he had carefully constructed around his heart had been stripped away by the night. Watching you smile softly at the collection of prizes, your eyes glowing with the warmth of the evening, he felt a surge of emotions that left him feeling fragile.

Vulnerable. Eager.

A deep yearning for tenderness, for some word or touch that would ground him in the storm of feelings swirling inside.

You glanced up at him, catching the look in his eyes, so open, so full of unspoken things and you felt your own chest tighten. You gave him a gentle smile, one that didn’t need words, before turning toward the bedroom, carrying a small bag with you.

"I arranged with the seamstress to pick up the yukata tomorrow." you said over your shoulder as you entered the room. "We can leave them here tonight." your voice was light, matter-of-fact, but the simplicity of the statement seemed to pierce through him, highlighting the fleeting nature of it all. The night, the festival, the moments of connection, it would all end with the dawn, leaving behind only memories and the ache of what once was.

He stood there, rooted in place, feeling like he could shatter with the slightest touch. The need for some form of closeness, some affirmation that this wasn’t just a dream, burned within him so fiercely it was almost painful. He watched as you placed the bag down on the small table in the bedroom and you began to take off your hair decorations, the fabric of your yukata rustling softly in the quiet.

Satoru swallowed hard, his throat tightening around the words he couldn't bring himself to say. The house around him felt both too large and too small, the space between you a chasm he desperately wanted to cross. Every step you took, every soft movement, felt like it was tearing him apart with a longing he could barely comprehend.

You turned back to face him, sensing the shift in the air.

He was standing in the doorway, his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath catch. There was something in his eyes, that dream like blue gazing, something raw and unguarded that you had never seen so openly in him before. It was as if all the walls he had built up over time had crumbled, leaving him exposed and yearning for something he couldn’t quite name.

"Satoru, is eveything okey?" you whispered, taking a step towards him. You were so caring, so devouted, so... His name on your lips was a lifeline, a tether to reality in the midst of his tumultuous emotions. He watched you close the distance between you, feeling the vulnerability within him flare up, a stark contrast to his usual self-assured demeanor.

He didn’t know how to ask for what he needed, didn’t even know if he could.

But as you stood before him, your eyes soft and searching, he felt a glimmer of hope, that maybe, just maybe, this tenderness he craved wasn’t out of reach.

Satoru stood there, every emotion crashing against him like relentless waves. The gentleness in your eyes, the way you looked at him with such unguarded warmth, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you. The need to touch you, to feel the solidity of you against him, was so strong it hurt.

He had spent so long keeping parts of himself hidden, maintaining that cool facade, but this night had unraveled everything deep within him, leaving him raw and aching for more.

You stepped closer, sensing the turmoil within him, the battle waging behind those intense crystal eyes. Your hand moved almost instinctively, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair from his forehead. The touch was feather-light, but it was enough to break something inside him. He inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, as if savoring the feel of your fingers against his skin.

When he opened his eyes again, the vulnerability there was unmistakable. He didn’t try to hide it. Instead, he let you see everything, the longing, the fear, the desire for something more than words could express. You felt the weight of his gaze, the way it bore into you, pleading without a single sound.

"Satoru?" you asked, whispered his name again, your voice a soft anchor in the storm of his emotions. It was a question and an answer all at once, an invitation for him to close the distance if he wanted to.

And he did. God, he did.

He reached out slowly, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your cheek. The warmth of your skin beneath his palm sent a jolt through him, a reassurance that this was real, that you were here with him. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. It was so simple, yet it held the weight of everything he had been yearning for all night.

His other hand found your waist, hesitantly at first, then with more certainty, pulling you closer. He needed to feel you against him, needed to know that this connection wasn't something that would fade with the night. Your bodies came together with a quiet sigh, fitting perfectly in a way that felt like the culmination of every unspoken word and stolen glance.

Satoru pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut as he breathed you in, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your breath against his lips. It was overwhelming and grounding all at once. He didn’t move for a moment, just held you there, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

"I..." he began, his voice hoarse, choked with the rawness of everything he felt. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words.

How could he tell you that you made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying, yet so breathtakingly beautiful?

How could he explain that you made him feel more alive than he had could ever imagine?

But you didn’t need him to say it.

You looked up at him, your eyes shining with understanding, with the same mix of emotions that were tearing him apart. You brought your hands up to his face, cradling it gently, your thumbs brushing softly over his cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut once more, a quiet sigh escaping his lips.

" 'toru.." you whispered, the sound of his nickname a soothing balm against the rawness of his heart. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

He opened his eyes then, staring down at you, searching your face for something - permission, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t a dream. And what he found in your eyes was everything he needed. Acceptance, tenderness, a silent promise that you were here, truly here, with him, in this moment.

Unable to hold back any longer, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It wasn’t hurried or rough - it was a quiet plea, a soft surrender to the feelings he had kept locked away for so long, that sometimes slipped from him in his weakest moment. His lips moved against yours with an urgency born from the fear, that this might slip away if he didn't hold onto it tightly enough.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. You kissed him back with the same intensity, meeting his vulnerability with your own. It was as if every touch, every breath you shared was weaving you both closer, binding you in a way that felt unbreakable.

He pulled you tighter against him, his hands moving from your waist to wrap around your back, holding you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened, slow and aching, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that neither of you could fully express. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no rental house, no onsen, no festival, no past or future - only this shared space between you, warm and safe.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged, his eyes still closed as if savoring the lingering taste of your lips on his. He felt fragile, like he might shatter at any moment, but in the most beautiful way possible. You had cracked him open, and for the first time, he didn’t want to close himself off again.

"I just..." he started, his voice breaking slightly. "I just needed this." his words were almost a confession, a quiet acknowledgment of the vulnerability that had overwhelmed him.

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Me too." you whispered back, your voice steady and full of a certainty that eased the tightness in his chest. You were here with him, present and real, and that was enough.

He let out a shaky breath, his grip on you tightening for a moment before he relaxed into the embrace.

"Stay." he murmured a plea. He didn’t mean just tonight. He meant here, in this space you had created together, in this fragile yet undeniable connection.

And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that was exactly what you intended to do.

Satoru's breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to keep control. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every inch of his skin tingling with the need to be closer to you. The kiss, the way you held him, had set something loose inside him.

"I... I can't hold it anymore." he confessed, his voice low and raw, edged with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. He swallowed hard, his breath hot. His eyes were intense, a storm of desire, fear, and longing swirling within them. "I just... can't."

He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening as if realizing how close he was, how tightly he was holding you. He stepped back an inch, his hands dropping from your waist, as if he had been burned. His gaze flickered with uncertainty and something close to panic.

"I'm sorry." he blurted out, his voice cracking. "I didn’t even ask... if I could... if you wanted this... if I could ever touch you like that."

Well, he didn't asked it at onsen. Not that it mattered, when you craved it so much.

It was so unlike him - the confident, arrogant Satoru you knew - standing there with his shoulders tense, his eyes searching yours desperately for reassurance. He looked fragile, his usual facade stripped away to reveal a man who was vulnerable and uncertain, terrified of crossing a line that would push you away.

You felt your heart squeeze painfully at the sight of him like this. Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a firm, reassuring embrace. His body went rigid for a heartbeat before he melted into your hold, his hands coming up to clutch at your back as if you were his lifeline.

"It’s okay." you murmured into his ear, your voice steady and soothing. "I want you to touch me. I want this." you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your gaze soft but filled with certainty. "I want you, Satoru."

Something shifted in his eyes at your words, the fear giving way to a rush of relief and desire that made him shudder in your arms. He let out a shaky breath, his hands moving up to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if he was still trying to believe that this was real. His eyes searched yours for a moment longer before he leaned in again, capturing your lips with a hunger that left you breathless.

This kiss was different from the first, a torrent of passion and longing that had been held back for too long. His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding down to your waist before finding the belt of your yukata. He paused, his lips hovering over yours, his breath warm and ragged.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." he whispered, his voice a mix of command and plea, his eyes locked onto yours.

You shook your head, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Don’t stop." you replied, the words barely a breath "I don’t want you to stop."

He needed no further encouragement. His fingers deftly untied the belt of your yukata, the fabric loosening around you. He kissed you again, harder, faster, as his hands slipped beneath the material, pushing it off your shoulders in a slow, deliberate motion. The fabric slid down your arms, pooling around your feet in a soft whisper. You felt the cool air against your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat radiating from him as he pressed his body against yours.

You gasped into his mouth, the sensation of his hands on your bare skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. He pulled back slightly, his eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the curves of your body now exposed to him. There was no arrogance in his gaze, no smugness, only awe and reverence, as if he was seeing you for the first time, even if he saw you over the course of years together so many times.

It made you feel beautiful, cherished in a way that went beyond the physical.

Your hands moved to his waist, finding the belt of his yukata. You paused, your eyes meeting his in a silent question. He nodded, his gaze dark and intense, silently giving you permission. With trembling fingers, you untied his belt, letting the fabric fall open. He shrugged off the yukata, the material slipping from his broad shoulders, revealing the hard lines of his body.

He stood before you, every inch of him laid bare. His body was always a perfect view to admire. For a moment, you both stood there, the weight of what was happening sinking in.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him. Skin against skin, his warmth enveloping you entirely. You let out a soft sigh, your hands finding their way up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

He bent his head, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a line of fire in their wake. His hands roamed your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness, exploring every curve, every contour. You arched into his touch, your own hands sliding up to thread through his hair, holding him to you.

"Satoru..." you breathed, his name a whisper on your lips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. They were dark with desire, but there was something more there - something that made your heart ache. Vulnerability, tenderness, the look of a man who had finally allowed himself to want something deeply, fully.

"I need you." he said, his voice barely more than a rough whisper, his hands tightening on your waist. "Can I?"

You answered him with a kiss, pouring everything you felt into it -your desire, your acceptance, your own vulnerability laid bare. You pressed closer, letting your bodies meld together, the world around you fading into nothingness. There was only the two of you, standing there in the dimly lit room, skin against skin, heart against heart.

Slowly, he guided you back towards the bed, his movements careful and deliberate. Every touch, every kiss, was an unspoken promise, a silent declaration that this was real, that this was more than just a fleeting moment. As you sank onto the bed, he followed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes locked onto yours with a gaze so intense it made your breath catch.

He kissed you again, softer this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He held you like you were something precious, something fragile that he never wanted to let go of. And in that moment, as his lips traveled down your body, as he worshiped every inch of you with his touch, you knew that this was the start of something you both had been waiting for to happend again, something that went beyond words, beyond the night.

His body was bathed in the soft, dim light of the room, the contours of his muscles standing out in sharp relief. You had seen him like this before in passing years with him, but in glimpses, that had never lingered. But now, with nothing between you, there was a quiet intensity to his presence. He was beautiful, every inch of him carved with a kind of grace that took your breath away.

His hand reached for the clasp of your bra behind you and undid it in an efficient motion. You wondered for a second, how much practice he got out of you, over the years you'd spent together, if he'd learned that smooth move through you.

His gaze returned to you, his eyes raking over your body, now laid bare almost before him.

His hands moved tentatively at first, fingertips grazing the delicate skin just beneath your collarbone, tracing downward toward the swell of your breasts.

You could see the way his throat worked as he swallowed, his pupils dilating with every inch he explored. His fingers were warm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they finally settled, cupping your breasts gently. He paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, his gaze softened, filled with something deeper than just desire.

The way he looked at you made your skin prickle with heat, not from embarrassment, but from the sheer power of his desire. It wasn’t just lust in his eyes, it was an admiration, a raw need that made your heart thud in your chest.

"So beautiful." he murmured, almost to himself, his voice low and husky. He leaned down, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the curve of your breast, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. The tenderness in his movements was at odds with the intensity in his eyes, as though he were fighting a losing battle to savor every second without rushing.

Slowly, he reached out, his fingers grazing the curve of your waist, trailing down your hip, and finally, over your thigh. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued to explore your skin, his hand moving with a mixture of awe and possession.

"God." he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "You’re... perfect. You always were." there was an almost pained quality to his voice, like he was struggling to find the right words to express what he was feeling.

You reached up, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. His muscles tensed under your touch, a subtle shudder running through him as you traced the lines of his body.

Satoru moved then, his body pressing against yours, skin to skin, the sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. He kissed you again, harder, his lips claiming yours with a fervor that made you dizzy. His hands slid down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs as he shifted, pulling you closer to him, as if he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, drawing him nearer. His body pressed against yours fully now, the heat of him sinking into you, making you arch into his touch. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged against your lips as he rested his forehead against yours. For a moment, you both just breathed, the rhythm of your heartbeats filling the space between you.

"I’ve wanted this." he confessed, his voice raw and strained. "I’ve wanted you... for so long. Again."

You didn’t reply with words, there were none that could capture what you felt. Instead, you pulled him down to you, your lips finding his again in a kiss. The way you moved against each other, the way you fit together, felt like a completion, the rubbing against eachother, like something that had been missing had finally fallen into place.

You felt him everywhere, his presence overwhelming, consuming, and you surrendered to it completely.

Satoru suddenly went down. Each kiss sent shivers down your skin. Kissing your belly, lower abdomen and the inside of your thighs. Until he came to the place that needed it most, covered in a thin material. His white hair tickled your delicate skin.

"You are so wet." he gasped, mesmerised, running his finger over the soaked fabric. Shame crept onto your face, you wanted to hide your face, but you couldn't take your eyes off the fascination and hunger his face expressed. He played with the slippery material for a while, charmed by your reaction as you wriggled and shook slightly, waiting for more. You thought you were going to burn, that you couldn't stand the friction, which sent waves of heat and anticipation into every cell of your body. His hands glided down your legs, pawing at the material of your underwear and finally slipping it off, showing him a sight that was finally not covered or obscured by anything.

“I missed this view.” he placed one tiny kiss on you, on that tender spot, eliciting a gasp from you, making you come alive.

He was so focused. Watching you shine all over there for him. One finger slipped suddenly into you, bringing out the gasp from your lips. He slided in so easily, that you should be ebarressed by this easiness. You tightened your fingers on the fabric of the sheet.

He pumped it inside you a couple of times, stretching the walls slowly, like he was exploring. Then added another, pumping a little faster and firmer. He searched for tempo, angle, rhythm that would elicit as much sound from you as possible. Your moans and gasps filled the room, as he finally observed, what made you tremble and your toes curl. His fingers were perfect, long, so wonderfully filling.

You couldn't comprehend how perfectly they straddled your walls, how perfectly they hit all your sensitive spots, that you dreamed of targeting every time you let your tension ease. Without success.

He started working his mouth too, kissing, sucking and licking with such ferocity, that you thought you could see stars from every move his mouth made. You couldn't concentrate, the world felt dizzy, you bit your lip to keep quiet, not wanting to sound stupid from the pleasure you felt.

This encouraged Satoru to increase the intensity of every thing he performed on you. His fingers began to slide in faster and deeper, even though you thought it was impossible. His tongue licked a bigger chunk of your flesh, and his mouth sucked harder, eliciting shivers from the orchestration that was happening on you.

Your other hand weaved into his hair, catching a large chunk of white curls and pressing his head slightly, against you. He growled lightly, pressing himself closer to you. His nose rubbed against your clit with every movement of your hips, which caught a rhythm of their own, chasing something you longed to reach. Your legs shook and you could feel everything inside you building, swirling looking for a way out.

"Please, please…" you begged breathlessly, absolutly drowned in pleasure. You wanted it so badly. He made you wanted it. So much that you didn't think about what you were talking about, that you didn't know where you were. You only knew that he, his touch, was driving you to the edge.

It all grew inside you, higher and higher, until it finally shattered you, arching your back and tightening your thighs against his face. Orgasm spread over you like a wave, leaving you shaken and vulnerable. Stronger, than you could have imagined.

You squeezed your thighs tighter instinctively, somehow trapping his face between your legs, as he guided you through the whole process extending your pleasure to the end.

Satoru didn't seem to mind, growling and moaning a little. More than once he joked about how he could die between your legs, but you never took his words seriously. Until now.

Your chest rose and fell in heavy, irregular breaths. A haze of bliss clouded your senses, leaving you utterly dazed. Your hands, once clenched tightly in the sheets, now lay limp at your sides, your body sinking into the bed, as if it could melt into the warmth that enveloped you.

Satoru watched you with a satisfied, almost smug expression, his lips curling into a flirtatious smile. There was a gleam in his eyes, a mixture of pride and possessiveness, as he took in the sight of you, completely undone, caught in the afterglow of the pleasure he had drawn from you. He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully, while his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He could still taste you on his tongue, a taste that lingered, rich and intoxicating.

He had tasted so many sweets tonight, but nothing compared to the taste of you. You were, without a doubt, the sweetest thing he had ever experienced.

He moved up slowly, his lips leaving a heated trail along your skin as he made his way back up to you. You could feel every breath he took, the warmth of his exhale sending shivers through you. As he hovered over you, he paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto yours, he wanted to gave you a minute to gain consciousness.

As soon as he noticed the dazed look in your eyes begin to fade, the focus slowly returning, Satoru didn’t hesitate. He moved with swift precision, lowering his head to press his lips against the delicate skin of your neck. His kisses were hot and urgent, trailing along the line of your throat, igniting sparks across your skin.

You gasped softly, your senses still heightened and your body sensitive to his every touch. He kissed you there with an intensity that made you arch into him, each kiss lingering as if he wanted to imprint himself into every inch of you. His lips traveled to the sensitive spot just below your ear, where he nipped gently before soothing the skin with his tongue, drawing a shiver from you.

His hands were not idle, they moved up your sides, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.

As Satoru pressed his body closer against yours, you felt something hard, sizable, and warm against your pussy. You could feel it sliding over your wet folds, latching onto your clit teasingly, soaking up your wetness and spreading it all over his member, smearing a white pearl of precum on the tip. You were almost drooling.

It was a sensation you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity, a feeling you'd been yearning for, one that made every nerve in your body come alive. Now, here you were, your body trembling with excitement and need.

His mouth found the curve of your neck, and you felt a gasp escape your lips as his teeth grazed your skin. He hissed softly, the sound a mix of restraint and desire. His hands were everywhere, gliding over your waist, your hips, as he held you close, making you two rub agains eachother with more friction. A soft moans and gasps escaped your lips.

He moved to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips pressing firm yet gentle against your pulse point. You could feel the heat of him, the tension in his muscles as he fought to keep himself in check. He pressed himself against you with more force, rubbing against your entrance teasing it, making you hold your voice.

"Look what a mess you've made... of me." he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, almost ragged. He bit down softly, eliciting a sharp inhale from you, and then soothed the spot with his tongue, sending a wave of warmth coursing through you.

Your hands found their way to his hair, threading through the soft strands, holding him to you as his mouth continued its exploration. Each hiss against your neck, each brush of his lips, sent sparks of electricity shooting through your body. It was as if every nerve ending was attuned to him, responding to every little touch, every sigh against your skin.

When he finally lifted his head to look at you, his blue eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. He held your gaze, his lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow.

"Tell me." he whispered, his voice barely more than a husky murmur, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me what you want."

There was no teasing in his voice now, no playful smirk on his lips, just raw honesty and a need for you to guide him, to let him know this was what you wanted too.

With a shuddering breath, you tilted your head slightly, baring more of your neck to him in answer.

"I want you." you whispered, your voice trembling with the emotions swirling inside you. "I want all of you."

The tension was unbearable, every second stretched into eternity. You felt like you were going mad, the need consuming you, overwhelming every thought until you could barely stand it anymore. Your voice, breathless and trembling, broke the silence.

"Satoru." you whispered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing." a bashful command. Your words, so raw and urgent, sent a shudder through him.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as though savoring the power of that moment, of your need for him, but the look in your eyes must have driven him over the edge, as he lifted your leg slightly, making more room, and guided the tip to your entrance, pressing gently against it.

A short moan broke from your lips as you felt him stretch you. Satoru wanted to slide in slowly, giving you time to get used to it, but you were so wet, so eager, that you accepted him at once. That suprised you both, as you gasped for air.

He didn't even know that he had pushed his hips all the way in unconsciously, too lost in the pleasure and the feelings he had inside to think logically. His eyes softened, his expression changed, his brow furrowed and his mouth opened, letting out a sweet moan.

"F-fuck, so tight... so wet…" moved gently backwards and pressed himself to the very end "A-ah, fuck!"

He filled you up so well. You put your legs around him pressing him closer to you, wanting to feel every last bit of his member. Satoru definitely let himself be carried away by the pleasure, pressing his lips to your neck and rolling his hips in a slow rhythm at first.

Every thrust he made you shiver and pleasure spilled from your lower abdomen to your entire body, dulling your mind. The rythm was nice and slow. His cock reached to the deepest parts of you kissing your cervix with every move.

It didn't take long before his movements began to speed up. Thrusting into you faster and with greater intensity, making you unable to control the moans that were coming out of you. His member lapped deeper, deeper and deeper, until you drove your nails into Satoru's back from the sensation, as he hit your g-spot. He whined, as you dragged your nails across his back.

"That's the spot, huh?" he said with an exhale of broken breath.

A few moves like that and you were both drunk on pleasure. He was so vocal, moaning, whining, gasping, complimenting how wonderful you were to him, how good it felt, how you take him so well.

He shifted, his body moving against yours with more precision, as he adjusted the angle of his thrusts to hit the sensitive spot inside you every time.

You could feel the tears coming to your eyes. It felt so good, so wonderful, as his cock penetrated your insides, meeting a point that took your breath away and made you dumb with pleasure.

You were so cockdrunk you were begging for more.

"Plase, more.. aaahn~" your eyes rolled back "j-justlikethat… ah 'toru.. please!" you repeated his name like a prayer, as he fulfilled your every little request - on more, on harder, on faster.

His thrusts were relentless and the sound of skin slapping against skin was everywhere.

You could feel the second orgasm gathering inside you, even more intense than the last one. Satoru must have felt it too, because he lowered himself to your ear to whisper a question.

"Where…?" he gasped, another moan breaking out of him as you pressed his hips with your legs, making his head fall onto your shoulder, helpless from the amount of pleasure you both felt.

"Inside." you cried, as he began to kiss away ever tear that fell down your flushed cheeks.

You were so close, you felt like you're gonna burn until nothing's left. What send you over the edge was his thumb, making it's way between your colliding hips and rubbing your sensitive clit that send another wave of pleasure that compleatly washed you away. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks for him to admire later.

He felt how you tighted against him, he growled, feeling he is going to bust in just a few seconds as well.

He kissed you hurriedly, swallowing your moans, as he rapidly pounded into you with everything that has left in him. He pulled away from your lips. For moment he rested his forehead against your, as his movements began to be stutter.

"Please sweetie, take me there." his voice sweet from pleasure "I want it so bad.. please."

A few harder thrusts and his body tightened against you. A loud moan escaped his swollen lips, as pressed his hips as far as he could into you. His cum painted your walls white, everything spilling inside you like warm lava.

His head fell numbly onto your breasts.

His chest rose and fell in sync with yours, each breath a quiet testament to the intensity of the moments just passed. You lay there together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, the air around you warm and still. Your breathing was slowly starting to calm down.

Slowly, you reached out, your fingers seeking his. The moment your hand found his, he squeezed it gently, a silent exchange of everything that words couldn't capture.

A soft smile crept onto his face, one that spoke of contentment, satisfaction, and something deeper that had been unspoken for far too long. He turned his head to look at you, eyes softening as they met yours. There was a glow to him now, a tenderness that made your heart beat faster.

You turned your head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, feeling the sweat-dampened strands of his hair against your lips.

He pulled out of you, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness, his cum leacking from you, staining the sheets, but now coulnd't care less.

You will clean it later. Maybe.

Satoru shifted beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist in a gentle, but firm embrace. He pulled you closer, tucking you against his chest, as if he needed to feel every part of you pressed against him to believe this moment was real. You snuggled into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck, his warmth enveloping you completely.

For a moment, you both simply lay there, breathing in the calm that had settled over you like a warm blanket.

Then, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and he was already looking down at you, his eyes soft and bright. There was a glimmer of something playful in his eyes, something so unmistakably him.

A small giggle bubbled up from his chest, and before you knew it, you were both giggling softly. It was the kind of laughter that came from a place of pure joy, a sweet, almost childlike sound that filled the room. His laughter was warm and contagious, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched you.

"You're such a dork." you whispered between giggles, unable to stop smiling.

He let out a breathy laugh, pulling you even closer "Says the person who’s giggling right along with me." he teased back, his tone light and filled with affection.

You both dissolved into another fit of soft laughter, your foreheads pressing together as you shared this small, tender moment.

Satoru's lips moved gently over yours, soft and unhurried, as if savoring each kiss like it was the first. His hand cupped your face, fingers tracing light patterns on your skin, while your own hand absentmindedly stroked his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was calm, peaceful, the perfect kind of afterglow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

But then, reality began to creep back into your mind, and with it, the thought of what came next - what people would think, especially those closest to you. You let out a soft sigh against his lips, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead against his.

"What do you think Megumi’s going to say when he sees us like this?" you murmured, a hint of amusement in your voice, though the thought gnawed at you a little.

Satoru chuckled, the sound low and warm, vibrating through his chest. His eyes glinted with that familiar playfulness, the corners of his lips curling into a small, teasing smile "Megumi?" he echoed, tilting his head to look at you "He'll probably think some curse took over us." he said, his voice light with amusement "Either that, or he'll just roll his eyes and pretend he's not surprised."

You couldn’t help, but laugh softly at that, the image of Megumi standing there with his usual unimpressed expression coming to mind "He would, wouldn't he?" you replied, shaking your head "I can already see the look on his face."

"Yep." Satoru continued, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead "He'd just sigh and probably mutter something about how troublesome we are. But you know he wouldn't really mind. Deep down, he'd be happy for us."

You smiled at his words, letting them settle over you. It was true, Megumi had always been quietly supportive in his own way "Yeah." you agreed softly, your fingers tracing random patterns on Satoru's chest "But still... it feels strange, like we've been hiding this part of ourselves for so long, and now it’s just... out there."

Satoru hummed in agreement, his lips moving against the side of your temple.

"Maybe." he admitted "But we were never really hiding, were we? We were just... finding our way here." his hand moved to your back, stroking it gently, a soothing rhythm that made you relax even further into his embrace.

"It is real." he murmured against your skin "And maybe it's a little strange, and maybe Megumi will think we’ve lost our minds, but this is us. And I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be."

You closed your eyes, feeling the truth of his words settle into your bones. It was real, and it was beautiful in all its strangeness.

"Yeah, that true." you whispered, turning your head slightly to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks."

Satoru grinned, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light "Exactly. And if anyone asks, we’ll just tell them the strongest sorcerer finally met his match." he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, earning a laugh from you.

"You really are impossible." you teased, shaking your head.

He just smirked, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against yours again "Only for you." he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth.

He continued, his expression slightly changed.

"But honestly, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my wife - not just on paper anymore." his eyes softened as he looked at you, the weight of his words sinking in "We've been each other's since we took care of one another, and now… now we’re really together." he continued "I've always been yours, I was too scared to accept this. Now.." his blue gaze still focused on you "I'm not afraid."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the moment, but everything to do with the feeling of finally being seen and claimed in the way you had always longed for. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you looked at him with a softness that mirrored his own.

"And you’re finally my husband. We’re finally together. The way we were always supposed to be." you replied, your voice trembling with the emotion of that truth.

It had taken eight years, eight long years of pretend marriage for you both to truly become this - a union that was more than just a title, more than just a piece of paper, more than friendship and sharing duties. It was real now, tangible in every kiss, every touch, every word shared between you.

He grinned at that, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of joy and relief "We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time." he added, his voice tender, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. "No more half-measures, no more walls, no more running away. "

You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears, tears of finally being seen, of being loved the way you had always longed to be.

"Just us." you whispered back, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand anchor you.

"Yeah." he murmured, his lips brushing yours in the softest of kisses, sealing the promise between you. This was where you were meant to be, where he was meant to be. Together, in the quiet after the storm, finally, undeniably, whole.

"Just the two of us."

© noira-l 2024 | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, or redistirbute my work without permission

[eight-cats-in-a-box]

Reasons why Jet Black is the Ultimate Husbando:

1. He can cook

THIS IS CANON

2. He's a GENTLEMAN

Look at him and tell me he DIDN'T treat his mama right

That's right

You can't

3. He hasn't broken hearts

Only had his heart broken

(rip 😔)

4. He likes bonsai trees

Again, canon

Anyone who likes plants is (usually) a kind soul

5. HE'S SO SHAPED LOOK AT HIM AAAAAAA

6.✨Trauma✨

I won't elaborate bc ✨spoilers✨ but ya

7. He's good with kids

He's so mom friend omg

Again, canon

8. Sweet boi

Couldn't harm a soul

But he has to

He's a ✨cowboy✨

9. Thicc

Look at him

He's built like a BRICK WALL DAMMIT

MANS GOT MORE TIDDY THAN I DO (not self deprecation, just observation)

AAAAA

World cold, world hard(shut up), tiddy soft, tiddy warm

10. Warmf

Good snuggles

Good hugs

Overall 10/10 Bf/husband

Wish he was real

✨But alas,✨ my fair Romeo shall remain fiction

this gif is so cute fml

Reasons why Spike Spiegel is Ultimate Husbando #2:

1. Floof

Look at him

He would APPRECIATE head scritches

Somf boi

2. Strong man

He can fight like he's dancing, he would give INCREDIBLE snuggles

lanky green bean lookin ass

3. More trauma

Also got his heart broken

Poor boi needs hugs

But he's too cool for that

no he's not go hug him

4. Fashion

He wears a SUIT

to FIGHT PPL

HE HAS FASHION SENSE

5. Good with his hands

Do I need to elaborate 7w7

6. Flirt

Fucking flirty

Whyyyy

Aaaaaa

7. Can drive

Bc we all know that's awesome

And he drives like a champ

Got the speeding tickets to prove it/ref

8. Probably a good kisser

Idk just a hunch

why is he not realllll aaaaaa

9. He's so sweet when he wants to be

But he's so depressed

And it's so sad

10. He absolutely has tiddy

It's canon

WORLD COLD AND HARD, TIDDY SOFT AND WARM

10/10

WHY IS HE NOT REALLLLL

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

EDIT: Since y'all seem to like my crackfic writing, why don't you check out some of my other stuff?

[mad3lyncline]

𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑭𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 – 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬 . EVEN MORE starters from the cscoopVEVO 'highcraft' videos . adjust pronouns as necessary !

[ name ] is being slain by witches .

we should make this our house .

dude , there's like a little gnome laughing at us right here .

what the fuck is this ?! theres like , a big ass goat !

i've never seen a man who was so on his grind .

motherfucker wishes he was in an agrarian society .

this dude , like , yearns for the days of feudalism .

piece him up ! piece him up ! i swear to god if he lives past this . . .

i'm picking up the meats when i come back up .

nobody knows i have all the trophies .

there's a pack of yetis over here . . . i'm gonna fight 'em .

oh god . . . a yeti just threw me into the water .

it spawned inside his little safety space !

me when i see motherfuckers

let's roll as a squad .

this is why i get lost in caves .

stop punching me , what – you psychopath ?!

a lot is lost , i am not gonna lie .

mothafuckin' . . . you ready to fight it ?

[ name ] just ran in bare chested , dude , he's not even wearing pants !

dude , you look like the guy i'm scared of .

you didn't answer , so i just killed you .

no dude , we don't have the materials for that .

this looks like a bonsai tree somehow , you know what i'm saying ?

is that where the fishing pond's gonna be ?

oh my god , never been more careful in my life .

i don't have to subside on anything but a single drop of dew and the energy of the universe .

thought there was gonna be a whole , like , dance number and everything .

i could absolutely massacre some food right now .

put those grippers away !

you are really a sick and deranged individual , you know that ?

i don't wanna mine with you anymore .

i have to get my clothes out of the dryer you fuck , don't fuck with me .

what kind of vivacious activities are you guys up to ?

for murder , you gotta take a bong rip .

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 34 - Heads for no Tails (part 1)

This is THE Kerubim Child Neglect episode, and yet all I can say about its beginning is "what a silly little goofster"

At first, I thought, "Well, at least he put this item at the very top. A normal child might not have climbed that".

And then I paused, and thought to myself, "why is Joris allowed to enter the Evil Cursed Weapons That Kill People storage room to play".

I hate everything about this man, even his stupid bonsai tree. What do you MEAN you're caring for a bonsai tree while Joris is pretty much playing with matches next to a gas pipe.

I need to kill them both, actually. This is so unserious.

I wish he was real, so I could know what his beating him up feels like.

He is so #girlslay

I NEED to beat his ass for not taking this seriously.

Also yeah, the person who these were created to contain was an Ondine. The Ondine named Ondine from the Episode 23, which is all about sirens, who are Ondines, is probably not the Ondine that is mentioned in this Ondine story though.

SAME FUCKING QUESTION, SIMONE. I HAVE THE SAME QUESTION.

BUT THE MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION IS WHY IS JORIS ALLOWED TO BE THERE ALONE TO BEGIN WITH??

I really hate him for joking like this, especially when we know what happens next.

I would say "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" but this is too sad to joke about.

Kill him. Please. I hate how he laughs after she says that.

His entire character thing is that he hates not being able to solve issues. He will "It's ok, it can be fixed :)" his way though the most insane things — and it's a strength of his, it allowed him to find Lou and have a relationship together for a while after what happened. Chances are, he wouldn't have survived for this long, had he not employed an insane degree of toxic positivity in his personal life.

But it also makes him... extremely obnoxious at times.

He himself knows that this is Not a good situation, and it's starting to sink in, considering he grows more and more worried with each of these animations. Which is a really cool detail. He SHOULD be having a slow panic attack about this. It is what he deserves.

Anyway, here's the real most important moment of the entire show:

[dumb-hat]

The Twitch

"Just the bonsai." the tiny man had said, the words brushing past a mustache much too large for his tiny face. The absurdity of the situation somehow lent the entire affair extra credence, as if a situation this ridiculous couldn't be made up or imagined; no one would invent a quarrel between two brothers over a 300 year old tree that could fit on a desktop.

"Just the bonsai," Evander had repeated, making sure to match the enunciation of his client as closely as he could, as if that would somehow assuage the man's doubts. "And you don't want me to take it? I mean, if it means that much to you, it'd be the simplest thing to ju—"

"No, absolutely do not take the blasted thing. I don't want it. It was left to my brother, and I won't sully my father's wishes, even if I disagree with them. Just make sure it's there. Make sure he's still taking care of it. Make sure he's fretting over the legacy he didn't even want. Make sure it's sitting there, making him sick with worry that he'll mess it up." The man had waved both the words and Evander off dismissively and decisively. "Make sure he hasn't, I don't know, sold it or something."

That was earlier this evening, before Evander had started what should have been one of his easiest jobs in weeks. Months, really.

It was before he found himself in an empty, dimly lit office, decorated in the gaudiest, bougiest faux-Eastern style in Ul'dah. It was before he found himself actually staring at a 300 year old tree that could fit on a desktop. It was before he felt a tell-tale twitch, consistently tugging at the corner of his lip, which could only be tamed by setting his mouth in a tight, firm line while he tried to talk himself out of doing the thing, and even then that didn't always work.

The twitch had mostly plagued Evander when he was younger, and he found that trying to be a consummate professional thief was the a decent way to keep it at bay. Create a plan, stick to the plan and you don't have time to worry about silly, impish, petty temptations. Of course, the problem with keeping something at bay is that... well, it's at bay, it isn't gone.

Of course, over the past few years, he'd found another way of fighting the twitch:

Malika.

Hell, when she was involved, it wasn't even usually a matter of keeping the twitch at bay. It just... didn't happen.

It didn't have time, usually.

The twitch came from him trying to fight the urge to do the thing—whatever the thing might be at any given moment—so it made sense that it wouldn't show up.

Malika almost never fought that urge.

Malika, almost always, just did the damn thing.

And with silly, impish, petty temptations indulged, there was no twitch to try and wrangle with some grim-set jaw and serious brow.

But Malika wasn't in the gaudy, bougie, Ul'dah office with the faux-Eastern decor, so Evander glared at the damn bonsai, his lips nearly white from the determination he was trying to muster as he recalled the one time they had discussed the art of bonsai. He had said that he thought it was an interesting meditation on resilience and how adversity can shape the mundane into something breathtaking. She had said that she couldn't help but wonder how beautiful those tiny trees might have been if some idiot hadn't wrapped them in wire and trimmed all their limbs to force them into some shape that the tree didn't even want.

He didn't have an answer for that then. He didn't have an answer for that now. Now, all he had was the twitch.

Then, moments later, all he had was a gaudy, bougie and hastily trashed faux-Eastern style Ul'dah office.

Then, later that night, all he had was a tiny tree—finally free of clamps, tension cables and guy-wires, finally able to grow in any damn direction it chose—resting on a shelf in his apartment, which had long become crowded with a collection of stuffed animals and stolen knick-knacks.

(Cough cough @luck-and-larceny cough cough)

[belphegor1982]

I posted the last chapter of this on AO3 just before bed and completely forgot to post it here as well. Typical bird-brained Bel. But here it is now if you wanted to read it and missed it! I’ll ad the AO3 link in a reblog, as usual :o)

Jigsaw Pieces

Chozen, uneasy

Daniel, adrift

Amanda, sleepless

Sam, shaken

Johnny, fixing things

Daniel, not alone

Daniel can hardly believe his eyes.

Seeing Johnny and Chozen side by side, Robby flanked by Miguel and Sam, Anthony behind his sister smiling proudly – it’s just surreal.

Sure, they’re not literally all here; there are a few gaps where students should be if this were a class (like Chris, or Mitch, or Demetri who mentioned something about getting a summer job last time), but even if the group isn’t complete, Daniel’s surprise is.

These past ten minutes have been one hell of a roller-coaster. He can still feel the warmth of Amanda’s hands holding his, the breath that rushed out of him when he stepped into Mr. Miyagi’s room for the first time in eight years, the tightness in his chest that hasn’t really had time to loosen yet. Mr. Miyagi kept his most painful memories in a box, on a cabinet, but at least he was brave enough to open that box from time to time. Even after the burial, even after almost a decade, Daniel has refused to open the door to his bedroom. His own memories of Mr. Miyagi are everywhere – on the wall of his home dojo, in the power and grace of his daughter’s karate, in his own soul – but that empty room is the last, final proof that the man himself is gone forever, and facing this fact for real takes a strength Daniel’s never felt he had. Until ten minutes ago, when Amanda gently guided him in front of that door and said I’m right here. And stood aside silently, her presence both supportive and unobtrusive, while he took in everything – a thousand memories, a thousand reminders of what used to be and can never be again.

The last bonsai Mr. Miyagi was working on has lost much of its original shape, but it’s still alive. Amanda must have come in regularly to water it in the past eight years.

“Is it gonna be okay?” he hears himself ask across thirty-four years while staring anxiously at a different bonsai.

Mr. Miyagi answered calmly then, “Depends. If roots strong, tree survive.”

Between his dogged nurturing and the strength of its roots, the bonsai in question lived, and still thrives to this day. Sometimes Daniel wonders how old it actually is. But then Mr. Miyagi was always good at taking care of lost causes and pulling off miracles.

Mr. Miyagi was also the only one able to defeat both John Kreese and Terry Silver, and easily at that. Over the past week Daniel has sometimes wondered what he would have made of the current situation. He has wished, more than once, for his old mentor to make things right again, or even just to have his back like he never failed to even when Daniel was pretty sure he didn’t deserve this unwavering support. Maybe he would have approved of Daniel’s capitulation – maybe he would have advised Daniel to step off a lot sooner, before kids started to get hurt – maybe he would have urged him to keep fighting. But you can’t ask a dead man what he thinks. You can’t ask a dead man anything. Tugging on a ghost is as useless as trying to catch the wind.

Except…

Mr. Miyagi did leave something of his here, and not just in the mementos left untouched and the warmth of the little house, the wood and the shoji walls. Of all the people standing in front of Daniel in the bright summer sunlight, only two knew him well (Amanda and Sam), three met him in person but only have sparse or superficial memories of him (Chozen, Anthony and Johnny), and the rest only know him from a picture on the wall and second-handed accounts. Yet it feels like he’s here, standing next to Amanda, smiling fondly. Like he never really left.

Daniel is hit by a memory, like a flash, of Mr. Miyagi and him going out to fish the day after the Obon festival. No training, no karate of any kind – just the two of them, a little boat in a secluded Okinawa inlet, and companionable silence in the sun. Not that Daniel would have been up for much more at that point; his fight with Chozen the night before had left him black and blue and utterly drained of energy. The stakes probably had a lot to do with it. Daniel had never had to fight for his life before.

“I forgot to thank you yesterday,” he said at some point, and Mr. Miyagi turned to him, eyebrows raised under his hat.

“For what?”

“Well, you kinda saved my life with that little drum back there. If you hadn’t… You know. I think the outcome would’ve been very different if you hadn’t been there.”

Mr. Miyagi twisting the little handheld drum back and forth had not only reminded Daniel of the eponymous technique. The lone reedy taptaptaptap had grown into a loud clatter as everybody else picked up on it and banged their own drums, a clear show of support that had confused the hell out of Chozen. Daniel, bruised and bloodied and almost out of hope, walking the wire between almost laughing and almost crying, had drawn strength from his last reserves from that sound – and won, somehow.

Mr. Miyagi didn’t reply right away. He adjusted his fishing rod across his knees and nodded.

“Drum not save life, Daniel-san. You down, you pick self up. Drum just remind you… Not alone. Got people in corner. And me.”

And then, just as Daniel’s throat went a little tight, M. Miyagi tilted his head to the side and added with an eh face, “Figure of speech.”

Daniel grinned at that.

“Well, thanks for bein’ in my corner. And, uh – you know I’m in yours, right?”

“Hai.” Mr. Miyagi’s eyes softened. “Miyagi know.”

They’d shared a smile, then gone back to gazing at the sunlight winking on the sea. It had been a good day.

The people standing in Mr. Miyagi’s garden right now could all be holding pellet drums. The two situations are night and day, literally, but the emotions rising in Daniel’s chest are very similar.

Mr. Miyagi may no longer be in his corner, but that doesn’t mean he’s alone – not anymore, like Sam just pointed out.

All the students – plus Amanda – bow as one, like they’re waiting for the lesson to begin, like it hasn’t been almost two months since Miyagi-Do (and Eagle Fang) shut down. Eli, Robby, Abe, Sam, Bert, Miguel, all of them – even Anthony, for the very first time. Sam’s smile is beaming when she straightens up, her eyes very blue.

Daniel looks at Chozen on his left, a silent question – though what he’s asking exactly, he’s not sure. Chozen answers with a determined nod nonetheless. Its meaning is clear: both vow and encouragement. We can do this, all of us. And the thing is, Daniel is starting to believe him.

He hesitates for a half-second before turning to his right and meeting Johnny’s eyes. But the expression in them is familiar, if always surprising to see on the face of his old enemy/rival/frenemy/friend. The last time Daniel saw it, Kreese had just thrown the gauntlet at them, and Johnny cemented their alliance of circumstance with three words – We won’t lose – and a look that had helped quiet down the snarling mess in his chest of fury, fear, and retrospective horror at what he’d almost done. Because if Johnny Lawrence, cold and grim and with the bruises from Kreese’s stranglehold just starting to form around his throat, could stand tall and steady and say “we”, after everything, then perhaps all wasn’t lost.

Johnny doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. His small nod and the look in his eyes speak volumes. And just like that night last December, Daniel relaxes a fraction, with the beginning of a smile this time.

They bow to their students simultaneously, the three senseis, and as Daniel straightens up he can’t suppress a smile that seems to come from somewhere deep in his chest.

And a very distinct feeling of missing pieces, finally falling into place.

______________________

The end! I really hope you enjoyed this little story. I did writing it, even (especially) the parts that hurt :’) Please tell me if you did!

(Also I couldn’t help bringing Mr. Miyagi back a little, if only in flashbacks 💜)

[kendrixtermina]

(hours of saturn)

The time was now 10 p.m., the fourth hour of Saturn on the day of Saturn, the hour most suitable for experiments of hatred, enmity and discord.

These are the dark hours,

the wretched hours,

the pocket hells that won’t tick by

First hour:

It takes a village to make a monster

It takes knives, and serpents, and bat-wings shrouding skulls,

long, sharp-nailed hag’s fingers picking at the last of the flesh.

It takes long lineages of misshapen creatures breeding,

until finally, some critical mass of insect-parts

accumulates inside the genes,

and all flow into one soul as the river reach the seas.

It takes one lilly-white halo-crowned promise

under whose divine sheets throbs the residue of blood.

It takes the sin of the entire populace,

put on the horns of one goat.

It takes a night-dark path made of nothing but knotted dark trees,

the densest old-growth of the soul

It takes sharp hooks and rusty nails,

and gray, engulfing slabs of concrete, closing where once was a path.

It takes whatever it does take to count one’s blessings,

and figure that one’s best bet is to walk straight into the darkness,

and never come back out.

It takes a box with contents so repulsive,

that even man’s ape-like desperation for the bonding

cannot keep me from rejecting its like,

what had been put in here with me.

What pressed against my flesh:

I will not miss you at all.

I would not miss any one of them,

taking turns in their laughter,

mocking, rending endlessly,

picking at the soul with a thousand daily cuts.

Of course they came for me:

I know first from day one I was branded monster

Second hour:

You have caught the attention of something truly evil.

And this is truly where it all began,

but it is only comprehensible in hindsight.

Here lies the space that one always returns to.

Here lies, of my innocence, its grave.

I am no Zeus;

I will not escape him who comes to devour me.

I have no such hope or pretense.

Grand his careless hands do pull at me,

bestially he earts of my gore.

I am in a sense covering my eyes,

so I do not see him chewing at my bits,

no I do not think too hard about the parts forever swallowed,

searing in awareness.

Pain and humiliation.

And fear,

and the truth of insects,

man’s hollow carapace nature

how easily I splattered,

and

the fakeness of all love,

as awful a thing as any,

if this is what he names it.

Therein hangs the unicorm flayed,

inside the butchery,

from broken horn excised the ivory

best not to grow it again,

lest future elephants be yet more targeted for their tusks

best to die easily,

than to endure chained torment still living,

still caught writhing to keep fresh,

to treasure the bits to remove them as will,

after all no one loves cattle more than burger king.

All my existence but for your amusement.

Eternal state of hell, pressed tight on me,

when I was most malleable,

and now I’m hardened and crumbling -!

All the times that I wished I could break through the roof of that house,

leaving it all scattered to rubble in make.

And all the very rot,

that becknows you closer in the coziest of setting,

with the storybook in hand,

the very face of death.

Third hour:

Yet it was still possible to survive in such a place,

just as he proudly proclaimed it.

Living under the shadow of the stone monument of index finger.

To crawln forth malformed under a sun forever eclipsed

to flutter, in your entirety,

into some nondescript silhouette of organs and ornaments,

articulations of a missasembled doll haunting the dark,

void of the light that would have allowed for

any proper orientation of the parts.

Discarded the bits,

heaped the gore up at the bottom of the grand machine

flesh shapen as cut city trees,

as carefully curated bonsais,

pruned and clipped into shape.

It is possible for an insufficient growth to come out an orb rather than a fetus,

with no senses to take in and no limbs with which to act,

It is possible to grasp the pretty porcellain,

even if the heirloom cups have come wrapped in barbed wire.

it is possible to wallpaper over a wide space filled with lamb guts,

and livers,

just enough that it doesn’t spill to total madness.

Or not yet.

It is possible to mold a body into rudiments sticking out

from nothing other than a portal-maw of pain.

It is possible to offer the heart,

excised upon a cushion,

to be spared what would have happened with the rest of the mummy.

The flesh orb lives,

the umbilical cord still attached.

And yes, it’s very grateful for its goddamn iron lung.

Fourth Hour:

I was left a scrambled doll with its clothes ripped and its head plucked off

I was left a trail of blood coming from the cracked skull

of a corpse reduced to bones,

all its juice absorbed into the gilded cage of a luxuriant room.

I was left an assortment of blades poking out of my body;

I was left with a soul made of thorns and sharp spikes.

I was left, undefeated,

as a mutilated corpse pinned on pikes and trees,

tortured to the utmost for what its seared lips refused to confess.

I was left the equivalent of a barren, poisined landscape,

the cracked dry earth,

the oil-slicks and black air,

and worst of all the memory of a paradise that could have been.

I was left with deep red marks,

of where the fetters dug into my flesh,

my back still stooped, though I long have lived in freedom.

Perfectly functional eyes kept blind,

because there was no light in my earliest days of seeing.

A one-time face reduced

to a bloody mass of bandage,

but for the mouth pulled open by means of industrial torment.

The factory of death

I was left wondering,

just how anyone finds closeness when violence is so near to it

Wrath is the desire to repay what you have suffered.

What could be more natural?

What mercy am I to have?

To prove I’ll do it when he won’t?

All things considered,

that sounds alltogether convenient for him.

I think not.

To him, any offense to me was a nothing,

not worth remembering.

I will not do that to myself on top of his own scorn.

I did not betray myself.

This, at least, I keep.

Oh, thank you hatred!

I love you, hatred!

Let me suck its dick or clit

and get me pregnant with its baby

let it give me stretch marks and diabetes

Just imagine, if I did not hate the source of this;

Imagine if I didn’t rage

at the memory of being humiliated and degraded

I imagine if I did not grieve what was done to me.

I could imagine nothing worse.

Thank god for hatred,

and if it’s not god’s work,

then thank Satan!

[adamwatchesmovies]

The Karate Kid Part III (1989)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

The strength of the Karate Kid series lies in its emotional power. You could probably predict how the first one might end but you were so invested in the relationship between Daniel and Mr. Miyagi (Ralph Macchio and Noriyuki “Pat” Morita) that you forgot about all the times you’d seen the story before. Everything that rang true, that was effective in the first film (and the sequel to a certain extent) is present in this third chapter… but none of it works. Cartoonish villains, characters who’ve regressed and a repetitive plot make The Karate Kid Part III feel like a cash grab and nothing else.

Having lost his students and dojo, John Kreese (Martin Kove) visits his best friend, Terry Silver Thomas (Ian Griffith) to tell him he’s giving up on Cobra Kai. Instead, of moving on, however, he and Terry decide to partake in an elaborate revenge scheme. Posing as a new friend and teacher for Daniel, Terry will infiltrate his life so he can tear the boy and his beloved teacher apart.

I’m not sure if Ian Griffith is the best or the worst thing about this movie. One of his first scenes has him chomping on a gargantuan cigar in a hot tub, giving notes to his secretary about how he’s going to hide all of these mega-pollutants from the authorities. Combined with his ponytail, eagerness to jump on the revenge bandwagon and easily-revealed colours, you expect him to be facing off against Captain Planet, not some teenager and an old man trying to make a living selling bonsai trees. He’s ten times as maniacal as any of the bad guys we’ve seen in this series and less subtle than Emperor Palpatine.

On his own, Terry might’ve made the film unintentionally hilarious if it weren’t for Daniel. You’d think that by now the boy would understand a thing or two about Miyagi, that he’d respect him. No. At every instance, Daniel questions Miyagi’s tried-and-true methods, goes against his wishes or tries to do something sneaky behind his back. What’s infuriating is that you know exactly how it will play out. The movie holds no surprises whatsoever. In fact, it choreographs itself in ways that would be clever if they weren’t so transparent. For example, the film begins - once again - by informing us that the relationship we spent the previous movie developing has dissolved. Kumiko is briefly mentioned but never appears. She’s been replaced by Jessica Andrews (Robyn Lively) who quickly informs Daniel that she’ll be moving away in two months. At least the screenplay has learned SOMETHING from these movies. It establishes a way for her not to appear in any subsequent sequels!

Writer Robert Mark Kamen (who didn’t like this premise but whose alternative was even worse) does the bare minimum and director John G. Avildsen does not attempt to turn this pile of straw into gold. The villain’s plan involves sending his cronies to commit vandalism, theft, and attempted murder but the police are briefly mentioned once and then never again. This plot isn’t concerned with what would actually happen. It’s just going through the motions so we can get to the tournament at the end of the movie and watch Daniel beat the odds AGAIN. The Karate Kid Part III isn’t merely a disappointment, it’s a waste of time. (March 10, 2022)

[judycoyleart]

Funfact I did this for my bestie who I had a massive ass crush on B) too bad we don't talk anymore lol

[leewriting]

Carpool- those unspoken weeks

A view into what happened in the time you and Yoongi weren’t speaking and what happened when Yoongi found out the truth about what had happened to you.

This is set in my story Carpool, so please read that first for context. 

Which you can find here- Carpool

I hope you all enjoy this little piece, of sweet and protective carpool Yoongi. A touch into his mind.

Please let me know what you think, I wrote this in a frenzy just now so enjoy!❤️

Reader x Yoongi

College Au.

Warning: mentions of sexual assault.

Yoongi’s POV

He hears your door close again. He doesn’t know when he started being able to distinguish your door from others. But the squeak of the hinges and the way it scrapes over your doormat gives away that it’s yours. 

He sighs. You haven’t spoken to him since that night and he has barely spoken to anyone because of it. He knows he fucked up, and the first thing he wanted to do the morning after was knock on your door and apologise. But Namjoon caught him before he could leave, and sat him down. He gave him a whole speech about how he broke your trust and why he needs to give you space and allow you to come to him. He wanted to protest but he couldn’t get the look on your face while you screamed at him out of his head. 

You’ve screamed at him before and usually, he found it funny and a bit annoying, but that night your screams weren’t either of the two. You looked so broken and all he wanted to do was help put you back together again. Clearly, you felt he wasn’t adequate for the job, and the worst part is he might be one of the reasons for that broken look on your face.

 He groans at the thought. Namjoon doesn’t even look up from his spot, the spray bottle in his hand doesn’t stall in its spraying of the bonsai tree, Namjoon’s new second favourite plant. Namjoon stopped asking what was wrong a week ago. He was always met with the same answer anyway. So he keeps quiet and lets the older man beat himself up in peace. 

Your door opens again and it takes all self-restraint Yoongi has not to open his door, instead, he does what he’s been doing every time you walk past. He gets up and goes to his room. Missing the worried gaze  Namjoon follows him with.

Where are you going? Are you okay? The thoughts taunt him as he sits down and works. He hates working from home, but he can’t go back to the studio. He can barely go to the café. Everywhere he goes there is the memory of you. Your face that night in his studio swims before his eyes every time he sets foot there, your laughter rings in his ears when he enters the café, and even driving past that tree on the side of the road makes his heartache. 

He wishes he could say that night is when he realised his feelings, but it wasn’t. He realised them in the studio, the darkness was electrifying, your body was so close and your lips were so tempting. But he restrained himself then because you were drunk, and since then he has been pushing the feelings down. He refused to acknowledge the way he reveled in the way your walls came down when you let him in that day in the rain.

No instead he fucked around and tried to drown himself in other people, but every time he kissed someone all he could imagine was you. Your lips on his, your body underneath him and it made him sick. 

He reads over another line of the new song. When had it become about you? He doesn’t know.  

You invaded every aspect of his being since he met you in the hallway. He had waited for your call back then and when the fighting started you became a constant in his life. He really hated you, he knows that but even then the fact that he knew you would be back brought him comfort because he could count on it. The deal only enforced that closeness and now. Now you’re gone, and it’s his fault.

At one point he would have reveled in it but he can’t. Not only because of the way it ended. No, because he knows he broke your trust, something he built up over the weeks you were forced into each other's company, and he broke it so easily.

Footsteps and voices invade his pity party. 

“Jungkook you can’t tell him.” Jimin sounds anxious as he speaks.

“He needs to know it wasn’t just his fault.” comes the youngest’s reply. “He’s been hating himself so much.”

‘’Not only that but he needs to know what happened to her.” Hobi’s voice joins the mix. Yoongi is surprised he is here, he was only suppose to come over after his shift. 

“Wait what’s happening?” Namjoon quiets the mumbled arguing. 

“Hyung,” Jungkook speaks finally. Yoongi guesses there was a conversation he missed between the other three.

“There are accusations against the football captain.” Jungkook continues and Yoongi frowns, why is that important?

“What accusations?” Namjoon asks calmly waiting for an explanation. There is silence for a while until Jimin finally breaks it

“Sexual assault ones Hyung.” Yoongi freezes. His body runs cold and hot at the same time. He stares at the ground. He can’t hear anything further. Was that what happened? He can’t stand to sit anymore, he rushes out of his room. 

Jimin and Jungkook stare at him but Hobi is looking at him in pity, and Namjoon is staring in shock, his calm composure faded away.

“What did you say?” Yoongi asks, his words strained. He doesn’t know if he really wants them to repeat the words but he needs to know. 

“We think he tried something that night with Y/n,” Jungkook whispers finally and Yoongi spirals.

That's why you were so broken. That's why you had those bruises. Fuck that’s why you came home early and that’s why you tried calling him. He feels disgusted with himself, here he was moping around because he broke your trust, and you have been dealing with this. 

“Yoongi say something please,” Hobi says, looking worriedly at the older man who has been standing still for far too long. 

“I am going to kill him,” Yoongi growls out, everyone looks at him shocked. “ I am going to fucking kill him!” he shouts, any reserve he may have had is gone. He is going to track this fucker down and smash his face in with his bare hands.

“Hyung please just calm down,” Jimin says, approaching Yoongi, he’s never seen him like this, none of them have. 

“Calm down?” Yoongi shouts. “Calm down when he did something like that to her!” 

He stomps forward. “ To Y/n!” He is trembling with rage. “To my Y/n!” He misses the way Jungkook and Namjoon look at each other.

He races to the door and grabs his jacket, already reaching for his keys on the hook, but it’s not there. 

“Where are my keys?” He tries to say it calmly, and everyone in the room exchange looks. 

“Yoongi you can’t drive in this state.” Hobi tries to reason with him. “Why don’t we just sit down for a moment.” 

“No.” Yoongi glares at his friend. 

“Yoongi, please try to be rational.” Namjoon stands up. “ What happened was awful but you can’t just storm out here and attack him.”

“Like hell, I can’t,” Yoongi replies, looking around the room frenzied before he spots the keys on the table beside the bonsai. 

As soon as his eyes land on it, Namjoon’s does too and they both lunge for it. Namjoon being closer gets them first. 

“Joon gives me the keys,” Yoongi says through clenched teeth. But the taller man holds the keys tighter. “Namjoon give me my fucking  keys,” Yoongi demands his chest heaving. 

“ Yoongi..” Namjoon tries but he’s cut off.

“No, you can’t say anything. You didn’t see her that night, tell him Jungkook, tell him how absolutely fucking scared she was.” Yoongi gestures to Jungkook but doesn’t wait for an answer. “She had to deal with this alone, and I couldn’t be there because you told me to give her space. She didn’t need fucking space, she needed me.” Yoongi steps closer to Namjoon, taking his bonsai off the table.

“Hyung,” Namjoon warns but Yoongi is having none of it.  

“Give me my keys or I will smash this.” He threatens. “ Give it to me!” Namjoon doesn’t relent. 

“Smash it, I don’t care.” Yoongi stares at him.

“That’s just it isn’t it, you don’t fucking care!” Yoongi shouts, holding back tears of rage. “You always act so aloof, you never care about anything, you call Y/n your friend but you don’t give a shit, because if you do you’d give me those keys so I can try to fix this.” 

“You’re not going to fix anything by murdering someone.” Namjoon says. 

“Then let me find her.” The fight is gone from him, he just wants to find you and pour his heart out. 

Namjoon surveys him for a moment before stretching his hand out, the keys in his palm. 

“Namjoon,” Hobi says but he is cut off by the younger ones shaking their heads. 

“Go find her.” Namjoon says and with that Yoongi takes his keys, trading them for the bonsai in his hands. 

Yoongi nods and disappears through the door. 

He runs for his car still in his slippers that get drenched in the snow immediately, but he couldn’t care less right now, he just has to find you. 

It’s just past five, you would be going to the library to study by now. Strange how he knows your schedule so well, but he guesses that’s what happens when you drive someone around for so long.

His car takes a second to start, standing out in the cold for so long but when it finally does he reverses and drives off in record time.

Someone hurt you. He takes a turn hard. 

He not only broke your trust but he left you alone after something like that. He should have tried harder. No, he shouldn’t have been an idiot. If he had only confessed earlier. If he hadn’t pushed his feelings down if he had gone to that party like everyone was telling him to that night. If he had found you, if he had picked up his phone, all of this could maybe have been prevented. He was such an idiot and he hated himself. 

He takes another turn and speeds up if he had just kissed you while parked under that tree when he wanted to if he had just done something, fucking anything maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

He curses and drives even faster, rounding the last corner. His tires slip, and before he can do anything that big old tree is approaching him too fast, he tries to jerk his steering wheel but it’s too late, he hits the tree, the airbag expands and he can feel the pain travel up his arm and blossom into his chest. 

The last thing he remembers thinking is how much he misses you.

.

.

.

The hospital bed is really uncomfortable, he barely gets any sleep, and the three men arguing in hushed voices are not helping. It also doesn’t help that they are talking about you.

You still haven’t come to see him. The first thing he asked when he woke up here is where you were. No one could give him an answer. They all just stared at him in pity. 

He knows they have been trying to reach you and if his phone hadn’t been smashed in the accident he would have called you himself. He tried to, on all of their phones but you never picked up. 

Is that how little you want to do with him? You are even ignoring your shared friends. Namjoon said he was going to finally get you today after seeing Yoongi’s dejected face when they once again had to tell him you were still ignoring them. Hell, he would have gone and found you himself if he wasn’t stuck here for “observation”.  

The whispers in the room stop and he frowns slightly until he hears your voice. You’re here. It takes everything in him to not open his eyes, but he wants to hear what you say to the others. Too scared that you’ll tell them all to fuck off. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to take it, so he pretends to be asleep.

He listens to you, you sound so tired, he just wants to hug you, and when you ask them if he knows about what happened he can hear the slight fear in your voice. Do you think he will judge you? You know he would never do that don’t you? 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity Namjoon tells everyone to leave, he has to remember to thank him later. 

You come to sit next to him and he hears your whispered words. Not being able to take it anymore he finally “wakes up” saying the first thing that comes to mind. 

“You’re wrong.” How ironic. 

The banter and teasing come so naturally but he knows he needs to get this weight off of his chest so when he sees the opportunity he takes it. 

“ Y/n,” He sits up, the pain in his chest shooting into life, protesting but he pushes through it.

 “Hmm?” You hum showing him you’re listening. 

“I’m sorry,” He holds onto your hand tighter as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold onto you. 

“For what?” What do you mean “for what” surely you know? But he continues, maybe you just want to hear him say it.

“About a lot of things really.” He looks down at your hands, they’re so soft and he can’t imagine why he hasn’t been holding your hand the whole time you've known each other. “ But mostly I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me to be. I hate myself for not picking up your call that night. an above all else I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Every word is true and he looks at you, he begs you for the forgiveness he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“It’s okay,” You say after a moment of silence and he breathes out, but you look away from him. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”  He is shocked of course he has something to be sorry for, he has a lot to be sorry for, some things you don’t even know about. 

“ No, I do.” He swings his legs off of the bed so that he is sitting in front of you. The position reminds him vaguely of the one you were in, in his studio, when he so badly wanted to kiss you. He still remembers the emotions, the intense want to hold you close, and he feels it now as well. 

“Yoongi maybe you should lie down.” He almost wants to laugh at that, he really doesn’t care about laying down right now.

“ You know I really hated you.” You stop and stare at him. Okay, maybe not the best way to start his confession.

“What?” He flinches a bit at you, but he continues on.

“ Yeah I did, you were a pain in my ass, always storming into my apartment and fighting with me,” He continues, the words bubbling out and he for once doesn’t try to stop them. He looks away from you though, not being able to look you in the eye just yet, he needs to get his off his chest, and if he looks at you he knows he’ll falter.

“ And when Namjoon purposed this carpool thing I accepted because I was sure I could get you to give up, and never have to see you again. And you tried the same thing. I cursed you every time I had to go drop you off at your stupid classes or when you called me away from something important, I hated you even more.” You huff and cross your arms. He wants to stop and try again, but he started now, no backing out so he takes a breath in and goes on. 

“ But then,” He’s been staring off into the distance but now he meets your eyes. “Something changed. I don’t know how, I can’t pinpoint when it happened but suddenly calling you to come and get me wasn’t purely because I wanted to irritate you. Suddenly it was a way to see you. Of course, I didn’t admit this to myself at the time.” He shakes his head, thinking again how stupid he was. You're frozen under his gaze and he almost smirks, but there is no time to enjoy the way you blush under his stare. 

“I was stupid, I tried even harder to ignore you, and to fight you, to hate you. But you made it so hard.” He takes your hand again, intertwining your fingers this time. “ I kept trying to find the things that I used to despise you for, but it got harder and harder to find them. I found myself being jealous of the rest of the boys.” You quirk your eyebrow up at this, not understanding. “I was jealous about how easily you talked to them, I wanted you to tell all your stories to me too, I wanted you to be as casually touchy with me too, fall into my lap when you laugh too hard.” He can still feel the burning jealousy he had to press down whenever he saw the way you so easily interacted with his friends. The way Jungkook and Tae so easily touched you and you let them, the way you always laughed at Jin’s jokes and thanked Hobi with a kiss on the cheek when he sleepily made you your coffee. The way you always had these long conversations with Namjoon and the way you always hug Jungkook so tightly. He hated them for that he always thought it was because they were nice to you when you were the bane of his existence, if only he knew the real reason.

You want to say something but he holds up a finger to stop you. He can't stop now or else he’ll never get the words out.

“ I tried to drown those thoughts out of my brain, but the more I learned about you the harder it became.” He is leaning in closer to you. “ and I do know you, y/n. I know you hate your tennis talent because your parents made you play it. I know you prefer exactly two and a half marshmallows in your hot chocolate and that you write every poem by hand because it feels more authentic to you. I know that when you're sick you become a huge baby and that you like the colour purple because you couldn’t decide between blue and pink when you were younger.” he smiles when he thinks of all the ways he’s come to know you and it makes his heart warm.

He is just a few centimeters away from you now, your noses almost touching. Your eyes flicker down to his mouth, and he smirks.

“I have been a fool Y/n,” he whispers the words, afraid to say them too loud. “but god I can’t keep kissing other people pretending that it’s you.”

He smashes his lips onto yours, and he groans, your lips feel so soft and his imagination didn’t do them or you justice. He wants to pull away but you tangle your hands into his hair, pulling him closer. He smiles you really want him as much as he wants you, he pulls you onto his lap, but he flinches, pulling away, his brain screaming at him not to do so,  but the pain in his ribs is flaring up again.

You stare at him in concern and he chuckles, taking the opportunity to survey your face, he strokes your cheek. God, you are so beautiful, he can’t say that he ever forgot that, he hadn’t, you were one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen and he thought that since that day he met you. He couldn’t even stop himself from catching you when you fell then. 

He doesn’t give you time to speak before he is pulling you down and kissing you again, a soft kiss. You reposition yourself, straddling him. 

You keep kissing him until you’re both out of air and even then when you pull away it is only a few centimeters. He grins widely, his wild look reflecting on your face. 

“ I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just…” He feels bad that he just sprung a kiss on you, after what you went through he should have asked for consent.

To his surprise, you cut him off by placing a soft, quick kiss on his mouth. 

“ I think you’ve apologised enough for one day.” You smile and he kisses the tip of your nose, unable to stop himself.

“You know you stole my speech,” You say, and he frowns. “ I was going to say the same but you had to go first didn’t you?” 

“Is not, you’re lying.” He scoffs, once again he revels in the way this banter comes so easily now without any real menace behind it.

“ I am not lying.” You gasp.

“ You are.” He smiles.

“Is not.” 

“Is too.” 

“You’re an idiot.” You declare, pushing him on his non-hurt shoulder, he’s thankful that you remembered, but now when you call him an idiot he feels like he should add one more thing.

“Yeah,” he nods in agreement. “But now I’m your idiot.” He grins, pulling you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he stares up at you, your face brimming with happiness and he is so proud to say he is the one who put it here.

“Unfortunately.” You smile, leaning down. 

“Hey, that’s mean.” He pouts and he takes note of the way you seem to melt a bit. He smirks internally, he’ll have to remember that. 

“ O hush and kiss me.” You say leaning down closer. There is nothing that be would rather do than obey you right now.

“With pleasure.” He smiles again before pressing his lips against yours. You run your fingers through his slightly tangled hair. You lightly pull and he moans, causing you to chuckle into his mouth. He feels like he’ll never be able to get enough of you.

He pulls away, your noses touching, smiling goofily.  You look perfect, your eyes are sparkling and your cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, your lips puffy, he thinks he’ll keep kissing you forever to be able to see this look on your face every time.

“O my god.” You both look to the door, where Jungkook is standing with his jaw hanging open, before he groans. 

“Fuck, I owe Namjoon 40 bucks.” 

You and Yoongi look at each other a moment before you both burst out laughing. 

Yoongi guess Namjoon can thank him for that, but right now he couldn’t care less about Namjoon or anyone else for that matter, because he finally has you, and he would be damned if he is ever going to let you go again.

I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know your thoughts. Love you guys!❤️

[sonder-paradise]

◊ A Kitsune's Agenda

◊ Part II of Just One Wish

◊ Genre: Fluff, Kitsune AU, Slight Yandere Themes

◊ Pairing: Kitsune!Osamu Dazai x GN!Reader

◊ Word Count: 1.4k

◊ Art Creds: @kusaobnst on twt

Travelling to that kitsune shrine was perhaps the smartest idea you had cultivated in some time. There was a certain charm to life that now toyed with you shortly after whispering your wish to the kitsune that supposedly resided there.

The wind teased you more often, grazing your cheeks and fluttering your work to the ground with a zephyr of such mischief you had to believe that perhaps it was more than just your imagination.

You found things much easier. Loose papers and lost ink brushes seemingly materialized out of thin air along with those strangely beautiful red and yellow petals dancing beside them. And, of course, you didn’t pretend not to see the increase of foxes in the area.

Then again, maybe it was just one singular fox. You couldn’t really tell from the way it disappeared before you could properly see it.But you never failed to spot one from the corner of your eye. His pretty white coat shone so extravagantly in the moonlight of a summer’s evening, or the sunny rays of an autumnal afternoon.

“I think I’m being haunted,” you stated firmly, not taking your eyes off the notes you were currently going over.

“And what makes you think that?” Fukuzawa murmured, lifting his head up and away from the bonsai tree he was currently attending to.

“I always feel as though I’m being watched, my items keep reappearing when I lose them, and there always seem to be foxes around me.”

Your mentor thought long and hard for a moment, his eyes closed as he took in your words with care. Upon coming up with an answer, he faced you with deep thought. “Perhaps it’s due to the kitsune shrine in the area. You do visit and clean it often.”

“You think the kami there has taken a liking to me?” The idea of such things being supernatural had crossed your mind before. You didn’t pretend not to notice the number of times you had fallen asleep whilst working only to find yourself tucked into bed and safe under the covers.

The older man reached over to pat the top of your head gently. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had. You go there at least twice a week.”

You wanted to retort against his words; But finding nothing but the truth, you resigned to the pure facts. The shrine had fulfilled your wish somehow. Life no longer felt lonely and vast. Being there brought a sort of satisfaction that only someone close to you could bring.

“Speaking of which, I believe you have to get going right about now?”

Blinking at the sun dipping towards the west wing of the library, you shot up from your spot, hurriedly stuffing your things and a couple carefully wrapped crab legs into the bag at your side.

“Then I’ll be back later tonight!” With that, Fukuzawa watched your figure disappear out the door and towards that beloved shrine of yours.

A current disturbance in the forest made the fur on Dazai’s tail stand in a growing concern. There was nothing particularly wrong with his domain this evening, but from the increasing murder of crows in the area, he could guess who was on his way.

“Dazai! So that’s where you’ve been hiding!”

The bothersome voice could have only belonged to one kami in this area of Japan and, of course, Dazai had never been a fan of the annoying tengu that only seemed to come down from his mountain domain to complain about Dazai’s shrine.

“Chuuya… To what do I owe the displeasure?” he sighed, a fluffy white ear ticking in annoyance.

“You’ve been neglecting your tasks again. Your shitty forest is invading into my mountain area. I don’t need any more humans stumbling around in the area.”

The black wings behind the redhead’s back fluttered and flailed about as he settled on a nearby branch; arms crossed and disgruntled frown appeared on his face. The small murder of crows to his left and right let out a small cacophony of eerie caws and Dazai merely blinked at his fellow kami.

“I’ve been busy, Chuuya,” he stated plainly.”

“Busy with what? Drinking sake and slacking off?”

Dazai opened his mouth only to shut it again. How could he tell this bothersome tengu about such a precious human and expect to walk away from this conversation unscathed? Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted when he sensed a familiar presence entering the forest.

“Oi, so are you gonna-”

“Shush! They’re here!”

Dazai leaped up from his spot on the opposite branch, his tail once again swaying from side to side. Bouncing from trunk to trunk, he landed just outside of his shrine, next to the red torii that greeted you just outside his shrine.

A rustle of feathers told him that Chuuya had followed, following his line of sight to the new visitor he was receiving. For the hundreds of years Chuuya had known the kitsune spirit, he had never thought a mere human would be the thing that distracted him from his work.

And Chuuya could assume this fact just from the look on Dazai’s face as he watched the mortal being set down the wrapped crab legs and talk to the spirit of that shrine. He would have never guessed that this creature could have made a face like that.

One filled with love and genuine curiosity. The tengu was almost taken aback at the sight. There was a sincere sweetness to the way Dazai held himself. Even the forest had melted into a sort of perfect delicacy that had the trees swaying tenderly in the wind, birds twittering in the sunset’s glow, and the soft golden glow of the lanterns flickering so anxiously and impatiently.

“You’ve fallen for a human?” Chuuya crowed, shoving the kitsune against the red pole of the torii. A fierce gaze in his eyes as he waited for the man’s response.

Dazai didn’t know how else to phrase such a thing. Despite not even speaking to you once, he was utterly and desperately infatuated with you. Even the days he couldn’t visit you would be substituted with a familiar of his own going to check up on you.

So when he opened his mouth, he almost couldn’t admit such a thing to himself either. “I think so… There are too many things about them to even list, but I think I love them.”

That growing flame sparked against Chuuya’s eyes as he continued to hold Dazai against the pole. “Did you learn nothing two hundred years ago? Was I not a good enough example of how a relationship between a kami and a human could go?”

“I am not like you. You and I both know that, Chuuya.”

“You better get back to your shitty duties as a spirit or you’ll end up exactly how I did. You think I wanna be on that fucking mountain? Listen to me for once and don’t get closer to that human.”

Without waiting for Dazai’s reply, the angered tengu had disappeared into the setting sun’s darkening sky. Dazai rubbed his shoulder uneasily, thinking over Chuuya’s words with a silent grief. Make no mistake, he knew the dangers of loving a human.

But as he turned his gaze towards your figure at the shrine, smiling and conversing about your day as if he hadn’t been with you for half of it, his heart ached to see that grin directed towards himself.

How he longed to hear his name on your tongue, run his hands along your arm until his fingers intertwined beautifully with yours, or even simply learn how to kiss you in the way you would love. If loving you was his poison, he would have died from the number of toxins you graced him with.

Longing and desire could only surround and fulfill the hopes and dreams of a man, much less a kitsune, for so long. Dazai was selfish about such things. Especially when he purposefully made sure the others around you expressed a romantic interest towards you.

His tail swayed happily in remembrance of all the times he had driven off his competition to ensure only you could be his. Dazai wanted to give you the moon and all the wishes you desired, so how could he simply sit and listen to the words of a tengu whose very own love was ruined and life punished?

Yes, Dazai would have gladly taken your poison every time he invisibly greeted you at night to tuck you into bed.

Now the question of making you his was the next item on this kitsune’s agenda.

Taglist: @paradise-creator @todorokichills @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @internetkilledtheroxstar @nameless-shrimp @whorefordazai @candied-undead @jadegreenimmortality @requiem626k @missrown @rirk-ke @kiyokoxd @jessbeinme15 @starglow-xx @shadyteacup @colourless-cora @scul-pted @kuraxmasha @yochicoz @pompompurin1028 @trashykawahq @kyuus4ku @axsuhii-axsuhii @foolishestchildofchilds @fyodorscello @kur0-kawa @ravenina14 @spoofybun @dazaiaiko @k4a @chuuyasboots @ruthdied @allisonlol @questioningmyownexistence @sebtomm @nullified-kiss @finniesblog @cuteflowers-101 @duckiichan @boombboi @scarletta-ruan @skgch @daz8i

[jinkx-monsoon-season]

So, if there is a day for posting dad jokes, it’s today, so.

This is a tribute to the CK’s favourite relationship dynamic and source of drama, which is not even a triangle, but a conga line of people chasing without success after somebody they consider a cooler person. I had to make this rewrite of my favourite dad joke, so behold.

---

Nate and Bert are playing soccer near an apartment building, and their ball shatters the window. A caretaker runs out with a broomstick and starts chasing them down the street.

Bert is running away and thinking: “Holy crap, how is this my life? Playing soccer in the slums, running for my life from an angry man with a broomstick. I wish I were Hawk, the coolest karate fighter ever. I’d be at the Cobra Kai dojo now, punching the punching bags and kicking bonsai trees off the poles, and be so cool.

Meanwhile, at the Cobra Kai dojo, the coolest karate fighter Hawk is punching the punching bags and kicking bonsai trees off the poles. He’s kicking a bonsai tree and thinking: “Holy crap, how is this my life? Punching bags are stinky, and stupid bonsais are giving me splinters. I wish I were my personal hero Miguel Diaz. I’d be at Golf n Stuff right now, hugging octopi plushies with my girlfriend and playing mini golf, and everyone would know that I’m super badass all the same.”

Meanwhile, at Golf n Stuff, Hawk’s personal hero Miguel Diaz is hugging an octopus plushie with his girlfriend. Then, he’s hitting the golf ball, and thinking: “Holy crap, how is this my life? Stupid plushies, stupid minigolf. I wish I were Sensei Johnny Lawrence. I’d be the best sensei in the world, I’d drink beer and headbutt furniture.”

The best sensei Johnny Lawrence is drinking and headbutting furniture, but he’s not happy with himself either, and wishes he were a successful businessman and a fellow twice all-valley champ Daniel LaRusso. Likewise, Daniel Larusso is not happy with his life, and he’s thinking: “Holy crap, if only I were the wisest teacher and the most balanced person in the world Mr Miyagi.”

Meanwhile, the wisest teacher and the most balanced person in the world Mr Miyagi is running down the street chasing some little shit who broke his window, and thinking: “Holy crap! I catch that little shit, I kill that little shit.”  

[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Ch 7

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: You try to smooth relations between you and Detective Anderson, made difficult when the human wants nothing to do with you.

AO3

Story banner by @uh-kitty-got-wet​

You allowed the glass door to swing quietly shut behind you, smoothing your tie as you followed at a polite distance on the detective’s heels. The hunch of his shoulders was interpreted by your social module as a sign of discomfort and tension.

You were given several options on how to approach the human, even one suggesting taking several minutes before engaging him in conversation, but your mission prompt wouldn’t allow you to have that flexibility.

[EARN DET. ANDERSON’S TRUST]

Standing directly next to his desk, you appraised the human’s belongings, noting all of the items you had scanned upon your arrival. The human had an assortment of items, including an ancient mp3 player [Zune, manufactured 2008], a work cell phone, a bonsai tree [Japanese maple, dying], and several personal photos printed out and taped to his display board.

They were of different places and at different times, going by the various types of clothing, but they consisted of mostly the same subjects. Three men wearing nearly identical faces that only android software could differentiate between, and an older man catalogued as Captain Hank Anderson. He was marked as the adoptive father of the triplets.

Even though you had done it several times before, you scanned the detective’s features. His identifying information displayed on your HUD, further settling in your memory banks each time you did it.

DET. ANDERSON, CONNOR

Born: 08/15/2008 // Police Detective

Criminal record: [Sealed Juvenile Records]

You blinked and the identifying information disappeared, leaving you to fully observe the detective where he sat, hunched over his terminal with a scowl on his face.

“I know the situation is not ideal,” you began in your most diplomatic tone, “but I look forward to working with a law enforcement officer of your caliber."

The human gave no indication he heard you, but his heart rate increased by a small percentage, and his fingers pressed down on his flat keyboard in a way that was counteractive to typing.

You were prompted with more dialogue options, and once again went with the friendliest approach.

“It seems we will be working together for some time, so perhaps it would be beneficial to get to know one another.”

The human remained reticent, glaring at the terminal screen as if it were angering him personally. The detective also narrowed his eyes, indicating an intense dislike, but remained silent on the state of his emotions.

Your gaze drifted down to the empty mug of coffee next to the withering bonsai tree.

[ESTABLISH RAPPORT WITH DET. ANDERSON]

“What are you doing?”

You tilted your head, freezing your motor functions when the question was asked, putting you in the position of half-bending over the detective’s desk. You had blocked his terminal with your body as you attempted to reach his coffee cup, and he now stared at you from inches away with a wide, startled expression.

“Sorry, Detective. I thought you might like a refill.”

You had received a helpful notification that caffeine withdrawal can result in headache and irritation, both of which you had identified in the detective’s tense expression.

“Okay, fine, could you just—“ He released a puff of air, fluttering the loose lock of hair that strategically fell to the side of your face. “—hurry up so you’re not in my goddamn lap?”

You weren’t in his lap, or even in the relative vicinity of his groin. It would have been more accurate to say you were closest to his face and hands, the latter of which had been rapidly retracted when the front of your chassis had brushed against them.

You also noted the rise in temperature of his skin, the pink hue across his cheeks, and the dilation of his pupils—all indications of arousal and attraction. These were common occurrences with your model design, and you dismissed the pop-up that asked if you wished to run the sexual subroutine. Such programs were low priority and only used as a last result if the detective were uncooperative with the investigation.

“Sorry, Detective,” you repeated, forming your lips into the approximation of a warm smile. “I’ll return shortly.”

You carefully picked up the mug and moved into a standing position, and the detective released a long exhale, avoiding meeting your eye as he turned back to his terminal.

Satisfied in your endeavor, you crossed the short distance to the station breakroom.

Two humans resided inside, leaning against an elevated circular table as they spoke. Both turned their heads to stare, and you took the opportunity to scan them.

CPL. LEE, HELEN

Born: 05/19/2005 // Police Corporal

Criminal record: None

 LT. ANDERSON, COLIN

Born: 08/15/2008 // Police Lieutenant

Criminal record: [Expunged Juvenile Records]

You blinked away the notifications and gave them a non-threatening smile before turning to the coffee machine. It was a large unit, meant for offices with frequent foot traffic, and a brief scan indicated it was overdue for a cleaning.

You weighed the negatives against the benefits of obtaining a beverage from this machine, and determined it was worth the possible contamination risk.

Placing the mug underneath the drip dispenser, you pushed the appropriate buttons after determining the detective’s preferred blend with a quick swipe of your fingers to the interior of the cup and placing them on your tongue.

There was a noise from behind, a slight huff of air and the soft pad of rubber soles against linoleum. One pair vacated the breakroom, and the other approached and stopped at your back.

“Connor done having his temper tantrum yet?”

You turned to face the lieutenant, examining his features and finding open curiosity. He stayed a polite distance away, unlike earlier, when he had stood so close that you had been forced to take a seat at the detective’s desk.

You wondered now if you should have tolerated the lieutenant’s close proximity, since occupying the detective’s chair had seemed to upset him.

“Must be bad if he’s already sent you to fetch his coffee,” he added with a nod to the mug sitting on the drainage tray. “Usually, he waits a day or two before terrorizing the rookies.”

“I volunteered,” you hurried to say, not wanting a ranking officer to get the wrong idea about the detective. “I believe it will be an appropriate icebreaker for our new partnership.”

“That so? Pretty sophisticated for an android, and terribly hopeful.” He canted his head to the side. “You got some kind of human instruction manual inside that processor of yours?”

The lieutenant dropped his gaze down your body, lingering in a way it had done many times before. The evidence of his attraction was even more obvious than the detective’s, but your sexual subroutines had never been activated by his interest before. You were assigned to Det. Anderson’s charge, and therefore, it would serve no purpose to offer your additional features to the lieutenant.

“In essence,” you answered, passive but friendly enough not to antagonize. “My human relations program assists in easing the interaction between CyberLife androids and humans.”

“I see.”

He moved closer, face neutral but his eyes highly observant. He reached out and took your tie, tugging it upwards. The tie clip stopped him from lifting it far, but the lieutenant seemed satisfied with letting the fabric run through his fingers.

“What else can your human relations program do?”

The tone of his question was easy enough to decipher, your program indicating the query was of a sexual nature.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that, Lieutenant,” you said. “Only Detective Anderson has access to my specialized subroutines.”

The fingers threading your tie went still. The open curiosity vanished from the lieutenant’s face, replaced by a calculating appraisal.

“Well, then. My brother’s a lucky guy.”

His lips pulled into a languid smile that didn’t match the tightness around his eyes.

You carefully pulled your tie from his lax fingers, once again giving him a non-threatening expression.

“The coffee’s done brewing. I must get back to the detective now.”

Turning back to the coffee machine, you kept a significant number of your processors focused on the sound of Lt. Anderson’s heartbeat and breathing, even sampling the micro sensors on your skin.

He remained at a close distance, though by the time you turned around with mug in hand, all you could see of him was his retreating back as he went around the corner down the hallway. From your downloaded schematics of the building, you knew the most likely route he was taking was either to the unisex bathrooms or the station gym.

Your statistical readouts stated the chance the lieutenant would try to engage in sexual activity with you at some point was at approximately 35.2%, and you tasked your processors with running the probability in the background. It was important that erratic human behavior didn’t interfere with your investigation.

“Have a nice chat with my brother?” the detective asked, tone flat as he stared at his monitor.

You filed away possible tension between the two siblings to observe further. You placed the mug next to his keyboard, this time on the side nearest you so you would not lean over and agitate the human again.

“It was informative,” you simply said, straightening into a standing position once more.

The detective gave a huff through his nose and muttered, “I’ll bet.” His eyes narrowed, and after seven seconds of glaring at his terminal, he locked on your face in irritation.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” you said, letting a friendly smile appear. “I would like to know where I can access the DPD’s database. I wish to review the case files.”

The skin around the human’s nose crinkled. He seemed to hold some kind of internal conflict before he sighed and indicated the desk connected with his own.

“Belonged to my last partner. You can use it. For now.” He emphasized the words, as if you had possibly forgotten the temporary nature of your partnership.

“Thank you,” you said with a small nod. The detective rolled his eyes and turned back to his terminal, seemingly already having forgotten you.

You knew he hadn’t. Every observant sensor of your body informed you of his continued wariness, even while his eyes were mostly focused on the glass screen in front of him, he was constantly tuned to your presence.

By the time you had sat down in the chair of the empty desk, you had already pulled up in the DPD database to discover what had become of the detective’s last partner.

Sheila Pernell, also a detective, had transferred to another precinct months earlier, citing the difficult nature of working with Anderson and his unpleasant personality. The language she had used had been colorful and extremely unprofessional.

You made another note in your background processes: Detective Connor Anderson displays hostility toward work partners and colleagues. Difficult to connect with others on an interpersonal level. Approach and adapt to antisocial tendencies as needed.

You turned toward the terminal and placed the fingers of your right hand on the keyboard, allowing your synthetic skin to pull make to interface with the device. Connecting to the network and pulling up the cases assigned to Det. Anderson, you downloaded all 243 into your memory bank.

Hoping to prompt a conversation with the detective, you turned toward him from your chair, slightly tilting your head as you analyzed his tense posture. It hadn’t relaxed at all within the past two minutes since your last interaction.

“There are two hundred and forty-three cases dating back to February of this year, many of them originating in Detroit. An AX400 abducted a young girl from her home last night. I thought that might be a good place to start. It’s flagged as the most urgent case due to it being a crime against a minor.”

Your social module had indicated bringing up the danger to a child would have prompted some kind of response, but the detective remained fixedly silent, leaning the side of his jaw against his propped knuckles.

A more drastic approach was needed. You stood, walked around the joined desk, and approached the detective as he made a noise and turned away.

Coming to a stop directly next to his chair, you adopted the understanding demeanor, hoping to placate the detective’s agitation.

“I understand this isn’t an ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps it would be best to set aside your personal issues, and—“

“Excuse me?” the detective snapped, glaring at you out of the side of his eye. “Were you just about to suggest how I do my job? Because if so, I advise you to shut the hell up. You’re not my boss, and you’re definitely not my partner, so perhaps it would be best if you fucked off and didn’t come back.”

He turned away again and picked up his tablet as he pretended you were no longer standing there.

You plucked the device out of his hand, ignored the surprised noise he made, and placed your other palm between his shoulder blades to establish a physical connection he couldn’t ignore.

“I’m investigating these cases whether you like it or not, Detective.” You leaned closer, speaking directly next to his ear so as not to be overheard. “If you continue to refuse to cooperate, then I’ll find someone else who will be more amenable to my presence.”

For the span of two seconds, the detective remained completely frozen. And then he abruptly stood, grabbed you by the jacket, and swung you around. Your back slammed against the glass partition with a solid thud.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he growled, inches from your face. “I don’t care how many Barbie dolls CyberLife sends to the station. If you keep mouthing off to me, I’ll shoot you myself and throw you in the dumpster. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly,” you calmly answered, which served to only agitate the detective further.

His brows creased as his hands tightened around the edges of your jacket. The human was stronger than his wiry frame gave him credit for as he managed to hold you between himself and the glass, your toes brushing the ground but unable to find purchase.

You remained silent, returning his glare with a bland, pleasant expression despite the discomfort traveling your circuits. If the detective was going to continue to be a problem, you would need to report his behavior, and that might further delay the investigation.

Trying to adapt to his psychology was proving fruitless, and it was clear you had underestimated just how socially challenged he was. Perhaps seeking a new partner was the right course of action after all.

Elijah had stated that if the detective became too much of an issue, his brother would be a suitable replacement. But when you thought of the lieutenant, the idea of working with the human was…

Unpleasant.

You studied the human’s face, searching those dark brown eyes, but found no acceptance there. You were going to have to work harder to—

“Detective, uh… sorry to bother you…”

At the sound of the timid voice, the detective released your jacket and allowed you to stand on firm ground. He didn’t turn to look at the officer standing behind him, however, and continued to level a glare at you, effectively penning you in so you couldn’t step around him.

“What is it, Ralph.”

“It’s about the AX400? The one who kidnapped the little girl? Someone just called in on the APB, said they saw it in the Ravendale district.” He paused, wide hazel eyes darting between you and the detective’s rigid back. “If you need me to bring this to the lieutenant—“

“I’ll handle it,” he said, the heated glare finally pulled off you when he turned and walked away.

Adjusting your jacket of its newly acquired wrinkles, you took a moment to process the detective’s unstable and problematic behavior, and quickly followed before the detective left the station without you.

Next Chapter

[metalheddie]

In Full Bloom

summary: Spencer goes to the flower shop 1 (one) time and falls in love somehow.

tw: mention of medication, Diana's care facility, Diana lashing out mention

word count: 3.9k

a/n: Alright y'all!!! It's finally here! My first ever fic :) I apologize if some of it is a bit clunky or awkward... this is my first time writing and posting anything like this. I hope y'all like this as much as I liked writing it! and this is a Spencer x POC!reader :)

It was early Saturday morning when y/n opened her shop. Unlocking the doors and stepping inside. It was raining pretty heavily, too. She closed her pastel pink umbrella and put it in the basket next to the door. She stopped to take a deep breath, she loved the smell of fresh flowers in the morning. She walked towards the back to turn on her fairy lights and low lighting for her plants and put on her pastel apron with embroidery on the trim. She turned the radio on to the oldies station and Etta James’ Stormy Weather was playing,

Don't know why

There's no sun up in the sky

Stormy weather

Since my man and I ain't together

Keeps raining all of the time...

A perfect song for this morning. Singing to herself, she twirled as she moved towards her supplies, she got to work caring for her flowers and miscellaneous plants around her space.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

A few hours later, a light ting of the bell above the door of the flower shop sounded. Y/n hadn’t looked up from the bonsai she was trimming, as she was too immersed in her work to realize someone had walked in. When she finally looked up, she was surprised to see a tall and handsome stranger staring back at her. In that instant, she felt her heart stop for an eternity. He stood there a bit awkwardly as he waited to be helped. Snapping out of the trance she had previously been in, she walked over to the counter where he was standing.

“Hey there! How can I help you today?”

Her face slightly flushed but it wasn’t so noticeable on her tawny brown skin.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?”

Y/n noticed that he says this a bit sheepishly, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be getting flowers for his mom. Or maybe he’s just awkward, who’s to say?

“Sure! Is there anything specific you’d like to say with this bouquet?”

“Um, yes...well I just wanted to let her know that I appreciate her and I love her very much. She hasn't been feeling well recently, so I wanted to do this small thing for her just to let her know I’ll always be here…”

Y/n smiled at that. It was always so nice to see a man value his mom so much. It warms her heart.

“Aww, well I'm so sorry that she hasn’t been feeling well. I think that's so sweet of you to do this for her. I get my mom flowers when she’s not feeling well too” y/n says with a smile.

“So,” she says, clapping her hands together softly, “I think the best flowers to get her would be Carnations, pink of course, and daisies!”

Y/n excitedly moves around the counter and beckons him to follow her. He does this with a small smile, admiring how animated she had become.

“Why those specific flowers?” he asks.

“Well,” Y/n started, “Did you know that Carnations symbolize the love for a mother as well as the phrase 'I will never forget you’ ” The daisies mean innocence, motherhood, and purity. That meaning stems from the old Celtic legend. In Norse mythology, it’s known as Freya’s sacred flower. Freya is the goddess of love, beauty, and fertility, so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” y/n continued excitedly.

The man nodded along in interest, all the while y/n was collecting and arranging the flowers in a lovely bouquet, putting them in a small and tasteful vase. She brought them over to the counter to ring him up, fixing the flowers as she went.

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Spencer’s POV

While on my way to my mom’s care facility, I saw a quaint little flower shop at the corner of the intersection. I decided to stop in and get some flowers for her. She hasn’t been doing well recently… She’s been lashing out at the nurses and is almost always agitated. Hopefully, this small act will remind her of all the love there is in life.

As I pull into the parking lot of the shop I notice the sign, hand-painted with a unique border that reads Fantasy Flower Shoppe. The side of the building is covered with several winding paths of ivy, truly giving it a fairytale cottage feel. The railing up the steps to the entrance has the ivy as well, acting as a guide to the sage green door.

I stepped through the door, mesmerized at the inside of the shop. There were plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling, on wooden tables, in large pots on the ground, and even in a large misty cabinet on the east wall. A small record player radio hybrid was nestled in between a budding avocado tree and a pot of budding bluebells softly playing what I believe to be I’ve Got a Crush on You by Ella Fitzgerald…

I've got a crush on you, sweetie pie

All the day and nighttime, hear me sigh

I’ve never had the least notion

That I could fall with so much emotion…

I looked around the room, searching for someone who could help me, that's when I laid eyes on the most beautiful girl in the world. She had dark, curly hair that fell to her shoulders wrapped in a cream-colored silk bandanna. She wore a cocoa brown dress with a beige long sleeve shirt underneath and an apron with what looks to be hand-embroidered flowers on the hem. I felt as though I was put under her spell as I gazed at her. She hadn’t looked up from her work, being so focused on trimming her bonsai, she hadn’t realized I had walked in.

I let my eyes linger on her a bit longer as I appreciated her focus. She must have felt my eyes on her, for she looked up and met my eyes. I quickly turned away, as to not make her feel uncomfortable, but also to hide the redness rising high on my cheeks. I suddenly realized what I came into the shop for in the first place.

“Hi, um, can you help me find some flowers for- for my mom?” I stuttered out, cursing myself internally for it.

She smiled sweetly and agreed to help me pick out the best flowers for her. She suggested I get Pink Carnations and daisies. I already knew that those would be the best choice, but I loved the sound of her voice. So as an excuse to continue to listen to her, I asked

“Why those specific flowers?”

I watched her eyes light up with a passion I never knew existed and proceeded to tell me the meanings and origins of both flowers.

“-so it only makes sense that this would be her flower!” she said

I nodded along in interest as if I didn’t already know the answer. She became so animated when she talked about the things she cares about. It was refreshing after being in the BAU for this long and witnessing so much hate and sorrow that came with the job. Seeing someone filled with passion and liveliness when it comes to making a career out of their hobbies was a wonderful thing. All this was not to say that I didn’t like being in the BAU. I wouldn’t be able to leave my family there, not now anyway.

Speaking of family, I need to go to the care facility before visiting hours are over.

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Y/n POV

I set the flowers on the counter, tying a silk ribbon around the vase just to add a little flair.

“Alright! That’ll be $10.50.” I said with a smile.

I look up from the register to see him staring at me with a crooked smile. God, he was cute. I wish I was confident enough to ask for his number… Hopefully, I’ll see him again someday. After admiring his features for what seemed like a lifetime, I realized we’ve just been staring at each other since I looked up at him. I start to get a bit insecure. Why has he been staring so long? Is there something on my face? Oh my god is that pesky pimple back?

As y/n was internally freaking out, Spencer on the other hand was basking in her beauty. He couldn’t believe he was standing in the presence of such an ethereal being like her. Her… Oh god. He doesn’t even know her name.

“Um,” y/n stuttered, “Hello? Are you alright?” She lifted her hand to wave it in front of his face to get his attention.

“Oh! I- I- uhh, Sorry about that. I got a bit distracted…” Spencer stumbled over his words like a teenager in love. “What was the total again?” he asked embarrassedly, a blush rising from the bottom of his chest to the tip tops of his ears.

“Oh, um it was $10.50,” she repeated with a newfound shyness, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Spencer tried not to fumble with his wallet too severely in an effort to save himself any further embarrassment in front of the pretty florist. That plan failed miserably because as soon as he pulled out his cash, several coins flew out of his wallet. He muttered a quick ‘I’m so sorry as he bent down to get them.

What he didn’t notice was y/n bending down to help him. As she collected the few that fell over by the counter and he collected the ones on his side, they both stood up slightly too close together and headbutted each other. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a bruise or bump, but enough to send a shock through both of them.

Y/n stumbled hard enough from the collision and surprise that she almost toppled over. At the last second, the handsome stranger reached out and grabbed her hand, effectively steadying her.

Rubbing her forehead y/n said “I'm so sorry! Are you alright?”

Letting go of her hand, Spencer replied “Oh, no I’m sorry, I didn't even realize you were right there. Is your head ok?” He was genuinely worried if she was ok.

“Oh, I’m fine, no need to worry!” y/n giggled.

Spencer set the money on the counter and put his wallet away. Y/n rang him up and gave him his receipt.

“Oh, wait! Before you go, I wanted to ask if you wanted to add a small card or note…free of charge” y/n said, the last bit a little sheepishly because of what (she hoped) she was implying. Unfortunately for her, Spencer was very dense when it came to flirting, so he didn’t pick up what she meant.

“Really? Thank you…”

y/n grabbed a card with a pretty border and one of her fountain pens. She looked up at him and nodded, waiting for him to start speaking.

“Live the wonderful life that is in you. Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. I love you, mom. Love, Spencer.”

y/n smiled at that. This was one of the sweetest bouquets she’s ever had the pleasure of putting together, too bad he’ll be gone before she knows it.

“Well Spencer, you're all set! Thank you for stopping in today, I hope to see you again soon,” she says with a smile. Although this encounter was fleeting, she was enamored with him.

“Thank you for all your help. I wouldn't have been able to do this,” he gestured to the vase full of flowers, “without you, um, I’m so sorry I never got your name...”

“Y/n,” she supplied. “and it's no problem! Stop in whenever you'd like!”

With that, he walked out with a small wave and a smile. Y/n sighed happily, knowing that the rest of her day was going to go very well.

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Spencer’s POV

Once I left the shop and was on my way to the care facility, I realized I couldn't stop thinking about her. Like she put me under her spell as soon as I laid my eyes upon her. I want to see her again but it’s not like I get flowers all the time for people… Maybe I should do that, for the sake of the economy and helping out a small business. Also, it makes people feel appreciated, so what's not to like about getting and giving flowers?

By the time I decided that buying flowers for people would be my new gift-giving method, I had arrived at the care facility. I took a deep breath and exited the car. I was nervous to see what kind of day my mom was having. The last time I talked to her nurses, they said she wasn’t doing as well as they had hoped once they put her on new medication. I, of course, still wanted to visit her. She’s my mom, the person that has been there for me always.

After checking in and locating her I greeted her with a smile and a warm hug.

“Oh, Spencer! I’ve missed you so much! I have to tell you about this poem by Jane Austen I read the other day…”

“I can’t wait to hear it, mom.” He said. He was so glad she was having a good day. He wanted to tell her about y/n after she said her piece.

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“ ...and that's why I can never read it again without thinking about Stevie Nicks!” exclaimed Diana.

Spencer was having such a nice time with his mom and he must have lost track of time because when he looked at his watch it was almost the end of visiting hours. It completely slipped his mind to tell his mom about the beautiful girl who runs the flower shop.

“Mom… Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, a little out of the blue considering the conversation they were having before.

“Well Spencer, that’s a pretty hard question to answer. I think it all depends on the other person's first impression that they may have had on you before even opening their mouth to speak. Though I’m not sure if I’ve ever experienced that feeling firsthand…” she answered honestly.

Spencer sat there contemplating the advice he was given and said

“I met this girl today… She owns the flower shop just a few minutes away from here. She helped me pick out the flowers I gave you. She was kind and so smart. She knew the meanings of the flowers off the top of her head like it was nothing. Her smile could light up any room and I could tell she was so passionate about her job. I would like to think she would be my first experience of love at first sight…” he rambled hoping he didn’t sound foolish.

Diana looked at him and shook her head lovingly.

“She sounds wonderful, Spencer. Please tell her thank you from me the next time you see her.”

And with that, visiting hours were over and it was time for him to head home.

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The Next Day

The next day Spencer Reid walked into the bullpen with a smile on his face and a pep in his step. He was still a bit giddy from the encounter he had yesterday, playing it over and over in his mind. The perks of having an eidetic memory. Since he works with a bunch of profilers, they were able to analyze his cheerfulness and boil it down to-

“So who’s the special lady?” Derek asked as he walked up to Spencer’s desk with two mugs in his hand, one labeled ‘Spencer Reid’.

Spencer froze, trying to make up a lie to explain his cheerful mood. “I- uh, I was j-just visiting my mom yesterday and she was having a really good day. No other ‘ladies’ in my life, thank you” he said as he snatched his mug from Derek. Tasting it and mentally noting that it needed more sugar.

Derek looked at him and obviously wasn’t convinced, but he dropped it, for now, settling for “Alright pretty boy, if you say so…” he chuckled and walked away, leaving spencer glowing red at his desk.

He folded his arms on his desk and put his head between them to hide his blush. If the day kept going on like this, he might turn into a permanent tomato.

~

A few hours later, after finishing his paperwork for the case they had finished a few days ago, he headed to Penelope’s office just to visit. In all honesty, she was just as much his best friend as Derek, just in a different way. She always gave him some much-needed positivity in his everyday life, and he will always be forever grateful to her for that.

As she walked into her lair she turned in her swivel chair and greeted him with a happy smile.

“What's Cookin good-lookin?” she teased, hearing from Morgan that something was up with him.

“Ha ha very funny Garcia.” he joked with her internally cursing Morgan for spilling the non-existent beans.

“Sooo…. Who’s the lucky lady that has caught the eye of the wonderful Junior G-Man?” Garcia teased, yet genuinely curious.

“There’s no girl I swear!” he lied through his teeth, and pretty badly at that.

Penelope shot him a look that said “Do not lie to the omnipotent being that is moi, I know all”

Spencer sighed and sat in the other spinny chair in her office and said,

“Yesterday I went to the little flower shop near my moms care facility just to do something nice for her because she hasn't been doing well recently,”

Garcia frowned a little at that and put her hand on his knee, comforting touches are just her thing and he knows that, so he doesn’t push her away, he places his hand on top of hers. He knows how much he cares.

“It was beautiful n there, but what really caught my eye was the girl working there… She was beautiful. She was so kind and she was incredibly smart. Her eyes were like honey in the sun and I’m sure she’s artistic because the sign out front was hand-painted… but all that aside, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.” he continued.

Garcia was practically vibrating in her seat with excitement as he finished. She was just so excited to see him happy.

“Spencer oh my god! She sounds perfect! You need to ask her out like today.” she said while turning to her computer. Spencer has a feeling of what her next question is so he says,

“No, Garcia, I will not tell you her name so you can do a deep dive on her life.” as he side-eyes her. Her face contorted into a pout at his words.

“But Spencer please~, “ she begs. “I can find out all her favorite places so you can take her there for your date!”

“No Garcia… I want to get to know her properly. No FBI intervention. Plus, I want her to take me to her favorite spots because she wants me to, not because I already know what she likes…” he states as he imagines what going on a coffee date with y/n would look like.

“Alright alright fine, but pinky promise that you’ll fill me in on all the details when you eventually take her on a date.” She said while holding her pinky out for him to accept.

“Deal.” he said as he locked pinkies with her.

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As y/n went to start cleaning up for the evening, the light ting of the bell above the shop sounded once more. As tired as she is, she turns and slaps a happy smile on her face

“Hi welcome in! How can I help you today?”

As she turns she sees the handsome man from yesterday, Spencer, if she remembers correctly. He looks even more adorable than before with his sweater vest and all-star chucks. She smiles genuinely now, tucking her curls behind her ears in an attempt to seem more casual.

“Hi again… I um I needed to get some flowers for my friend. She just announced that she’s having another baby and I wanted to congratulate her with something other than future baby items because unfortunately, I have no idea what I would get for her if I went down that route…” he trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets and making the Awkward White Person smile, obviously nervous and giving himself away with the rambling.

Y/n was so excited at the news of a baby she immediately got to work.

“Oh my goodness how exciting! Does she know the gender yet?” she asked just so she can accurately style the bouquet.

“Yeah! She’s having a little boy.” He smiles at that and he visibly relaxes. Y/n takes that as a sign that he’s warming up to her a little.

~

After half an hour of picking out the perfect flowers and placing them into a large vase, y/n finally tied a blue silk ribbon around the neck of it. She added a few finishing touches and voila! Her masterpiece was complete.

All the while Spencer was standing on the other side of the counter watching her work with such adoration in his eyes. He enjoyed watching her work. Adding flair and certain specializations to every bouquet to make them each unique.

After finishing y/n peers to the side of the large vase of flowers to look at Spencer in the eyes. To her surprise, he’s already leaned over and looking at her too. They share a brief moment of admiration of each other before getting embarrassed and looking away like a couple of high school kids.

“So, since this is a gift for a friend, It’ll be on the house…” she says desperately hoping he’ll pick up on the hint this time.

“Oh my god...I - I can’t let you do that. Here,” he takes out his wallet and tries to pull out 35$ in cash.

y/n reaches over and puts her hands over his. “That’s not necessary, really. I don’t mind…” she says this with a warm smile. Just being able to spend these few fleeting moments with him in her shop has brought her so much joy.

“Thank you… That’s so generous of you, but I can’t just let you give me a whole flower arrangement without something in return…” he stalls. “Would you let me take you out for coffee? I know a great spot near the farmers market, and it has a flower booth too…” His hands are trembling a bit but she doesn’t notice because she’s smiling so hard her cheeks are beginning to feel sore.

She nods enthusiastically and says “Yes. Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

She slides him a piece of paper with her number on it and leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He accepts it and flushes so brightly, it rivals that of the sun. They wave goodbye after scheduling their date for Saturday, and y/n could tell that soon this relationship would be in full bloom.

Fin~

tag list:

pls message me if you’d like to be added or removed <3 !!

@ssavanessa22 @boldlyvoid @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @meganskane @ilovespencerreidmarryme @g0lden-cth

[thewildomega]

Akainu x Motherless Daughter Headcanons

@iamemmalindberg Ask:  Hello, I really enjoyed the headcanon with whitebeard and a pregnant omega and I just read you love angst. So I have a request for a headcanon with Akainu: The (vice) admiral's wife died during childbirth, but their daughter survived, how will he raise the child as a single parent?? Some context if I may include it - she is the sweetest and quite understanding with Akainu's job, but it hurts her that she is motherless and dad is hardly present. she cries easy, when "family" is brought up. Thanks

A/N: This proved to be more difficult than I intended but only because it hit me right in the feels. Thank you for the ask, hope you like it. 

Sakazuki would hang onto the last memory of his wife forever. Her face was flushed of color and her eyes weak as she looked up at him. Moving to stand beside her bed he swallowed thickly before crouching down to be close to her face as her lips started moving the slightest. 

“Saka... look isn’t she b..beautiful..” 

Seeing his dying wife smile so sweetly like she always did he blinked and forced his eyes down to the newborn babe currently laying on her chest. Their tiny daughter was sleeping peacfuly in her mother’s final moments. 

“Our perfect l..little g..girl. You’re going tttoooo be a... great dad Saka...” 

Looking away from the girl he instead moved his eyes to the window. “How am I supposed to be a father to the thing that killed the woman I love.”  Feeling something touch his jaw lightly he turned his face back to her, clenching his teeth when she stroked his cheek with her trembling fingers. 

“Oh Saka p..please don’t be like that... This isn’t her fault and you know that. If y..you must blame someone t..then blame me... I.. I wasn’t ssstrong enough...” 

Closing his eyes he shook his head. “Don’t. You are the strongest person I know Y/n.” Hearing the babe make a small noise and then her weak voice speaking to their daughter he felt the knot in his throat growing. 

“You and y..your daddy are going to b...be the per...fect little fa..family.”

 “It isn’t going to be a family without you.”

 “Sure it will... You and o..our little Sakura here and... and maybe someone else one...” 

“No. No I will never love another Y/n. You are my wife, forever.” Laying his forehead on hers he closed his eyes. 

“Saka m..my love I..I’m afraid I h..have to gooo now...”

Shaking his head he moved his hand to her hair and pet it like he did so often when they were alone. “No you can’t. I can’t do this on my own. I don’t know anything about being a parent.” 

“You’ve always been a quick learner. Besides she needs you... P..promise me Saka... promise you’ll t..take care of her. Be t..there for her...l..love her...for the both of u..us.” 

Nodding he lifted his head to look her in the eye. “I promise Y/n.” Seeing her smile at him with tears in her eyes he felt his own start to water as he watched her use her last strength to kiss their daughter’s head. 

“I love you... both of you...” 

“I love you.” he told her and saw her eyes lift back to his. Bending down to kiss her lips he pulled away and watched her eyes slowly close. Feeling tears roll from his eyes he heard their daughter start crying, her mother’s heartbeat no longer there to sooth her. Dropping his head to the bed beside hers he continued petting her hair with one hand while the other moved to the wailing babe. 

Loosing his wife was hard, being a single father was not something he was prepared to take on. 

At first he would not know where anything is, he hadn’t been there when his wife had placed everything up in the nursery, preparing for their child. 

He couldn’t tell you how many nights he sat in that rocking chair staring at the crib as she slept. 

Being on leave both for the birth of his daughter and grieving time for his wife he would work on getting a routine down. 

He must have lucked out because as it turned out his little flower was easy going. After the first few weeks she slept through the night and hardly ever fussed. 

Hiring a nanny once he started back work was a long process. No one seemed qualified in the beginning but he came to realized that no one was ever going to be what he really wanted, his wife. 

As the years passed his daughter grew and he tried to spend as much time with her as he could, tried to fulfill his promise to his wife but work was work. The navy was his life too. 

Sakazuki is a very strict person and that carries through to his home as well. His daughter has gotten used to it though and she understands perfectly well who her father is. 

She never bothers him to play with her, knowing full and well he doesn’t have time. 

When the nanny would tell him about his little girl drawing pictures of her mother, him and her all together or how she cries silently in her room whenever the word family is mentioned around her he would feel guilty but he wouldn’t show it. 

Most of her time is spent alone but when Sakazuki is home he makes it known that she can talk to him about anything. 

Although many people would think he is uncaring all the time that isn’t the case. He does love his daughter very much and it secretly hurts him when he realizes how much he isn’t there for her he pushes himself harder. She was already motherless he wouldn’t make her feel fatherless as well. 

Dinner time is their time and as long as he isn’t away he makes it his top priority to get there on time for them to share the meal and talk. 

He may not say much himself but he is a very good listener and takes everything his flower says in. He knows her likes and dislikes, her favorite color and animal. 

He also invites her to sit with him while he is pruning his bonsai trees, holding her in his lap and glancing down to see her small eyes watching him carefully. 

The vice admiral may not be the one to parade parenthood all around but you can best believe he keeps a picture of her and his wife on him at all times. 

In his office on his desk is the framed picture his flower drew of her family all together but everyone knows not to dare mention it. 

The man is very protective over what is the only family he has left. 

Once she starts school he keeps up with her grades, she will no doubt have the best grades in the school. The navy man already has his heart set on his child being the next marine prodigy. 

His mind often drifts to his wife, the woman that he loved so dearly and he wishes more than anything she was still here so their daughter wouldn’t have to be alone. 

He is lucky to have such an understanding child but he will always push himself to do better, to be better. 

Once she is old enough he will tell her everything about her mother, answer any of her questions. “Did you love her?” the quiet question stunned him for a moment. Lifting his eyes from his plate he looked into the identical eyes his wife had and took a deep breath. “Very much.”