#those are some BIG NOTES and he doesn't blur a single one

[sophiamcdougall]

I don't care I don't care his voice is amazing quella che non scorderooooOOOOOOOooooooooOOOOOOOOOO

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse from naoya but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical)

ꨄ words: 10.5k

ꨄ a/n. hello my mhm lovelies :') i've missed writing this fic dearly! please note, this is not chapter 7—however, i will be releasing ch 7 this month. this is just a fun little side chapter with some family domesticity for the autumn season. taking place sometime after reader/satoru become official. ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

As the crisp autumn air has arrived, it brings with it a feeling of change—and perhaps nature itself is subtly acknowledging just how much your life has shifted.

It’s baffling. Your time in the Gojo estate has been nothing short of eventful—and it feels like just yesterday you stood in front of Satoru, proposing an arrangement that was as unexpected as it was necessary. But now, with the leaves turning a fiery shade of red, orange, and gold, you realize just how quietly and quickly fall has crept in.

And with all this change, your relationship with Satoru has begun to reshape as well—a new chapter, freshly inked. No secrets, no acts—just the three of you, finding your footing in this new arrangement you’ve embarked on.

But one thing hasn’t changed—Satoru simply can’t say no to Haru.

It’s something that’s too cute for its own good—watching him wrapped around her small little finger, treating her like the princess she is. Ahh…but it’s even cuter how he tries to hide it. Satoru has a heart of gold, and though he may use his wit and charm as a mask, you’ve come to see through most of his tricks now—especially when it involves Haru.

And Haru? Well, lately she has really started to become attached to Satoru—in ways that even surprise you. Everything has been ‘toru this - ‘toru that. The trouble with it? Well... ’toru doesn’t have all the experience of handling a kid, let alone a two-year-old. But day by day, he is learning.

Fall is Haru’s favorite season, ironic given her name translates to “spring.” She adores everything about it—the cool, crisp air that calls for cuddles and cozy sweaters, the cinnamon pumpkin treats that have become a staple in the kitchen, and the magic of “spooky season,” as she calls it.

The latest item on her list? A trip to the pumpkin patch.

The idea had come up over breakfast, as you sipped your chai and watched Haru list off her autumn plans with boundless enthusiasm. The moment she had flashed those wide, hopeful eyes at you both, of course Satoru offered to take her—he stepped in immediately and you’d been surprised but delighted by the offer.

And now, you’re embarking on this journey together—off to the pumpkin patch. You head down the stairs of the Gojo’s estate with Haru’s little hand nestled in yours—chattering excitedly about all the things she wants to do and see at the pumpkin patch.

“Let’s find a big pumpkin, Mama! I wanna pet the animals!”

You smile, nodding along, but as you reach the end of the stairs, glancing into the foyer, you’re greeted by a sight entirely unexpected.

Satoru leans casually against the banister, scrolling through his phone, but he’s dressed down in a way you’ve never seen. Gone are his usual tailored suits and designer dress shoes—instead, he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, a pair of well-worn jeans, and, most surprisingly, a black beanie snug over his white hair. The only familiar accessory he wears is that pair of round, dark sunglasses resting upon the bridge of his nose.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, he glances up from his phone, grinning.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Gojo,” you smirk, stepping closer. “You almost look…normal.”

A low hum rumbles from his chest as he takes off his sunglasses for a moment, letting you catch sight of that familiar twinkle in his eyes.

“Almost?” he feigns offense, pushing off from the banister. “Aw man, that’s disappointing, considering that this,” he gestures at his outfit, “is premium low-profile attire.”

You snort, reaching up to playfully tug on one of the strings of his hoodie.

“I didn’t realize you had a whole ‘undercover’ look ready to go.”

“Well… yeah,” he leans forward and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Life of a celebrity, sweetheart. Last thing we need is the pumpkin paparazzi swarming us. I’d rather they didn’t ruin Haru’s big day out.”

His words make you pause, a gentle warmth filling your chest at his thoughtfulness—but before you can respond, a tiny voice chimes in.

“‘toru, you look like a spy!” Haru’s small hand grips the fabric of his jeans, her face alight with excitement as she gazes up at him.

Satoru chuckles, turning his attention fully to her. As he crouches down to meet her gaze, his own expression softens.

“A spy, huh? You’re onto something princess.” He gently ruffles her hair. “Alright… here’s the deal. You can be my sidekick, but only if you keep my secret.” He puts a finger to his lips, and whispers. “No one can know who I really am. It’ll be our secret mission.”

“Secret! I won’t tell,” she whispers with utmost seriousness, and her eyes beam with the thrill of this imaginary game he’s now given her.

“Good,” he murmurs, tapping her nose lightly, “I knew I could trust ya, kiddo,” and as he shoots her a wink, she dissolves into a fit of giggles.

You watch them from a few steps away, leaning back against the banister with your arms crossed—a soft smile tugging at your lips. There’s something endearing, almost mesmerizing, about the way Satoru allows himself to be swept up in Haru’s world, and you’re incredibly impressed at how seamlessly he’s growing into this role—this new chapter of his life, and yours. As you catch glimpses of the man he’s becoming, these small, unguarded moments bring forth a version of Satoru that feels both familiar and entirely new.

Just then, Satoru glances up and catches you watching him with that uncharacteristically soft expression. His gaze narrows playfully, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he stands.

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

Your smile softens, and the words that leave your lips slip out before you even realize it.

“Who knew dad vibes could look this good on you?”

Ah, fuck. The second the words leave your lips; you feel a heat rushing to your cheeks—you’ve spoken without thinking, letting your admiration for him slip out in a way that feels a little too honest—more vulnerable than you intended—giving him a title—that title. You’re still getting used to this… this new, real relationship that you and Satoru share, and moments like this catch you off guard.

Satoru’s reaction is immediate; his eyes widen in surprise, and for a heartbeat, he simply blinks at you, processing what you’ve said. Flustered, you bite your lip—your gaze darting away for a moment as the heat in your face intensifies. There is no hiding the delicate pink painting your cheeks.

But then, his surprise melts into a grin—a slow, pleased smile that lights up his entire face, stretching into a smirk that’s all too self-satisfied.

“Oh?” his voice drips with amusement. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ‘dad vibes.’”

Stepping forward, he tilts his head—studying you with a newfound intensity, and it becomes very clear that he’s relishing in your flustered reaction.

Ugh. You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed in his response. Clearing your throat, you try to salvage a bit of dignity.

“I, uh… I just mean, y’know… you’re getting the hang of this,” you mumble.

You should know better—that playful glint in Satoru’s eyes tells you he’s not letting you off the hook. His eyes beam with mischief as he leans in close, and you desperately try to advert your gaze.

“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t backtrack now,” he smirks, turning your face to meet him.

The warmth in your cheeks intensifies under his gaze, and his fingers linger, brushing tenderly against your chin. Your breath catches the moment he moves in closer—lips ghosting just over yours.

“I think I could get used to is this kind of flattery…”

You suck in a breath and playfully roll your eyes. “The last thing you need is an ego boost. Don’t get too used to it…”

“Too late,” he whispers back.

Before you can say anything else, a small, impatient voice breaks the moment.

“Mama, ‘toru! Let’s gooo! Pumpkins!” she pouts.

You both blink, snapping out of the moment as you glance down at Haru, who’s now tugging on your hands with eager impatience.

She’s not about to let her pumpkin adventure be delayed by your moment.

“Alright, alright, princess, we’re going,” Satoru chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully. “Besides, I’m not the only one going incognito today.”

Turning towards a nearby table, he reaches for a small shopping bag you hadn’t noticed before, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity as he holds the bag out to you with a smirk. The moment the bag is settled in your hands, you immediately open it—revealing your own matching beanie, followed by a pair of sleek designer sunglasses.

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

“Ah, of course,” you muse, grinning at you pull your disguise out of the shopping bag. “Didn’t realize we were going full ‘spy mode’ for this outing.”

Satoru chuckles, but his eyes soften as he watches you slip the beanie over your head and position the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose with a flourish.

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

“Like the perfect accomplice,” he declares with a grin. “No one will suspect a thing.”

Haru’s face lights up and she claps her hands in excitement.

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

The thrill in her voice pulls a laugh from both you and Satoru—she’s completely swept up in this game. Satoru mirrors after you—slipping on his own sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish as he flashes Haru a mischievous grin. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and whispers conspiratorially—as though letting her in on a top-secret plan.

“That’s right, kiddo. It’s a full family mission.”

Haru’s eyes beam with childlike wonder as she nods—putting her finger to her lips again—mimicking his serious expression. Suddenly, Satoru pulls out a set of keys from his hoodie pocket and begins dangling them in front of you with a grin. The silver glints in the sunlight as he places them in your hand.

“C’mon, you’re driving today,” he says with an easy nonchalance.

It takes a moment for you to register that it’s your keys he had set in your hand, and you blink down at them for a moment while he steps towards the door. It’s been so long since you’ve driven your own car that it feels oddly unfamiliar—like a relic from another life.

“Oh, uh… yeah, sure,” you stammer, still caught off guard as you follow him out the door, with Haru skipping beside you—a cascade of excitement as she babbles about today’s adventure.

Once you step outside, your gaze lands on your car waiting in the driveway—a dark blue sedan with a soft, understated shine—a small piece of normalcy you’d left behind in the wake of Gojo's luxury.  It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s always been reliable.

Driving out of the Gojo estate… in your car? It’s a strange, almost surreal concept after all the chauffeured cars and limos that have now oddly become routine. A rush of familiarity surges through you—remembering the simpler times, a glimpse of the life that once belonged solely to you.

While you’re lost down memory lane, Satoru strolls toward the passenger side. He pauses, glancing back to find you standing there—keys in hand, a touch of nostalgia softening you features. His signature smirk settles into place as he leans casually against the passenger door and muses.

“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ve forgotten how to drive? Or…” his eyes narrow with playful mischief as he raises an eyebrow, “are you too fancy to drive your own car now, Mrs. Gojo?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes before striding over to the rear passenger door, where Haru waits—her small fingers clutching the edge eagerly.

“Says the one who never drives,” you shoot back, grinning as you pull open the door. “Mr. ‘Passenger Princess.’”

Your comment earns you a dramatic huff as he places a hand over his chest—pretending to be affronted—though the grin curling upon his lip tells you he’s anything but offended.

“Excuuuse me, but this ‘passenger princess’ comes with premium commentary and a charming smile. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have this level of company in the front seat.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes again as you reach down to lift Haru into the car.

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

But just as you begin to settle Haru into her car seat, her demeanor shifts—before you know it, she’s twisting in your arms, pressing her hands against your shoulders, all while her little brows draw together in a determined pout.

“No, Mama!” she wriggles free—scurrying down to plant her feet on the ground. You blink the moment she crosses her arms and defiantly declares, “I want ‘toru to do it!”

The request takes you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily speechless. Uhhh… come to think of it, does Satoru even know how to strap a toddler into a car seat? You glance over at him, and he looks equally thrown off—an uncertain smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

You can practically see his internal debate unfolding—he subtly glances between you and Haru—clearly flattered but just as visibly out of his depth.

Oh, Haru. She absolutely adores him—and while Satoru isn’t exactly resisting the role she’s suddenly assigned him, you know first-hand that he’s pretty much clueless with toddler basics. Car seats and sippy cups? Yeah… not exactly his area of expertise.

With a sigh, you kneel beside Haru—a gentle smile on your lips.

“Haru, honey… Satoru doesn’t exactly—"

Satoru clears his throat.

“—uh… sure, I can do it,” he straightens, pushing himself off the side of the car with a nonchalant shrug as he gives you a small, uncertain grin. “How hard can it be?”

A giggle breaks from Haru’s lips as he swoops her up, and her little arms wrap around his neck with delight—but Satoru’s eyes narrow at the car seat like it’s some sort of complex machinery he’s about to dismantle. Oh… this is gonna be good.

He carefully lowers her into the seat, and his brows furrow with intense focus as his fingers begin to slip over the unfamiliar buckles.

“Alright… this goes here… or does it?” he mutters.

Biting back a smile, you marvel at how determined yet adorably out of his element he is—untangling the straps. But as you watch him struggle, you are suddenly struck with the realization of how different this moment feels from anything you have ever experienced in the past.

Naoya? He would never have humored Haru’s whims, let alone spent time trying to puzzle out something as simple (yet surprisingly complicated) as a car seat. No—it was easier for him to hand off the messy tasks of parenting.

But Satoru? Here he was, eyebrows knitted in stubborn determination—refusing to give up on this minor challenge, simply because Haru had asked him to. Each small stumble, each adjustment he makes, only seems to fuel his resolve to get it right.

After a few moments, a sigh of mild frustration escapes him, and he pauses, staring at the tangled straps in front of him in defeat. Finally, glancing over his shoulder, he casts you a sheepish look that’s so uncharacteristically vulnerable it melts you.

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

Oh, he’s too cute. He’s trying so hard, and something about it makes you want to lean in and kiss him, just for being so completely, irresistibly endearing.

Stepping forward, you smile softly, inspecting his work with a practiced eye.

“You’re doing great,” you assure him warmly, reaching out to gently adjust the chest clip. “But you’ll want to raise this a little higher—it should be level with her armpits, and maybe tighten it a bit more.”

His eyes focus closely on your hands as you gently guide him through the adjustments, and he nods—carefully stepping back in to finish the task with a newfound confidence.

“Okay, got it.”

Your slight encouragement seems to have spurred his fingers to move more purposefully now. Tightening the strap, he gives it a final tug to check the tension, and with a small huff of triumph, a wide grin spreads across his face as he leans back—admiring his handiwork.

“There,” he announces, sounding both relieved and just a little proud. “One secure kiddo.”

Haru beams up at him, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Good job, ‘toru!” her voice is filled with an adorable pride, as though she’s the one teaching him.

“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckles, gently closing her door and casting her one last fond look through the window. Then, with an easy stride, he slips into the passenger seat beside you, settling in with an air of satisfaction.

“All right, you two,” you exhale, securing your seatbelt with a satisfying click. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”

After securing his own seatbelt, Satoru’s eyes flicker to yours with playful adoration. He leans back with a contented sigh.

“Yup. And with you behind the wheel, I get the best view in the car,” winking playfully, his trademark smirk appears as he adds, “Ready when you are, Madam Chauffeur.”

ꨄ︎

The pumpkin patch sprawls before you like a painted autumn wonderland. Rows upon rows of pumpkins in every imaginable shape and size dot the field—their bright orange hues glowing under the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun. Rustic wooden signs swing gently in the breeze, directing families to activities like hay rides, corn mazes, and a “Pumpkin Painting Station.” You’re welcomed with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the sweetness of spiced donuts and apple cider—a warm nostalgic embrace of autumn.

Nearby, children dart between the pumpkins, shrieking with laughter as they kick up leaves. Parents snap photos, their laughter joining the symphony of crunching footsteps and cheerful voices. You glance at Satoru, who’s paused just past the entrance—his gaze sweeping across the scene with a mixture of awe and slight bewilderment. There’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, like he’s trying to take in every detail of this unfamiliar world.

“Well?” you ask, nudging him gently with a smile. “What do you think?”

He shrugs, flashing a lopsided grin as he meets your gaze.

“Honestly? I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more… contained?” his eyes flick to a group of kids who’ve just toppled over in a pile of leaves—sending a cloud of autumn colors flying around them.

“Contained?” you echo, a smirk crossing your face. “Satoru, it’s a pumpkin patch, not a black-tie event. Consider it an adventure in rural living.”

He lets out a low chuckle, and his usual confidence is softened by a rare, boyish charm.

“Mmm... well I guess I’m overdue for an adventure like this,” his gaze drifts over the rows of pumpkins—families bundled in scarves and jackets as the haze of afternoon sunlight filters through the trees. His tone dips into something warm, almost tender. “Hard to believe, but I’ve never actually been to one of these before.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

“Nah... let’s just say pumpkin patches aren’t exactly a Gojo family tradition…” he chuckles softly, but there’s a bit of sadness coloring his voice as he scratches the back of his head. “I guess most of my autumns were spent in places a bit… less pumpkin-filled.”

His unguarded honesty tugs at something deep within you. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, just how much of a different world he comes from—how even the smallest traditions, like visiting a pumpkin patch, might’ve been out of reach for him.

Without a second thought, you reach over, sliding your hand into his, your fingers curling around his in a gentle squeeze. He looks down, surprise flashing in his eyes, before his expression softens as he meets your gaze.

“There’s a first time for everything,” you murmur softly. “And… now you’ve got Haru and me to show you how it’s done. We’re practically pumpkin patch experts.”

A soft smile breaks across his face, and for a moment, he looks like he’s letting down a guard you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I couldn’t ask for better teachers,” he squeezes your hand back.

Just then, a delighted gasp breaks the stillness as Haru tugs excitedly on Satoru’s hand—her eyes are wide and shining with wonder as she points to a patch of particularly large pumpkins.

“Look, ‘toru! Big ones!” she practically bounces with energy. “Let’s go! Pleeease?”

Satoru’s expression softens even further as he glances from you to Haru, and with a small laugh, he nods—allowing himself to be pulled forward by her tiny but insistent hand.

“Alright, alright, lead the way, pumpkin expert,” he says, casting a quick, affectionate glance back at you—and your heart swells from the way his eyes twinkle with amusement, and maybe, just a hint of gratitude.

ꨄ︎

“This one?” Satoru asks, holding up a pumpkin with a proud grin.

“No!” Haru exclaims immediately, her face scrunched up in disapproval. “Too skinny.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, giving the pumpkin an exaggerated, doubtful look.

“Too skinny, huh?” setting it down with a sigh, he brushes off his hands—back to square one. “Alright, let’s keep looking.”

He takes a few steps, scanning the rows, and his gaze falls on another pumpkin—rounder this time, but with a bit of a tilt to one side. He bends down to pick it up, then holds it out with a contemplative look.

“Hmm… how about this one? Good color, nice and round—”

“Nope!” Haru cuts him off, shaking her head with a serious frown. “It’s bumpy.”

Satoru sighs—a huff of a chuckle. He places the pumpkin back down with mock solemnity.

“Alright, alright. No bumps, no skinniness. Got it.”

Glancing back, he casts you a quick look—an amused twinkle in his eye as he mouths, she’s tough. Stifling a laugh, you sit back on a nearby hay bale, watching their search unfold with growing amusement. Haru’s standards have always been impressively high, and Satoru, is finally getting a taste of that.

As they wander a little farther down the row, Satoru’s gaze lands on another contender—a medium-sized pumpkin with a perfectly round shape and a smooth surface. Crouching down beside it, he inspects it with all the seriousness of a seasoned pumpkin picker, then holds it out, giving Haru a hopeful look.

“This one? Look, it’s perfectly round and no bumps in sight.”

Haru narrows her eyes, stepping forward and scrutinizing the pumpkin with an intensity that belies her age. A tiny, dramatic sigh escapes her as she shakes her head in disapproval.

“No, it’s not orange enough. Has to be super orange!”

“Super orange,” he echoes with a dramatic nod. “Of course. What was I thinking?” He places it back with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he searches the rows—clearly determined not to give up.

Biting back a smile, you watch him crouch beside her yet again, leaning in close to match her intense expression. Then, he picks up another pumpkin and holds it out in front of her, trying to contain his hope.

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

With a defeated sigh, Satoru watches as she continues her search, undeterred and unbothered by his less-than-stellar picks. After a moment, he walks back over to you and plops down on the hay bale—his shoulders slumping in mock exhaustion.

��Is there such a thing as a perfect pumpkin, or am I just doomed to fail here?”

You can’t help but grin—reaching over for his hand. As your fingers intertwine with his, you rest your head gently against his shoulder.

“Oh… I think there’s one out there somewhere,” you murmur, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t give up now, Mr. Gojo. Just think of this as your first lesson in pumpkin-picking perseverance.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest—low and warm.

“Perseverance, huh?” looking down at your joined hands, his thumb brushes tenderly over your fingers, before his gaze lifts to meet yours—there’s a softness in his eyes, a kind of warmth that feels as comfortable as the autumn sun. “Alright… if you believe in me, I guess I’ll keep trying. But if she shoots down one more pumpkin, I might need a pep talk.”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

“I’ll be here, ready with all the encouragement you need. This is serious business, y’know.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there’s a spark of determination there as he watches Haru continue her search with relentless focus.

“Serious business, huh?” he mutters, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… far be it from me to let a toddler outdo me.”

Before you can respond, a delighted gasp cuts through the air.

“Mama! ‘toru! I found it!” eyes wide and sparkling, Haru points proudly at a pumpkin nestled snugly in the dirt.

The triumph in her voice makes Satoru’s eyes light up. Standing from the hay bale, his hands nestle into the pockets of his hoodie as he strides towards Haru, with you following closely behind.

“Really now? Let’s take a look at this prize pumpkin.”

Crouching down beside it, Satoru lifts the pumpkin carefully with both hands—as though it’s the crown jewel of the pumpkin patch. His brow furrows with an exaggerated seriousness as he turns it slowly, examining every curve and contour.

“Hmm… yes, I think you’re right,” he declares, voice thoughtful. “This is one smooth, super orange, pumpkin…and just look at that stem!” he taps the pumpkin’s top lightly and flashes Haru a crooked grin. “You’ve got a great eye, kiddo. I’d say you found the best one here.”

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

“Yay!! Look, Mama look!” she beams, her smile stretching from ear to ear—glowing with joy.

Crouching down beside her, you run your hand gently over the pumpkin’s surface. “Wow, sweetie—I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”

You catch Satoru’s gaze holding yours for a moment—a soft smile stretching across his lips—and then, he reaches down to lift the pumpkin effortlessly—cradling it like a treasure.

“So… do we take it home now? Looks like we’ve got our perfect pumpkin, after all.”

You rise—shaking your head with a grin as you hold up a hand to pause him.

“Not so fast apprentice. You didn’t think we’d leave without experiencing the whole pumpkin patch, did you? C’mon, we’ll bring it up front, but check out later.”

Satoru chuckles, shifting the pumpkin under one arm as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Guess I shouldn’t rush the experts,” his eyes shift to Haru and his smile softens. “So… what’s next on our agenda, sweetheart?”

ꨄ︎

As the three of you stroll hand in hand through the bustling market stalls, the air is rich with the warm aroma of spiced cider, caramel, and freshly baked treats. Each booth is piled high with autumn delights—jars of golden honey, hand-painted gourds nestled among small pumpkins, and cozy knit scarves draped invitingly over wooden displays.

But Satoru’s attention is instantly captivated by the booth ahead—his eyes brimming in boyish wonder as they land on a display of sweet treats.

“Is that cider? And caramel apples?” he exclaims. “Come on, we have to try these,” and he’s steering you both eagerly towards the booth—like a moth to a flame.

You blink—a little surprised by how openly delighted he is over something so simple. But soon, a warm smile breaks across your face, and you can’t help but chuckle softly while he tugs you along.

“You’re like a kid in a candy store right now.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes you a grin so bright, it feels like a burst of sunlight breaking through the autumn clouds. His enthusiasm is contagious, and before you know it, you’re swept up in his excitement.

He eagerly orders three caramel apples and a steaming cup of cider to share. Then, turning back, he holds the treats up with a triumphant, radiant smile—gleaming with delight. Handing the first one to Haru, you watch as she sinks her small teeth into the sticky treat without hesitation.

“Mmm! Yummy!!” Caramel smears her cheeks, but she looks up at you both, absolutely beaming.

Satoru chuckles, reaching down to ruffle her hair fondly before turning back to you. With an exaggerated flourish, he extends a caramel apple in your direction—bowing slightly as he adopts a tone of mock chivalry.

“For you, my lady,” he says with a smirk.

Unable to hold back a grin, you roll your eyes at his theatrics—taking the apple from him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

As you bring the treat to your mouth, the rich sweetness clings to your lips in a sticky kiss. But you can’t resist glancing over at Satoru—and there he is, utterly lost in the simple pleasure of it. He bites into his own apple with unfiltered delight, like it’s the best thing he’s had all day.

A smile pulls at your lips as you watch him—licking a stray bit of caramel from his thumb. He’s entirely unbothered by the sticky mess, but then, as if feeling your gaze, he looks up—catching your eyes with a glint of amusement. A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face, unashamed and utterly charming.

"I didn’t peg you as someone who’d go for something this messy," you tease, taking another bite of your apple as he shrugs.

“You say messy; I say worth it,” he counters.

Your eyes linger on a small smudge of caramel at the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, you reach out—brushing your thumb gently across his lips to clean it away. But just as you begin to pull your hand back, he captures your fingers—holding them in place while his gaze meets yours. His lips curl into a smirk that promises nothing but trouble, and a shiver tingles up your spine the moment he brings your thumb to his lips.

Slowly, deliberately, he closes his lips around your thumb—enveloping the sticky sweetness in his warm mouth while sucking it off with a teasing slowness—leaving you breathless.

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

Releasing your digit with a soft, tantalizing pop—your breath hitches, and there’s a smug delight in the way he studies you, reveling in the effect he’s stirred within you.

“What can I say?” he hums, licking his lips with a casual ease. “Sweet things are my weakness.”

Your eyes are helplessly drawn to his lips—watching as his tongue glides over his bottom lip, catching the last traces of caramel. For a heartbeat, you can’t look away; his lips look even more tempting than the caramel itself, and something about his self-assured gaze has you feeling flustered and captivated all at once.

“Your weakness, huh?” you breathe, finally managing to lift your gaze back to his, trying to sound nonchalant. “Good to know… I’ll remember that next time you act like you’re above everyone else.”

A rich, low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans in, and the air around you crackles with anticipation as his gaze drops to your still sticky lips.

“You should,” he whispers, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours—a glint of mischief and something softer. “Especially since caramel apples aren’t my only weakness.”

Before you can even catch your breath, he leans in, bridging the small distance between you until his lips hover just a whisper away. His mouth brushes against yours, feather-light at first—a tentative, lingering touch that sends a shiver through you. Instinctively, you find yourself mirroring his movements, returning the kiss with gentle insistence.

As his hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb strokes a slow, comforting line along your cheek, grounding you, though his lips leave you feeling weightless. The kiss is a delicate dance, as intoxicating as it is tender, and you can taste the faint sweetness of caramel mingling with the warmth of him.

Pulling back, his warm breath mingles with your own as he rests his forehead gently against you. His eyes, soft and half-lidded, meet yours, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at his lips.

“You know…” he murmurs, caressing your cheek, “you taste even better than the caramel.”

“Sweet talker…” you mumble, your cheeks warming under his gaze as his smirk widens.

“Mmm, but you’re the sweetest thing here,” he breathes, voice dropping as he draws close again. “But… I think I need another taste. Just to be sure.”

This time, his lips press with a deeper, more assured insistence, moving against yours in a rhythm of warmth and quiet intensity. A low hum of approval escapes him, vibrating softly against your lips, and his hand slides to the back of your neck—fingers weaving through your hair as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

But just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a small, determined voice slices through the quiet intimacy like a record scratch.

“Hey!” Haru scolds, stern and resolute. “Bad ‘toru! Don’t squish Mama!”

Startled, you both break apart, blinking at each other as you catch your breath. You turn to see Haru standing nearby, her little arms crossed over her chest as she fixes Satoru with an adorably fierce look. Her brows are furrowed in a way that would be intimidating—if she weren’t so tiny.

Oh, Haru.

You exchange a quick, sheepish glance with Satoru, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, reaching down to ruffle her hair in an attempt to defuse her stern gaze.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he says, grinning. “Mama’s tougher than she looks.”

Wriggling out of his reach, she stomps her foot with a determined huff.

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

Satoru blinks—the corners of his mouth twitching up as he struggles to keep a straight face. Biting back a grin, he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Right. You got it boss,” he nods solemnly. “I’ll be extra nice.”

There’s a brief pause as Haru narrows her eyes at Satoru.

“Promise ‘toru?”

“Promise.” He taps his chest for emphasis, as if making a sacred vow.

After a long, scrutinizing pause—deciding whether to take his promise seriously—Haru nods, a satisfied “hmmph” escaping her as she plops down beside you with her candy apple in hand.

“No more squishing,” she mumbles around a bite—keeping a wary eye on him.

That’s it—you can’t hold it in any longer. Laughter bubbles out of you, and Satoru glances up, catching your eye with a grin that’s equal parts amused and exasperated.

“Well…” he sighs, as if he’s been given the most impossible mission, “guess I’ve been told.”

ꨄ︎

As the three of you meander through the pumpkin patch, Haru skips along—tugging on your hands and pointing out each new discovery in delight—a scarecrow with a tilted hat, a butterfly fluttering briefly on a tall stalk of corn, a perfectly round pumpkin nestled under twisting vines.

Then, bouncing on her toes, she points toward a massive, lumbering tractor—its green paint chipped and worn, but still carrying an undeniable charm.

“Look, ‘toru! I wanna ride it!” she exclaims.

As Satoru’s eyes narrow on the rumbling machine, you can see the gears turning in his head. Him—a man of luxury and refinement, clambering onto a dusty old tractor?

But after one look at Haru’s eager face, his resolve crumbles.

And of course, moments later, he’s perched on a bale of hay—Haru bouncing with delight on his lap as the tractor lurches to life. The wheels crunch over the fallen leaves, and Haru chatters happily, pointing out every bump and turn in the ride—blissfully unaware of the incongruity of a billionaire on a hay bale.

After the bumpy ride, the petting zoo became Haru’s next paradise. Dashing from pen to pen, her tiny hands pressed against each fence—pointing at each animal with wide-eyed wonder—calling out, “Look, Mama! Look, ‘toru!”

Each discovery sends her gazing up at Satoru with curious eyes, expecting him to know everything about each creature, and he humors her with a quiet patience—kneeling down beside her to answer her endless questions with a tender fondness that tugs at your heart.

But as you’re savoring this rare, serene moment, you feel a subtle shift in the air. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a woman a few feet away, dressed in a cozy autumn sweater and a scarf, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that spills over one shoulder. She’s dressed casual in appearance—completely harmless—but what unsettles you is the intensity in her gaze—a gaze that lingers on Satoru a bit too long.

At first, you try to brush it off. Maybe she’s just admiring him—after all, he’s breathtakingly attractive, and his presence has a way of turning heads even on his most inconspicuous days. But then, her expression shifts, morphing from idle admiration to something sharper.

Recognition.

Your heart sinks as you see her eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. Holding your breath, you hope she’ll just let it go—that it’ll be a fleeting thought.

No such luck.

With a quick, subtle gesture, she nudges her friend beside her, her excitement barely contained. The friend follows her gaze, squinting slightly before her eyes, too, widen in realization. Their quiet murmurs are punctuated by eager glances your way, confirming your worst fear: they know who he is.

The comforting illusion of anonymity you’d clung to here—the precious notion that, for once, you could just be a regular family enjoying a simple day out—begins to fray at the edges, unraveling under the weight of their recognition. No matter how far you venture from the city, from his world of fame and fortune, it seems his reputation is impossible to outrun—constantly creeping back to claim him… to claim you.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly approach Satoru, who’s still kneeling by Haru as she excitedly babbles about the sheep. You crouch down beside him and gently place your hand on his shoulder—catching his attention. Turning to you, his expression softens at the sight of you—until he notices the concern in your eyes.

“They recognize you,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly toward the two women.

Following your glance, a shadow of something unreadable passes over his face as he takes in their intrigued, lingering stares, and for a moment, you feel the hopelessness creeping in—the reality that moments like these are fleeting—vulnerable to the slightest shift in attention.

But then, something shifts in Satoru’s expression—his gaze sharpening with determination as he catches sight of the disappointment settling in your eyes. Glancing around, he begins assessing the layout of the pumpkin patch—searching for an escape route.

Then, his gaze lands on it—a tall, winding corn maze, its entrance just a few yards away, partially hidden behind a cluster of hay bales.

Perfect.

Without a beat of hesitation, he leans in close to Haru—who’s blissfully caught up in a bunny nibbling on some hay.

“Agent Haru,” he intones with mock seriousness, “do you remember our mission?”

Haru’s head snaps up, her face lighting up instantly as she turns to him.

“Yeah!” she squeals, grinning with a spark of adventure.

“Good,” he nods, casting a quick, discreet glance toward the approaching women. “We need to escape without being spotted by those two ladies over there,” he gestures subtly, grinning. “Think you can handle it?”

Haru’s face scrunches up in concentration, and her tiny hands clench into fists as she straightens up. Her expression breaks into one of fierce determination—one that’s both adorable and earnest.

“Yes, ‘toru!” she whispers back, nodding.

With a reassuring smile, Satoru’s on his feet—taking your hand in one of his and Haru’s in the other.

“Hold on tight,” he quips, a smirk playing on his lips as the three of you dash toward the maze.

The moment you break into a run, Haru’s delighted giggles mix with the crunch of leaves underfoot, and soon you plunge into the tall, twisting rows of corn.

You steal a glance back towards the petting zoo, half-expecting to see the curious women following, but the corn closes in behind you like a cocoon, swallowing them from sight.

Satoru’s hand is warm around yours, grounding yet electrifying, and his laughter mingles with Haru’s squeals. With a sideways glance, his eyes meet yours and his grin is wide and exhilarating. Giving you a quick wink, he turns forward again, tugging you along as you dive deeper—daring you to keep up.

“Agent Haru, status report! Any enemies in sight?" he calls out in a mock-commanding tone.

Haru, bubbling with laughter, scans the rows of corn with exaggerated intensity—clutching his hand with fierce determination as her little legs pump as fast as they can.

"All clear ‘toru!" she yells back, brimming with excitement.

In that instant, the lingering worry, the quiet ache of reality, all of it dissolves into the thrill of escape—the magic of this moment. There’s no fame, no recognition, no judgement here; only the unrestrained joy of play, of racing through a maze as though the world is nothing but this stretch of golden corn and laughter.

You weave together through twists and turns—a blur of giggles and hurried footsteps until finally, you reach a small, secluded clearing tucked deep within the towering stalks.

Gasping for breath, you lean back against one of the tall stalks, and after a moment, you let yourself slide down to the ground—pulling your knees to your chest as you catch your breath, the crisp autumn air cooling your flushed cheeks.

Beside you, Satoru braces his hands on his knees, exhaling deeply before he follows your lead and sinks down onto the ground next to you. Though ahead, Haru seems immune to exhaustion. She’s already a few steps away, her eyes wide with wonder as she spots a butterfly lazily drifting through a patch of sunlight. Completely captivated, she crouches down, watching its gentle path—momentarily lost in her own little world.

Satoru’s eyes meet yours with a shared, silent thrill. Nudging your shoulder with his, a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Didn’t know a pumpkin patch would turn into a covert operation,” he exhales.

You laugh, breathlessly.

“Not exactly what I had in mind for a relaxing day out,” you give his knee an affectionate shove with yours. “But… I guess life with you is never boring.”

He chuckles, throwing his head back and gazing up at the autumn sky—a few streaks of orange and pink peeking through the corn tops.

“Well…” his eyes flicker to yours, sparkling with that familiar, teasing gleam. “You did sign up for the full Gojo experience. Adventures, paparazzi, occasional cornfield chases… it’s all part of the package sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“Uh-huh, sure, sure. I just thought it would involve more champagne and less running,” you quip, nudging him playfully.

“Oh, you want champagne?” he grins, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “You sure you can handle it? Remember that first charity gala? You were practically clinging to me by the end of the night.”

Your cheeks flush at the memory, and you laugh, slightly flustered.

“Okay, but did you expect me to be completely unfazed? My first gala, fancy dresses, and…"

The words die on your lips—the memory of that night creeping in; the low lights, the glint of champagne glasses, and then… that kiss. Your first kiss—with Satoru.

A kiss that was completely under the guise of putting on a show for Naoya… though let’s be real, it was anything but pretend.

Satoru’s eyes light up with interest as he catches your hesitation, his smirk widening like a cat about to pounce.

“Go on. Fancy dresses and… what, exactly?” he prompts, a playful drawl.

As he tilts his head with that infuriatingly charming glint in his eye, you know, that he knows, exactly what you were thinking. Ugh. He can be infuriating.  

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

“Nothing! Just… the whole night was… overwhelming,” you mumble, trailing off as you divert your gaze.

A low, amused hum escapes him—rumbling through his chest as his knowing look revels in your embarrassment.

“Overwhelming, huh?” he echoes, grin widening. “Interesting choice of words… considering you were the one who practically jumped me in front of your ex.”

With an exasperated groan, you roll your eyes in protest.

“Well, what can I say?” you sigh, feigning indifference as you rest your head on your knees. “Drastic times called for drastic measures.”

“Mmm-hmm, sure, keep telling yourself that,” he chuckles—dropping his head to rest against his own knees. You hold your breath as his blue eyes catch yours with a quiet, teasing intensity. “But… I’m pretty sure you just couldn’t resist me…” his crooked grin grows, “after all, that kiss was all you.”

You scoff, your cheeks heating as you stretch your legs—trying to hide your amusement. “I think you’re misremembering things. If anything, you were the one clinging to me.”

His laughter spills out, rich and unrestrained. With a content sigh, he follows your movements, stretching out beside you.

“Sure, sure. Believe what you want, sweetheart.”

The comfortable silence settles over you, and you find yourself glancing back to where Haru is still entranced by a butterfly drifting through the sunlight, her face lit with pure wonder.

She’s so… happy. And that fills you with a deep, quiet gratitude. Moments like these are what you’ve always wanted for her. It’s what she deserves, and it warms your heart to know you’re able to give her a day like this.

A sigh escapes your lips, and your voice softens into a gentle murmur as you nod in her direction.

“For a minute there… I really thought we’d have to cut the day short.”

Satoru’s gaze flickers over to Haru, a fond smile softening his expression before he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches for your hand—fingers intertwining with yours, steady and grounding.

“Nah,” he murmurs, quietly but firmly. “Not a chance. Nothing’s cutting this short. Todays about you and Haru.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, melting away any lingering traces of tension as his words sink in, wrapping around your heart like a gentle embrace. You smile, squeezing his hand in return.

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

“Just us,” he echoes, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.

Then, with a soft sigh and a playful glint in his eye, he unclasps your hand to raises both hands to his mouth, calling out to Haru.

“Hey, Agent Haru!” he shouts, “Ready to finish our mission?”

Haru’s head snaps up, her eyes bright with excitement. She breaks into a grin and dashes over, grabbing each of your hands with her small, eager fingers.

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

As the golden light of early evening filters through the trees, the day is winding down, and the three of you start making your way back toward the entrance—weaving through the brightly colored stalls—each one bathed in the honeyed light of sunset.

But then, just as you reach the last stretch of the path, a delighted squeal breaks Haru’s focus the moment her gaze lands on a large, freshly raked pile of leaves just off to the side—a mound of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows stacked high like a miniature mountain waiting to be conquered. Without a second thought, she breaks free from Satoru’s hand—dashing toward the pile with uncontainable excitement.

Zeroing in on the pile, she abruptly halts—her tiny form silhouetted against the colorful heap. You watch curiously as she glances back over her shoulder—her eyes alight with mischief and her cheeks flushed pink from the chill in the air.

Beaming with the thrill of discovery, she flings herself into the pile—a burst of leaves scattering around her in a vibrant whirlwind as she bursts into a fit of giggles.

“‘toru, look, look!” she calls out, peeking up from within the pile. “Come play, ‘toru! Come play!”

Satoru stops, watching her with a raised brow and an amused grin. He chuckles softly, though you can hear the reluctance coloring his tone. Diving headfirst into a pile of leaves? Clearly, that’s a foreign concept for Satoru Gojo—it’s more of that childlike wonder he missed out on.

Noticing his hesitance, you step up beside him—giving him a teasing nudge with your shoulder.

“C’mon ‘toru, afraid of a few leaves? Don’t tell me the ‘perfect’ Mr. Gojo is worried about getting a little dirt on him?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes—though a smile is already tugging at his lips.

“Afraid? Me?” his hands burrow into his hoodie pocket as he casts you a sideways glance. “Hardly. I’m just… y’know… assessing the situation.”

Biting back a grin, you begin to take a few slow, deliberate steps backwards—inching toward the pile where Haru is waiting as your eyes hold his with a silent dare.

“Assessing, huh?” you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Mmm… I dunno, sounds like stalling to me. Come on, live a little, Mr. Gojo.”

He smirks, but before he can respond, you twirl around and dive into the pile beside Haru—scattering a burst of leaves around you. Your laughter blends with Haru’s giggle as you sink into the softness, and immediately, she reaches for a handful of leaves—tossing them up in the air so they flutter down like confetti.

Satoru tilts his head, grinning but not budging as the kaleidoscope of autumn colors rain down upon you both. But Haru? She’s not about to let him sit this one out.

Peeking over her shoulder, her eyes immediately set back on Satoru, and her expression morphs into one of adorable determination.

“’toooooru,” she whines, wide eyes practically glowing with hope. “Pleeease. Come play!”

Oh, Haru. He’s powerless against her persistence—and perhaps, against the joy that radiates from the two of you in that pile of leaves. With a theatrical sigh and a reluctant grin, he finally pulls his hands from his pockets.

“Alright, alright,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and makes his way towards the leaf pile.

Standing at the edge of the pile, he kneels down to brush his hand over the crisp leaves—and then, with a sudden burst of resolve and dramatic flair, he lets himself fall back into the pile—flopping down as the leaves scatter around him. Haru wastes no time throwing herself on top of him.

An exaggerated grunt slips through Satoru’s lips, and Haru bursts into laughter as her small hands begin to bury him under a layer of vibrant foliage.

“Oh no!” he lets out a mock gasp as she buries him deeper. “I’m being buried alive! Save me!”

Haru’s laughter bubbles up, uncontrollable and infectious, as she adds even more leaves. “Stay still!” she scolds through her giggles, patting the leaves around his arms. “Don’t move, ‘toru!

“So, I’m supposed to just lie here and accept my fate, huh?” he huffs in defeat and glances up at her with wide eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t some secret plan to take me out?”

“Shhh!” she grins, putting a finger to his lips. “Magic leaves.”

“Oh, magic leaves? Well, why didn’t you say so?” his eyes glint with amusement as he lies still, trying to keep a straight face, though the laughter in his voice betrays him.

Haru continues to stack leaves atop him with a determined precision, until for a moment, she pauses—her eyes narrowing with that familiar glimmer of mischief yet again, as if she’s calculating her next move. Then suddenly, with a burst of energy, she tackles him with all her might—giggling as she sends the carefully arranged pile of leaves flying in every direction.

“Oh, it’s on!” Satoru laughs, his own grin widening as he grabs a handful of leaves to fling back at her. “You think you can get me like that, huh?”

In an instant, they’re caught in a whirlwind of laughter and autumn leaves. Seated nearby, you observe their playful battle unfold—Haru shrieking with joy as she ducks and scrambles to gather more ammunition. The warmth in your chest blossoms, and you feel almost entranced by the sight before you.

As Satoru’s deep, unrestrained laughter blends with Haru’s giggles, you realize in this moment just how rare it is to see him like this—completely carefree and unguarded. Gone is the man who must always play his part. Gone is the man who so often conceals his true self beneath layers of poise and duty. Here, with Haru, he is simply Satoru—someone who can laugh until he’s breathless and lose himself in a child’s game without a care.

You wonder how many other moments like this he’s missed—the boyish enthusiasm makes it seem almost as if he, too, is experiencing this kind of carefree fun for the first time. And that alone makes this moment feel so precious—something you wish you could capture and keep forever—suspended in time.

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

“Okay, okay! I surrender!” he finally laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat before collapsing back into the pile—his chest rising and falling with exhilarated breaths as Haru cheers in victory.

“Gotcha, ‘toru!” she declares proudly—triumphantly piling more leaves on him. “You’re a leaf monster!”

Satoru chuckles, brushing a stray leaf off his nose as he props himself up slightly. “A leaf monster?” his eyes gleam playfully. “Well… you better be careful then—I might come back with vengeance.”

She squeals with laughter and her eyes sparkle with excitement as she scrambles to her feet. “Ahhh! Go away ‘toru!” she shrieks—darting away to dive into another pile of leaves nearby.

Watching her go, Satoru’s expression softens—a peaceful sigh slipping past his lips as he takes a moment to catch his breath. “She’s got endless energy, doesn’t she?” he murmurs, tilting his head up to meet your gaze.

Your heart flutters at the warmth in his eyes, and you lean back on your hands, letting your own smile mirror his as you watch Haru’s figure disappear into another pile of leaves. “She does,” you breathe softly. “But… I think you’re doing a pretty good job keeping up.”

A quiet hum of contentment escapes him, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. Almost instinctively, he shifts closer, letting his head nestle in your lap as he leans back into the leaves.

“Maybe…” he trails off into a lazy, satisfied sigh. “But I think I’ll take a break right here… if that’s okay.”

As the dappled sunlight filters through the golden autumn leaves above, it casts soft shadows across his face—illuminating the gentle warmth in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, and without a word, you reach out—threading your fingers through his hair, each strand slipping through your fingertips, softer than you expected. He hums, sinking into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as a slow, contented smile spreads across his lips.

Around you, the world seems to quiet, holding its breath. Haru’s distant giggles mingle with the soft rustling of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of peace.

“You know…” you murmur, “I think this is my favorite side of you.”

His eyes flutter open, a flicker of surprise giving way to something unguarded and vulnerable. Slowly, a tender smile forms on his lips as he reaches up, brushing his hand gently against yours.

“Yeah?” he drawls, “Didn’t know I had a ‘favorite side.’”

“You do…” your fingers trace gentle circles through his hair, savoring the feel of each delicate touch. “It’s the side where you don’t have to be anything but… here, with us.”

For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still, as if each word you’ve spoken has wrapped itself around his heart. His gaze deepens, and your breath catches—it’s like he’s seeing you in a way that reaches beyond words. Gently, his hand comes up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear—his fingertips grazing your cheek with a touch so tender it makes your heart ache.

“Guess I didn’t know I could just… be that,” he whispers.

You lift your hand, covering his and pressing it to your cheek. “Well, you can. With us, you always can.”

His gaze holds yours, something vulnerable yet content in his eyes, but then, as if unable to help himself, the warmth shifts into a familiar glint—a spark of playfulness creeping back into his expression. “Alright, alright…” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, “let’s not get too sentimental. I gotta keep up my ‘mysterious’ reputation, remember?”

A laugh spills from you, light and unrestrained, as you roll your eyes in amusement. “Oh, you’re plenty mysterious. Half the time, I still can’t tell if you’re serious or just messing with me.”

He lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back further into your lap as if he’s completely relaxed—the picture of contentment.

“You should know by now…” he murmurs, feigning seriousness as he closes his eyes, “…it’s usually both.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, barely hiding the smirk he’s trying to restrain, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning at his theatrics.

“Well… for the record,” your voice naturally softens, “I think a little tenderness suits you.”

One eye flicks open at your words, his brow quirking as he regards you with amused curiosity. Closing his eye again, his smirk deepens as he nestles further into your lap.

“Oh, does it?” he murmurs lazily, but there’s no mistaking the glint of interest coloring his tone.

“Yup,” you reply, leaning back on your hands and glancing up at the sky with feigned indifference. “I dunno… it’s kinda cute, actually.”

The words slip out like a quiet confession, and you notice the shift in him immediately—a subtle but unmistakable change.

Unable to keep up his act any longer, a bright, satisfied grin breaks across his face as he sits up—lifting his head from your lap—and his fingers slip through yours, intertwining and pulling you near him.

“Cute?” his voice drops as he brings his face achingly close to yours. “Careful now… saying things like that? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

You feel your heart pounding—the thrill of his closeness electrifying as his breath fans your skin, but you hold his gaze boldly with a smirk.

“Well, maybe I like a little trouble,” you whisper back.

A playful growl rumbles in his chest, his smirk deepening as he tightens his grip on your intertwined hands.

“Oh… now you’re really asking for it. You’re officially in trouble.”

In one swift motion, he wraps his arms around you—sending you both tumbling back into the soft bed of leaves. The world around you blurs into a whirl of amber and gold as laughter escapes your lips, filling the crisp autumn air. But as you settle, your laughter fades, leaving only a quiet, shared breath between you and a gentle smile lingering on both your faces.

Hovering above you, his gaze softens as the leaves cradle you beneath their rustling blanket. It’s as though he’s committing every detail to memory as his eyes trace each curve and contour of your face, and you take in a quiet breath as his hand finds its way up your cheek—brushing over your skin and making you melt under his touch.

“Gotcha,” he whispers, brushing his nose gently against yours.

A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your pulse quickening as his proximity becomes all-consuming. Still, you muster a playful eye-roll, though the warmth in your gaze betrays your affection.

“Is this your idea of ‘assessing the situation,’?”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs, eyes softening. “God, you’re beautiful…”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless, and a warmth blooms in your cheeks that reaches all the way to your heart. Before you can respond, he closes the distance—his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft, so achingly tender, it leaves you dizzy.

As he deepens the kiss, a soft sigh escapes you, your fingers finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Each brush of his lips is slow, deliberate—and everything else fades into nothingness, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the press of his lips, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats entwined.

But just as you’re about to melt entirely into him, a tiny voice breaks through the haze of warmth and closeness.

“Hey!” Haru’s voice calls out, stern and unwavering. “Bad ‘toru!”

Pulling back, Satoru groans softly, chuckling under his breath. His gaze flicks to Haru, who stands with her hands on her hips, looking every bit the tiny but fierce protector. He drops his head in defeat, shooting you a look of amused resignation.

“Well, looks like we’ve been caught,” he whispers, brushing a stray leaf from your hair with a soft, lingering touch.

You stifle a laugh, trying to keep your composure as you glance back at Haru.

“We should probably get back to her before she starts scolding you again,” you sigh, rising to your feet with his help.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can handle another ‘squishing’ intervention,” he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both walk back to Haru, who’s watching the two of you with narrowed, all-seeing eyes.

With the sun dipping lower in the sky, it paints the fields in shades of amber and gold. The three of you make your way back toward the entrance of the pumpkin patch—Haru skipping along, her small hands clasped in both of yours as she chatters excitedly about everything she saw—even as the day winds down.

But as you approach the entrance, ready to leave this little haven of laughter and leaves behind, a quiet warmth settles in your chest—a feeling that this moment, this fleeting, joyful day with the people you cherish most, is a memory you’ll carry with you. This is your little family, and it’s worth all the chases, all the whispers, all the adventures.

For now, that’s all that matters.

thanks for reading this special little fall chapter! satoru is such a cutie pie with haru 🥹 i really wanted to have this out before october ended, but alas, my perfectionism kept holding me back 😅 anyways, ch 7 is indeed in the works—that'll be my next post, and it will be out by the end of this month. i appreciate you all being so patient, hope you had a lovely halloween 🎃 -aly 💛

taglist:

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

[ink-perfect]

thinking about...

luffy and the way he is unapologetically full of love. living in an era that craves being detached and playing hard to get, he's a breath of fresh air - so uncomplicated, pure, and just. real.

he has that kind of charisma that can be charmed to lead a fleet, hypnotise a tyrant, or win over an island in a second flat. but the thing is, he doesn't care about any of that. he's not wanting to be cool or a player or anything of that sort; he's just monkey d. luffy, future king of the pirates.

this is a man who would hug you in the middle of a thousand people with absolutely no thought or care, grinning that big goofy grin of his, eyes sparkling with that childlike glee he can always seem to have, because he saw you across the deck. he doesn't do subtlety, he doesn't play games. he's an open book, loud and honest; when he loves, he loves with his whole chest - a hurricane of laughter, a whirlwind of warmth. in a world that has blurred the lines between love and lazy, luffy wears his heart on his sleeve, and it is so damn endearing.

and if there's one thing he sees other than meat, it's you. he sees you everywhere, even in himself: in the sparkle of his eyes at the tone of your voice, or how he will stop mid-bite (a big deal for luffy) just to listen to you talk.

he will let you cry on his shoulder, even when he doesn't know what to say, because sometimes, he understands it's enough to just be there.

he's one of those guys who's always chasing adventure, always running toward the horizon, yet without you even realising it, he had been bringing you along this endless journey, his hand clasping yours. you are sewn into the tapestry of his dreams, tucked between the discovery of the one piece and the thrill of the next battle. not to woo or prove anything to you, but more so because you have become as integral to him as the sea breeze at his back or the open expanse of ocean before him - freedom he holds so dear.

for luffy, love isn't about dramatic gestures or sweet words, though he does make a point of doing those for you as well.

it's more in the way he reaches out and snatches your hand up, yanking you off after him toward some mad new adventure without any afterthoughts. in the way he laughs with you into the dead of night or always manages to keep a place open beside him at banquet even when the food's all but gone (because of him, of course).

it's in the silent promise of his loyalty, as unwavering and steadfast as tides pushing his ship toward unknown shores.

and the crew? they, too, see this, no matter how observant they are. zoro, blind to everything but his training, and nami, with eyes that just always know, both notice the beauty of your connection to the same degree despite their disparity in intuition. they see how instinctively you two move toward each other, faces lighting up before a single word is even exchanged. even sanji has stopped teasing, not because he's run out of one-liners, but because he's actually, surprisingly, impressed at the sheer power of your love. usopp sometimes seriously wants to take notes for kaya after seeing just how enamoured the two of you are by each other.

and that is what it's all about: it is all so real with luffy: no games, no masks, no holding back. all or nothing, and with you, it's all. even during the filler episodes of your life, he is still there, soaking your presence like the sun seeping through sails.

to be loved by luffy means to be taken along in his world, the joy he feels is your own, the laughter yours mingled with his, carried off on sea breeze. it means knowing that no matter where the grand line may take you, or what dangers may come your way, there's always that simple, sincere smile waiting to greet you on the other side of the storm. and somehow, it will always be enough.

── ౨ৎ masterlist

[ukiiseikou]

you know i fade to grey without you.

kazuha kaedehara x gn! reader, figure skating au.

a/n: soooo y/n is kinda a flop in this one, and the pacing is kinda all over the place. this was my first ever piece i wrote (despite being published after the scara one) so please excuse everything wrong!! thank you! part of complementary figures, 2/? read wanderer's here.

you used to be good at figure skating. now? not so much. your body was taller and your limbs less under your control. a car crash sealed the deal, and your legs never really felt like your's anymore.

junior world champion used to be a title you had, but now? top ten at sectionals was often out of reach, much less any big international podiums. you settle with entering yourself into those small challenger cups, and if you're lucky, manage to snag a medal or two.

at least you never gave up on it.

your coach says its a good thing - your tenacity and grit, but even you can tell her hugs has become more fleeting and more like pats on the back over the years, dismayed at yet another two-footed or unlanded jump. you see how the skaters in the later groups looked at you - or more like, not looked at you. you were way under their league, an insignificant number on the scoreboard, a grey spot at the bottom.

you know figure skating. the feeling of ice against blade, the gliding, the wind in your face, the way the world around you blurs as you spin and launch yourself into the air. even the drowsy, orange tinted memories of watching mao asada's triple axel on repeat in the car at 5am, and the biting ice of the bath you have to lower yourself into at 1 in the morning, replaying your mistakes on the small screen you grasp between your hands. four years ago, you've said you wouldn't have it any other way. but those were bygone days, and now you were barely scraping by.

kazuha kaedehara, on the other hand, is figure skating's golden boy.

you remember how the commentators yelled over the broadcast as the last notes of his free skate sounded, the way your own teammates launched themselves out of the white plastic chairs crowded around the small TV and erupted into cheers and whoops. you swore you saw your coach wipe away a tear. the energy was electric, and even you felt your fingers tingle and your feet itch as you focus on his figure, his costume bright red against the white of the ice.

"oh my goodness, what even was that skating? spectacular! impeccable, just impeccable. why, i say we'll be seeing an olympic gold medal around his neck in three years. yes! kazuha kaedehara from inazuma, what a wonderful showing! a pure figure skater, the consistency, the artistry, the technical mastery, the interpretation. my friends, this is a one in a lifetime talent!"

praises like this echoed throughout the figure skating world for the next two years, and you heard it first-hand every single time. for some reason, despite being ranked number one around the entire world, kazuha kaedehara finds it in his heart to bless the smaller competitions you were at and take away the medal of some poor kid who only wanted to get some international recognition.

you've seen him so many times that he says hi to you in the hallways now (even though he probably doesn't even know your name). flashes that sweet smile that's captured the hearts of thousands across the globe in your direction as he tilts his head. you always settled for a nod and a smile as well, before brushing past him. this time, you faintly hear him call after you, shouting good luck, and you simply wave back in acknowledgement.

boys come later, first, you gotta pull yourself together.

you've been skating for your entire life now, but the chill of stage fright still gets to you. the feeling of your throat closing up as the speakers boom your name, you hop, gliding in a circle as you approach your starting position. you breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth.

the first few notes of your music start, and for a moment you panic as your foot roots itself to the ice. but your body moves on its own, your arms flying into the air as you push off your blade. the feeling melts away into pure adrenaline as you make your first round across the ice rink. this is it, your most difficult jump, the one you've never landed properly since the crash. you've done this before - four years ago, you can do it again.

you stare at the spot of ice you'll take off from, faintly, you think to yourself of how kazuha kaedehara probably does the triple axel in his sleep, but the thought is quickly swept away as your body twists forward. there's no time. your leg rises and the dark blue seats, dotted with spectators, blur into lines. you're in the air, wind whipping in your ears.

you make contact with the ice, but lurch forward. fuck. you desperately try to save it by bending your knees, but no luck. you pitch forward and your face nearly hits the ice as your arms and hands brace for impact. a wave of disappointment washes over you as you pick yourself up. you can't even hear the music anymore, relying purely on muscle memory as you skate through your program.

you can see and hear it all already: the wince in the commentators voice as he comments on your incorrect entry or off-centre axis; that one fan that's been following you forever probably just fell to his knees; the newspapers that only the people from your hometown reads - "y/n l/n cannot deliver anymore"; your coach who turns away with a hand over her eyes; your mother trying to contain the sigh that ultimately escapes from her lips.

a wave of disappointment washes over you, but you've got two minutes of program left, and at this point you're just happy you finished alive and with no broken bones, even with two falls and a downgraded spin. as you bow, you see him, bright red against the blue seats of the audience, clapping.

he's insane.

"y/n l/n, i just don't understand," your coach murmurs, after the quick squeeze she gives you as you step out of the rink, out of breath, "you hit it all in practice, it is just - the nerves, my dear? what is it? are your knees hurting again? we'll work on it, okay?"

it's always the same questions, the same disappointed look before she collects herself at the kiss and cry and pats you on the arm, handing you the jacket you've had for years now. the little girl behind you hands you a grey and white cat plushie that she picked up from the rink, and you smile at her, holding up the plushie to the camera as a pang of bitterness settles in your gut.

you and your coach exchange tight smiles before the camera. your coach's eyes turn to squint at the screen that displays your score. you settle instead for playing with the ears of the cat, waiting to be defined by a few set of numbers again. you finally hear your name announced, but you don't even look up to the display, you can only nod with finality as the speakers blare out your score for the whole venue to hear - not enough to qualify to the free skate. it feels like a guilty statement as it hangs over you like a dark cloud.

your coach pats you on the back absentmindedly, before standing up to fuss over your teammate, the one who will probably make it into the free skate.

you wave at the camera before it, too, turns away from you in urgency as the next skater takes to the ice. you tune out the polite applause as you stand from the seat, feet tired and head heavy.

it's always like this. you, washed out against the colours of the arena.

as you turn the corner in the hallways, you see him again.

"i just saw you - in the stands. how - how did you get down here so fast?"

"you were standing there for a really long time, got me worried a bit, actually," he smiles apologetically, "sorry, was that weird?"

"no - i mean, thanks for worrying," you do what you always do, angling your body to brush past him, but his words stop you.

"i liked it - your program."

you raise an eyebrow at him, and when you turn around you're startled by his bright red eyes.

"but i fell, like, twice," you break eye contact, averting your eyes.

you can see his arms move as he shrugs, "things happen. but i liked it. i really like the way you skated. did you choreograph it yourself? i think i saw that listed in your profile."

your eyes snap up to meet his, and he has the same smile that he shows everyone - sincere and charming.

"you read my bio?"

he lets out a gentle laugh, "sorry, i don't mean to be weird. i just - always liked your programs. i was wondering who choreographed them, then i saw it was you. it clicked! only someone who knew the music in and out could skate like you."

"i don't think anyone would want to skate like me," you give him a bitter smile, squeezing the cat between your arms, "but thanks."

he shook his head, "i was there at the junior championships, in the audience - when you won gold? i always wanted to skate like you."

you frown, "you're world number one."

"and i'm a terrible choreographer," he supplies helpfully.

"i don't think i should be your golden standard," you move to leave.

"wait! what i mean is - your skating, it’s... colourful. i can't put it into words, it's ethereal, fascinating, human, it changes people," words spill from his mouth and kazuha's hands suddenly grasp your's, eyes wide and shining, "can you show me? how you do it?"

"wait, wait," you blink, and he pulls out of your space, his eyes apologetic, "my skating does not change lives."

"it changed mine," he says quietly, and you laugh.

"sure, i changed the life of olympic favourite kazuha kaedehara! why not."

"no, really," he sounds out of breath, "didn't i say? i saw you. i actually wanted to leave the sport then, i wasn’t making much progress, but you made me want to skate. now that i’m here… i've been entering these competitions so that you could see me. i wanted to catch your attention."

your head feels like it's going to burst. he even looks slightly frustrated at the thought that you might have never noticed him.

your mouth open and closes like a fish, until you finally settle with: "everything you just said was true?"

"everything," he affirms.

you avert your gaze, "fine. this is me taking notice, alright? one lesson, that's all you get, kaedehara."

"hold your hand out more, you look like a flamingo, not a swan," you bark at kazuha, who laughs as he sits on the floor of the ice. you skate towards him, holding out a hand, "and i can't believe you fell on a double toe loop."

"things happen," he shrugs, grasping your hand as you pull him up.

"you asked me for an olympic level program, so put in some effort."

he laughs again, bending down to brush his nose against your cheek, but you push him away, huffing.

"do it again, this time properly."

"do i get a good job kiss afterwards?"

"i'll think about it," you grumble.

one lesson blossomed into something else, and now you've found yourself the partner of figure skating's golden boy, after he unceremoniously asked you one morning as the two of you walked together into the rink.

you finally quit, but not after several conversations from kazuha lamenting the loss of art from the world, but you've become a choreographer, and every new season he cuddles up to you, asking if you can choreograph a piece to his new favourite piece of music. you’ve also realised that kazuha kaedehara does not land triple axels in his sleep, if the sleepy mumblings of "don't fall!" and "ah, blast, i fell." was any indication.

people call his skating ethereal, colourful, life-changing, and all he does is smile at the camera and say "it's because of y/n, they inspire me."

you watch as he picks up speed from the far end of the rink. you're going to be busy this season, helping the younger ones with their programs. so, the next time you see him, he's at the olympics. his costume bright red against the white of the ice.

he points at you when he finishes, panting and out of breath. he laughs as he sees you clap, your dream blazing alongside his own. right now, even at the top, no other person matters, you're the one who brought colour into his life, after all.

guys... if shit sucks, hit the bricks!!! real winners quit! please ♡ and ⟳ if you enjoyed thank youuuu please support your authors!

[blaacknoir]

*cracks knuckles* Here we go. Homelander and DID.

Opening Notes

If you have any questions about systems, this post, my system specifically, or if you just want to know every single thought I have ever had about Homelander and Mirrorlander in general, shoot me an ask!

Notes on Systems

A body that has more than one person in it is a system. You see this a lot in fiction. Sometimes it's fantastical, like Atem and Yugi (YGO). Sometimes it has a more realistic basis, like Kevin and his system (Split, Glass).

Systems can be split into two categories: Endogenic, meaning that the system did not form as a result of trauma. My system, the one I'm a part of, is endogenic. The members developed as the result of roleplaying and a whole bunch of autism. Systems that formed as a result of trauma are called traumagenic. Systems where the origins are sort of hazy, or are a bit of both, are called mixed origin. Some systems like this prefer the term quoigenic.

Please note that in neither of those instances did I use the word "DID."

I do not lose time as part of my system. All of us can talk to each other and share knowledge quite easily. There is no dissociation. DID requires all of these things.

Assuming that Homelander (HL) and Mirrorlander (ML) are, in fact, a system, they do not have DID. I do believe they're traumagenic--Antony Starr himself said that HL created ML as a kid to be a sort of mother/father/friend to him.

I believe that Homelander and Mirrorlander are part of the same mixed-origin system, and that they do NOT have DID.

More under the cut.

Notes on Homelander's System

We see Homelander and Mirrorlander communicating quite well, actually. It's a whole big Thing, even. We don't know what extent the mirror plays in their communication--if they need the mirror to communicate or if it just helps them communicate or if this is just how Kripke chose to show it--but they communicate clearly and easily.

I think it's also safe to assume there's no dissociative barrier between the two. When ML is talking, HL seems to be aware of time passing. There's also no mention of any "gaps" in his memory or "missing time."

We do see him dissociate, but that isn't necessarily tied to the system. Given his childhood in general, I think it's normal.

Now, why do I think he's mixed-origin instead of endogenic or traumagenic? Because HL created ML (something generally associated with endogenic systems) to deal with the trauma of being raised as a lab rat. That blurs the line a bit. Hence, mixed-origin.

Final Notes

This post is based on personal research, a small bit of headcanon, personal experience--both as a system and in system spaces--and a general love of the show. To me, one of the most compelling things about Mirrorlander is that he doesn't fall into the "evil alter/headmate" trope, something which dates back literal centuries (Jekyll and Hyde being the earliest one most people know). This is a man who was created to protect HL, and genuinely believes that he's doing his best. To me, this is a refreshing change.

S3 was a fucking shitshow, but HL/ML was amazing. I really hope we see more in the upcoming season.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

His Partner (Part 1): Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

synopsis: no one dares touch Redcliff's girl. he's the only one who has permission.

wc: 926

tw: angst

masterlist

You hear him before you see him.

Big, clomping footsteps paired with long strides - you'd know the sound of his arrival anywhere. Especially here, in the brothel.

There's a pause at your door, and you look up from the mountain of paperwork to watch the door creak, maybe. To watch him stride in and take claim to his domain once more. But all you're met with is a timid knock. Odd.

"Come in," you mutter just loud enough for him to hear outside of the door, then return your eyes to the papers, pen poised to initial on the documents. The door opens slowly, and you catch his scent - which always preceded him - before you see his shoes step through the door. You try not lose yourself in the smell of expensive cologne, focusing on the blurring words in front of you with extreme concentration. "Wonderful of you to stop by, Redcliff."

"I got your message." You drop the pen in exasperation and look up at him, noting the out-of-place look he's giving you. Why the hesitation now? Wasn't this where he showed his strength, his dominion?

"I need you to sign the lease renewal and the checks for the previous month's utilities." Keizo nods, standing in front of your desk with his hands stuffed in his bomber jacket pockets. "Is it cold in here?" You wonder, standing up from your seat and moving to the thermostat.

"No," he answers quickly, walking closer to the desk. "It's fine."

"Good," you quip, turning the heat down. "The girls complain about the temperature all the time." You take another look at the man, his ice blue eyes looking at you intently. "What?"

His lips quirk at your snapped remark. "The papers?" Your feet carry you back to your desk and you quickly push the items over to him, sliding the cheap pen across the space before turning to your computer.

"Backdate the checks." He bends over to take the pen in his massive hands. You clench your mouse a little tighter.

"You're upset."

"No," you answer. "Not at all."

"You're being short with me."

"I just need you to keep your end of the business running."

"Well," Keizo sighs. "I'm here now."

"Three months too late," you grunt, typing away at an email before sending it off. Keizo's since stopped signing.

"It's been that long?" You turn your head toward him, a scowl marring your features. Keizo looks at you with empty eyes, and your skin bristles.

"Do you not know how long you spend away from this place?" you inquire nastily. "Three months and we've been festering without your presence."

"I thought you had control--"

"To a point," you gripe, gripping the armrests of the seat as you sit back in the office chair. "I can't fight off the men who come and harass the girls every single time." Keizo's face screws up in confusion. "Of course, you didn't know. You only show up when it suits you to fuck and leave."

"I'm here now," he repeats, but this time it sounds hollow, almost like he doesn't believe it himself.

"Just finish signing so you can disappear like always and leave me to do the dirty work."

"I'll send more guys to guard the place," Keizo murmurs, dropping the pen back down on the desk. "I'm sure that'll help with some of the issues."

"And can you be on time with the rent?" you add, defeated.

"You need to start paying those bills online," he retorts, straightening up.

"I'm not going to do that. You know people can hack into--"

"It's the business bank account--"

"You can't seriously think that shit is sec--"

"And a check in the mail is? Come on, y/n--"

"Everything okay in here?" you both hear, watching a blonde head peek past the doorframe.

"We're fine," you both say at the same time, suddenly realizing how loud you'd gotten. The door shuts once more and you sigh, slumping in the chair.

"What's this really about?" Keizo whispers, leaning a bit closer to the desk. "You haven't been sleeping well. And my absence has never really... bothered you. You keep busy while I'm away, I'm sure. What's different this time?"

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you scoff. Keizo points at the half-empty prescription bottle on the nighttable in the corner of the room, near your bed. You look away and shrug.

"Talk to me." Keizo reaches out to turn your chin toward him, and you shiver. He looks so earnest, so concerned... "Whatever you have to say, I can take it." You try to hold back the flood of emotion, but it comes out in a rush.

"Last time you were here, you left me alone. You didn't even say goodbye, you just up and left and--" You almost choke on your words. "I felt so used, so discarded, and you didn't even... I felt like a cheap whore."

"You're not a whore," Keizo murmurs, shaking his head. You swallow hard as he walks around the desk, crouching down to look you in the eye and holding your hands in his. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I thought would be easier - that you preferred it that way - but I see I was wrong." You nod, and he stands up, holding your chin in his palm. "That's my girl. All you needed was for me to show up, huh?" You nod again, and he smirks. "Don't worry, babe. I'll make things right."

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.

IX.

https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE

Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.

You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.

|||

It was you and me, it seemed to last forever

The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.

|||

“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.

“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.

|||

I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.

|||

Satoru was fucked.

—————

The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.

He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.

With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.

After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.

You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.

“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.

Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?

-

“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.

“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.

Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.

You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.

“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.

-

https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4

|||

She's given up, been holding on for way too long

She's had enough

He's coming home again

But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him

|||

The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.

Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…

As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.

Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.

Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.

|||

Are we just ghosts out in the night?

Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?

Are we just faking or is this real?

'Cause I don't know how to feel

Are we just ghosts now, you and I?

|||

Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.

Guilt…

Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.

The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.

He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.

But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.

What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.

After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.

What?…

Did you think he was going to stop there?

Absolutely no, love!

If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.

“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”

—

“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.

Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.

“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.

You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.

After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.

You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.

-

Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?

Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?

After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.

(Almost an hour later)

Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.

Well, this complicated things… a lot more.

————-> Chapter 10

———————————-

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

[boobz-fye]

A picture is worth a thousand words

Matsukawa Issei x (Fem) reader -that has a young daughter

^Angst to Fluff

Warnings: Daughter's biological father isn't in the picture (I don't know if that needs a trigger warning but whatever), very little mention/actions of manipulation, mention of blood, mental breakdown, other than that just fluff.

Word count: 747

Note: this might be bad cause I wrote it in the middle of the night, but I really wanted to get something out cause I disappeared for like a week lmfao. I really wanted to write for Matsukawa because I haven't done anything for him yet, and this originally was going to be a story about him cheating on you but I decided agents that because I'm writing Tanaka angst at the moment and I need a little bit of fluff to keep me sane tbh. Also I'm sorry that this is so short but I hope you still enjoy!!!

You slam your phone down on your desk, feeling rage spread through your body like a rapid fire. All because for some reason your ex wants custody of his daughter back, the same ex that got you pregnant and then left you for one of his side hoes, the same ex that refused to take any responsibility for the child, the same ex that got another girl pregnant after you, and the same ex that didn't want to be “anywhere near that thing once it comes out”. Not only does he have the audacity to try and pry his way back into your daughter's life, but he also is trying to get into yours. Telling you how he missed you, and he didn't understand where everything went wrong. This trick would have probably worked on you when you were pregnant, naive, and vulnerable. But not now, you have a whole new family thanks to him. Finally finding someone that cares for your daughter like she's his own blood. Matsukawa had taken you and your daughter under his roof when you were kicked out of your apartment, and after some months living together you both started catching feelings for eachother. Which had bloomed into a beautiful relationship and gave your daughter the father figure that she deserved.

The rage inside of you slowly dissipated and turned into sorrow. The bad memories of your past fill up your head and spill out through your eyes. Heavy tears run down your face and blur your vision. Not looking at where you are walking, you trip over your own feet and crash on the ground, taking everything on the table next to you with. All of your emotions started to control your body making you want to throw a fit like a little kid, so you did. You pick up the things that crashed on the ground with you and throw them at a wall, without giving it a single thought. A couple minutes later and now you find yourself in a room of broken antiques and shattered glass. You look down at your hands to see little cuts with blood trickling down them. But before you could worry about that you see a perfectly fine picture frame laying on the ground in the corner of your eye. Still not feeling fully satisfied with damage you have already done, you crawl over to it. But before even thinking about picking it up and throwing it, you look at the photo inside of the frame. You feel your chest get a little heavy and a knot twist in your stomach. The photo is of you, Mattsukawa, and your daughter when you first moved in together. The smiles on all of your faces, and the way Mattsukawa held you and your daughter made more tears start to clump on your lashes and slowly fall down. You can't even bring yourself to touch the photo, not wanting to get blood on it. You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the door in front of you creek open, allowing the head of a familiar man peek in. Only to hear “Y/N?” fall off his lips and take you out of your thoughts. You look up into Matsukawas eyes and feel a little bit of fear creep into your heart. He looks around the wrecked room and then looks back down at you, only to see you spilling the rest of the tears you had down your face. “Oh no babe, don't cry.” he says walking towards you, and proceeds to kneel down. “What happened here?” You try to explain yourself but everything comes out inaudible. But that doesn't seem to bother Matsukawa, cause as you look into his eyes with your tear filled ones all you see is love, just like the ones in the picture. He pulls you into his arms and rubs your back, not minding the snot and blood collecting on his shirt. You lay there and slowly let your body rest, all of the crying from earlier took a big tool on you helping your eyes close. Starting to get drowsy you couldn't focus on what Matsukawa was saying, something like “beautiful” and “love” you cant tell, maybe you can ask him tomorrow. You take in one breath full of Issei's cologne and drift out of consciousness, knowing that in the morning you will be able to wake up to those same loving eyes looking at you.

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (2/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 2: The church

Y/n puts the vehicle in gear carefully making a U turn and starts down the road in a westerly direction. Her original plan was find refuge in one of the larger towns along North Florida’s citrus belt such as Lake City or Gainesville- still seems viable despite the fact that the engine continues to ping and complain- something has come loose during the plunge to the woods and she doesn't like the sound of it. They need to find a place to stop soon look under the hood, get their wounds looked at- rest maybe, maybe find some provisions and fuel.

“Hey look!” Nick speaks up from the shadows of the rear seats pointing off to the Southwest at the end of the lot.

Y/n drives another 100 yards or so and then brings the Escalade to a stop at the gravel shoulder. She kills the engine and silence crashes down on the car’s interior, it’s almost deafening. Nobody says anything at first- they just stare at the road sign in the middle of the distance. It's one of those cheap translucent white fiberglass ones, set on wheels with the big removal plastic letters still bearing the words “Calvary Baptist Church all welcome Sunday 9 -&- 11.”

Through the spindly Cypress trees and columns of pine that line the road, she can see the luminous white gravel of a deserted parking lot. The long narrow lot leads to the front of a building, it's broken stained glass windows partially boarded up. Its steeple caved in on one side and scorched as if its seen a bombing raid. She stares at the huge steel cross at the top of the steeple- which is covered with a patina of rust- has come loose from its moorings.

It now lays upside down dangling by the remains of its rotted hardware. She can't help but get very still while gazing up at the ruin upended cross, the symbolism isn't lost on her but it may only be the beginning. She never been one for religion but realizes that this may very well be a sign that they've been left behind and this is the rapture and the world is a purgatory now. They’ll have to deal with what remains like junkyard dogs or vermin stuck in a sinking ship.

“Remind me”she says almost under her breath not taking her eyes off the building in the distance one of the windows in the rear has a dull yellow incandescent glow, behind it the chimney is spewing a thin wisp of smoke into the lightning sky.

“how much ammunition did y'all manage to scavenge before we left Calhoun?” the two young men give each other a quick look

Nick speaks up “I have one of the 33 round mags for the Glock and a box of two dozen .380s for the other pistol and that's it..”

“That's more than I managed.” George grimaces “all I managed to grab ammunition wise is what was in the office which I think it's like 6 rounds, maybe 8?”She picks up her Glock from the seat counting the number of times she's fired since they left Calhoun she's got six rounds left.

“All right gentlemen ... I want you to bring all of it, all the hardware locked and loaded.” she opens the door “and look alive…”

The two men get out of the vehicle and join her in the Golden light of the dawn. Something is wrong, Nick notices His hand are shaking as he injects a fresh magazine into the hilt of his pistol

“Y/n, I don't understand” he says finally.

“what are we loading up for? I doubt there's anything in there but scared church people. What are we doing?”

But she's already started down towards the church- her Glock is gripped tightly in her hands, arms dangling at her side like a calling card.

“It's the end of the world boys there's no such thing as church anymore it's all up for grabs…”

The two young men glanced at each other for a moment before hurrying up to catch up with her. They approached the property from the rear, through the grove of sickly eucalyptus trees that mark the outer edges of the churches lot. She can smell the stench of menthol and ammonia in the air as she creeps across the weed whiskered gravel, careful not to make too much noise when her boots crunch under the stones. The light in the chapel's rear window has dwindled with the morning sun and the roaring of crickets fade now, the silence returns over making her heart throb in her ears.

She pauses behind a tree about 20 feet away from the lighted window ... With a few quick hand signals she rouses the two who are hiding behind a nearby oak. Nick moves out from behind cover carrying the pistol against his solar plexus like a vestigial appendage. George moves behind his friend wide eyed and jumpy flinching at the twinges of pain. These two are not exactly the crème de la crème in the world's new survivor class she realizes but perhaps she should see these young men as they truly are. Loyal partners, and friends- surviving all the same.

She issues another signal stabbing a finger at the rear of the building. One by one the three of them move toward the small woodside annex off the rear of the Chapel- she’s in the lead her pistol now gripped in both hands, now pointed downward. The closer they get the more the sun rises over the horizon the more they realize something isn't right. The windows of the building and rectory of the deacons quarters are lined with aluminum foil. The screen door has been ripped off its hinge and the inner door is nailed shut and crisscrossed with lumber. The stench of the dead permeates the air and gets stronger as they approach. She reaches the building first and she gently stands with her back against the boarded door signaling the others with a the tip of her finger to her lips.

They approach as quietly as possible, stepping lightly over the trash and dead leaves that are skidding across the back of the deck in the morning breeze. George stands just behind her, while Nick keeps to her side, both keeping weapons at the ready. She reaches down to her scuffed boot and pulls out a 12 inch Randall knife from the interlining. She carefully wedges the point under one of the boards near the door latch and Yanks.

The door probes stubborn. She pries at it repeatedly with the knife making more racket than she cares to but she has no choice they would make even more noise if they had tried to break through one of the windows. The nails give slightly the creaking sound amplified and the hushed daylight. She has no idea of what they're about to find inside this building but she fairly certain now that both humans as well as the dead inhabit this place.

Zombies don't build fires and the average survivor with the access to soap and water doesn't usually smell like death. The door finally gives and the two men moving closer to her, guns up now as they enter at the same time. They find themselves in an empty room illuminated by dim yellow light and the smell of stale smoke and Bo smacks them in the face. She crosses the floor, her boots making the floorboards creak. She makes note of the small potbelly stove still radiating the heat of the dying embers, the braided rug stained with blood, a desk littered with teabags, dishes, candy wrappers gossip magazines, a few empty 44 bottles and crumpled cigarette packs…

She goes over to the desk and looks down at the display of playing cards arranged in the classic poker pattern it looks like somebody, likely a hand full of people, were here only a moments ago and left in a hurry. A noise from behind the inner doors suddenly takes her attention. she whips her head around to the source, both men stand across the room gazing sheepishly back at their leader.

Again she puts a four finger to her lips giving them the signal to hush. The two mens eyes are aglow with nervous tension, on the other side of the door shuffling noises build, the telltale sound of dragging feet. There's also the reek of mortified flesh almost as pungent as the methane and it's getting stronger. She recognizes that a number of undead are trapped in an enclosed space. She turns and points to George’s shotgun.

Nick understands that he's supposed to blow the lock off the door and George is supposed to back them both up. Neither young man is very happy about this plan. Nick looks pale and George is drenched in sweat both of them nursing wounds and perhaps even internal bleeding. Neither seem gung ho about fighting off and undetermined number of biters. But she is an irresistible leader and the mere look in her eyes is enough to kill any dissension in the ranks. She holds three fingers up. She begins to countdown. 3, 2-

A loud crack sounds as a rotten hand covered with mold burst through the weak spot in the lumber.

Nothing in reality ever seems to play out the way George imagines it should. He trips on his backward shuffling feet and falls on to the floor. The pain in his ribs explode the injury jostled by the impact and at the same time another pair of hands thrust their way through the busted slats of the door. Looking up he sees she has pulled something from her boot. He watches as a dull gleam of a Buck knife strikes through the air. She drives the blade through the tissue and cartilage sawing through the bone it’s hands flopping to the floor as neatly as tree limbs being pruned.

George watches as he tries to sit up, the back of his throat burns and his body threatens to upchuck the paltry contents of a stomach. Things are moving quickly now, hands are flopping around him like fish on a boat’s deck, slowly growing still as the electrical impulses from the reanimated central nervous system drains out. George’s vision blurs his mind swimming dizziness gripping him as his wounded lungs labor to get air.

She's already scooped the fallen shotgun from the floor pumping shells into its breach with a single jerk of her arms as she turns back to the door George manage to get himself back up into a standing position kicking the ghastly hands out of the way . She slims a boot into the door and it implodes revealing the interior of a dark Chapel. Nick gets a fleeting glimpse of the sanctuary before the 1st blast shatters the tableau.

What was once a quaint little church with stain glass and pine pews now resembles an arbiter from the 9th circle of hell. The dead number in dozens maybe as many as 40 or 50 most of them chained to the pews with heavy chains. They react to the light of the outer room as if she had just turned over her oktan exposed a colony of vermin.

Insensate faces jerk towards the noise, some are decorated with spiked collars and others have large makeshift cage like muzzles. The scene gives a a sense of some sort of demented zoo or kennel for these reanimated cadavers. Stranger still, in that terrible instant before the first flash of the 12 gauge, it seems like somebody apparently tried to administer these beings after they were reanimated.

In front of each are dead birds morsels, pieces of roadkill or unidentified human remains are scattered in the pews next to each being. The candles still burn in the same sanctuary on the advert stands in the front room on the modest little altar. Somewhere the buzz of a live microphone drones. The air smells of modified sewage perfumed with rancid flesh and disinfected.

Nick gets one final glance at her before the air lights up- the look on her face is a mixture of sorrow, rage, loss and regret. It's the look of someone confronting the merciless abyss. Then the shooting starts.

The first blast flashes and takes the closest cadaver down in a puff of carnal tissue, the shell ripping through the skull and taking a chunk out of the wood above the door. Three subsequent shots happen, making their ears ring. Already covered with blowback her anguished face stippled and splattered, she now moves deeper into the Chapel and starts in on the others.

It only takes a few minutes, the air flashing like a fireworks display as she goes from pew to pew, either vaporizing skulls or thrusting her Randall knife through petrified nasal cavities before the things even get a chance to bite at the air. George staggers towards the open door to get a better view and he notices Nick just in the side Chapel entrance.

She has the strangest look on her face now as she finished off the last of the monsters with a hard quick slashes of the knife the gun has been emptied, 8 shells peppering the wall behind the heaps of moldering flesh. Completely slick with blood, her eyes burning with inscrutable emotions, she almost looks beatific as she dispatches with the last re animated corpse .

For one terrible moment watching this all from the doorway Nick thinks of a woman having an orgasm. She lets out a voluptuous sigh of relief as she impales the skull of what seems to be an elderly woman. The Crone sacks against the back of her Pew, she was once somebody's mother, somebody's neighbor. She may have once baked cookies for her grandchildren search for famous bread pudding add ice cream socials and laid to rest her beloved husbands of 47 years in the Cemetery out behind the rectory .

Y/n pauses to catch her breath staring down at the woman, head bowed for a moment, when all at once she abruptly stops and looks up narrowing her eyes. She cocks her head to one side and listens closely to something in another part of the building at last she fixes her gaze on George and so softly whispers

“do you hear that ?”

@the-wandering-pan-ace

[dreamsapphire28]

Welp writing vampire Mc made want to write werewolf Mc again so here's this idea I've had for a while. This is kinda of a continuation of my last werewolf mc fanfic. This one has an implied, ahem "steamy", scene nothing is actually written in the story, but y'know it's implied that it did happen.

Man I'm in such a monster f*cker mood right now

Everyone: We're in june

Me:

Sharing a secret can truly make two persons grow closer, Akemi and Kengo got along just fine ever since the whole affair with the Ikebukuro Berserkers was concluded, as different as they were those two just seemed to connect, there was also the detail that when they ware banishing the exceptions he had only kissed Kengo but that was secret that Akemi decided to hold onto at least for now. Kengo finding out that Akemi was werewolf had actually improved their relationship, at first he was worried Kengo would start avoiding him or be weirded out by it, but Kengo just looked at him and said 'You're still my partner nothin' can change that' Kengo might never know just how much it meant for Akemi to hear that. So Akemi thought that he might as well take the plunge and confess his feelings for Kengo, he already knew the werewolf thing so a little love confession shouldn't be too much to handle, right?. While Kengo did not turn him down it took him a few moments to process what Akemi had said before he could scramble together a response, in the end Kengo did say yes, through a lot of stuttering and a very red face, but nonetheless reciprocated the feelings, as relieved as Akemi was that Kengo did love him back he couldn't help but think that the way Kengo answered was completely adorable.

Outwardly things didn't change much between them, they still trained together, participated in guild fights, hanged out with their guildmates and classmates and of course Kengo still called Akemi partner. But there were a few note worthy changes like how they always arrived together at their classes and guild meetings, they spent a lot of time in each other's dorm rooms, how strangely easy it became for Shiro to get Kengo to study whenever he told him Akemi would be studying with them.

When it came to showing affection Kengo and Akemi where quite different, Akemi was more verbal showering Kengo with praises and compliments at every chance while also having no sense of restrain always going out of his way to say something nice to Kengo, on the other hand Kengo was more physical hugs, putting his arm around Akemi's shoulders or just quietly enjoying being close to him, he was also in the opposite end when it came to actually expressing his affection, Akemi was quite smooth when he wanted to show Kengo some appreciation while Kengo was a bit more clumsy. Knowing that Akemi was a werewolf Kengo of course helped Akemi sneak out of Shinjuku Academy every night with a full moon, even though Akemi protested that he didn't have to, but Kengo had always been stubborn like that and would't take a no for an answer, even if he had some difficulties when showing how much he cared about him when it came to making sure Akemi was safe Kengo was not willing to back down a single inch.

Spending so much more time together also made Kengo notice that Akemi's more wolfish side was present even when he wasn't turned or even close to a full moon, like how he swore he could almost see a tail wagging behind Akemi whenever they saw each other or how he got "territorial" whenever Akemi deemed someone to be a little too close to Kengo sometimes even growling sometimes, in some instances for Kengo it felt as if he had an overprotective puppy for a boyfriend. Akemi's more possessive behaviours got more intense the closer it got to the full moon while his receptiveness to Kengo's affection became smaller. The time Kengo decided to ask Akemi why he seemed like he didn't even want to be touched when the full moon got close was one of the first times Kengo got to make Akemi genuinely flustered. Akemi told Kengo that as the full moon got closer he grew restless and he got a little too easily "exited" whenever Kengo was near. Of course not saying it outright made the meaning behind the words fly completely over Kengo's head which forced Akemi to use more blunt terms, by the end of the explanation both of them were equally flustered.

At the moment it was late at night Kengo was laying on his back with his hands behind his head on Akemi's bed looking at the ceiling with Akemi sitting beside him, who was reading a book he had opened on his lap "Partner do we really have to to spend the whole night studying" Kengo groaned "We? as far as I know I'm the only one studying, besides I'm not keeping you here you can go do something else if you want" Akemi retorted "But I want to do something with you" Kengo admitted quietly, Akemi chuckled when he heard that "Cute, but I'm about to lose an entire night worth of study in a few days and we have a test coming up" Akemi noted "Sure you can spare one or two nights" Kengo offered "With how unpredictable things are around me? I have no idea when will be the next time I can sit down to review the class material" Akemi pointed out. Even though the idea of going out and doing practically anything else than what he was doing right now sounded tempting to Akemi, with the full moon a mere days away he found himself with a lot of energy to burn it was taking a lot of his willpower to keep himself seated just going through his notes and Kengo being there trying to convince him to do otherwise was certainly not helping him. Kengo could tell that Akemi wanted to leave just as badly as him, Kengo might not be the brightest person out there but he had gotten pretty good at noticing things about Akemi, so he wanted to goad him into doing something that he would enjoy a bit more, Kengo just needed a way to distract Akemi and he had, what he thought to be, the perfect plan. Kengo only had to rile him up enough that Akemi would just agree go do something more fun. Brilliant right?

Kengo sat up and wrapped his arm around Akemi's shoulder pulling the shorter male close to him " C'mon partner don't be such a Shiro" Kengo goaded "Kengo stop that" Akemi whined "We both know you want to stay here as much as I want to, so let's just cut loose for a while" Kengo was sure Akemi was about to cave in, he used his other hand to pet Akemi for good measure, it always helped get Akemi in a good mood when he was in wolf form. Kengo was about to continue to convince Akemi but the words died in his throat when he heard a deep growl coming from Akemi, within the next seconds Akemi had pounced on Kengo pinning him to the bed by the shoulders, Kengo just stared at Akemi in surprise, Akemi looked down at him, lips pulled back in a snarl revealing sharp fangs. Akemi was deceptively strong specially considering the difference in height and build between them, feeling sharp claws pressing down on his shoulders Kengo realised that he had not been dealing with a puppy, he was dealing with a wolf, a predator, one that had been far too lenient on him. As Akemi's now golden eyes bore into him, Kengo tried to speak to calm down Akemi but was again silenced by another growl, now he could only brace himself for what was about to happen.

The next morning Kengo woke up still in Akemi's feeling completely spent, he was also tucked in he couldn't remember ever putting the sheets over him, but to be fair after a certain point the memories of the past night just blurred together, Kengo could also feel someone hugging him from behind, most certainly Akemi. The scene was almost comical Akemi, who was both shorter and had a smaller frame than Kengo was the big spoon, or at least trying his best. After a few seconds Kengo decided to remove the covers and the sight that greeted him was unexpected to say the least his body was littered with claw marks all over his torso, arms and he could only assume his back did not fare any better there were even a few bite marks on his inner thighs, shoulders and neck, at first glance it seemed like Akemi might have let himself go a bit too much, even then as frenzied as he was Akemi apparently took enough care to not be excessively rough since none of the cuts were particularly deep or painful at the moment.

Later at first period in classroom B-2

"Is there something on my face Ryota?" Kengo asked somewhat annoyed with Ryota's constant staring "N-no it's just that you're wearing the uniform jacket" Ryota sputtered out "So what's the deal?" Kengo asked "That you never wear it" Ryota answered hesitantly "He's right Kengo, why would you wear it now of all times" Shiro interjected. Of course Kengo was wearing the academy uniform jacket because he wanted to hide the marks that Akemi leaved all over him, as Kengo had put it earlier when talking to Akemi he looked like he had a wrestle match with a wild animal and loss, though if half the things he could remember of last night did happen he could hardly feel like a looser, he stopped himself before saying that last part out loud in front of Akemi. "It's kinda cold that's why" Kengo lied it wasn't uncommon for Kengo to have scars on him, but the amount he had now would surely raise some alarm, besides there was a very noticeable bite mark on the nape of his neck that Kengo was very intent on hiding "It is, in fact, not cold right now Kengo" Shiro stated matter of factly "You don't have to lie if you just don't want to tell us" Shiro concluded "Awww but I want to know why you suddenly decided to wear it Kengo" Akemi insisted having a very smug expression on his face "Not that it doesn't look good on you, but I kinda like how you look without it" Akemi added teasingly, never before had Kengo wanted to punch a smirk out of someone's face so badly, and that was saying a lot already, Akemi knew precisely why he was wearing the jacket, moreover he had insisted for Kengo to not wear it, Akemi was apparently very proud about leaving all those scars on Kengo, if the the almost five minutes he spent after waking up kissing the bite mark on Kengo's right shoulder and the scratches on his upper back or the way Akemi sneaked glances at the scars he left on Kengo while grinning were hinting at anything. Kengo was about to tell Akemi where he could stick it when Mr. Mononobe announced the start of the class.

Shiro had called for a guild meeting the day before, so now that the classes were dismissed for the day Kengo and Akemi found themselves walking together to the safe house "You're can be a jerk you know that?" Kengo said annoyed "I only gave you my opinion on how I thought you'd look better, I don't see anything wrong with that" Akemi answered with a barely contained snicker "You're the worst" Kengo grumbled "Hey!, i'd be careful if I were you, the full moon is still coming up, you might get a few more scratches if you keep that up" Akemi joked, making Kengo blush "What's the matter, afraid of a good time?" Akemi teased almost giggling "Shut up" Kengo mumbled "Come on I'm just playing with you" Akemi said latching himself to Kengo's arm "I'm very grateful that you wanted to help me, I thought I made that abundantly clear this morning. So even if I'm the worst you should know that you're the best boyfriend ever" Akemi concluded. Even being this embarrassed Kengo could clearly see that Akemi was in a very cheery mood normally this close to a full moon he'd be skittish, borderline irritable and most of all he'd refuse to touch him all together, so in the end his plan to help Akemi unwind had worked, besides Kengo ended up enjoying himself quite a bit too, in the back of his mind Kengo found himself considering the idea of asking Akemi if they should make this a regular occurrence.

[juicylivy]

Comfort

Pairings: Yang Jeongin x Bang Chan

Genre: fluff, angst.

Words: 2.4k

Summary

Jeongin has a horrible nightmare, luckily his boyfriend and members are there him.

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Sleep. It was something that Jeongin liked a lot. Falling into that deep state of mind, where you entered your own alternate universe. It's as if, you've left your own body, but you're still breathing. It's an escape from everything and a thing that calms the mind. Though at that moment it wasn't to him.

He was standing in the middle of a big empty house, filled with furniturs, picture frames hanging on the walls, and different types of plants placed all around the facility. It was a place that should've been filled with the laughter and joy from a sweet family, but it was deserted - not a single sound was heard in that spacious mansion. This was weird. Why was it so silent? Jeongin turned around several times, trying to look for his members. Tried to look for Minho, HyunJin, and Jisung in the living room playing video games, find his boyfriend Chan in his studio working on a track with Changbin, ran towards the kitchen to perhaps see Seungmin looking through the fridge for what could be edible, and Felix who always sat at the table in the dining room, either playing on his phone or writing lyrics. But none of them were to be seen - where were they? Everything was a sad grey color and  A note sat on the kitchen aisle, Chan's neat handwriting scribbled across the white piece of paper. He sighed in relief, thinking that they had gone shopping for groceries, or snacks that they had almost run out off. He also thought that his sweet boyfriend could've found some sort of prank to pull on him. But when he began reading the note, he saw that, that wasn't the case.

"Innie, dearest Jeongin. This is a goodbye letter. JYP-nim couldn't see you fit for the task as the 8th member of Stray Kids anymore due to your lack of enthusiasm and hardwork and honestly, we thought the same. We couldn't picture you in this group anymore because of it. And... This is gonna be heartbreaking and I'm so sorry, but Innie, this is also a goodbye to our 2 years long relationship. It just doesn't feel right anymore for me - you must've felt it too. The spark has died down and trying to keep us together would be a waste of both of our times... I'm sorry Innie, but this is goodbye."

A great shot of shock and immense surprise ran through his body all at once. Thoughts left his mind and he stared into distance. He knew he was lacking in the new comeback, he knew he had some trouble remembering the new dances and with the recording of their new tracks too m, but was that really something he could be thrown out of the group for? Was this a good enough reason for his members, whom he saw as brothers, to agree and leave him without a notice? And most importantly, how was it that Chan suddenly decided to also abandon him? As his leader, lover, and best friend, it was kind of his job to try and find some way to keep him in the group. He knew how much he valued them all and his career.

It had to be a dream. Something as shallow as this couldn't be anything other than a bad dream. He shook off the shock, determined to try and escape this reality. Pain was said to be a good way to break out from a dream, so he tried pinching his arm as hard as he could, and winced as the pain filled his lower left arm. It didn't work. He tried once more, but with biting instead, but that wasn’t helping either. He tried repeatedly with various forms of ways to inflict injuries, but to no avail. He couldn't wake up.

At last he gave up and sat down on the floor up against the wall that connected the living room and the kitchen. Could this be real? Did everyone actually leave him alone? At this point it seemed to be true. He was indeed all by himself.

Slowly the discovery settled in his heart and it broke into tiny puzzle pieces scattered on the floor, not able to be put back together. His body began to shake softly as the tears started running down his face. How had it come to this? After those two years of being a group, after the struggle they all had to go through to debut, they'd seriously get him out of the group, and their lives, just like that? Soon the grief got too great and he couldn't handle it anymore, resulting in him beginning to sob uncontrollably. He wished he could turn everything around and been more into the dance practices and shown more enthusiasm with recording. He wished he could've saved his and Chan's relationship, and seen that the spark was dying. What was he supposed to do now? He was all by himself in that huge empty place with no sounds and-

“Jeongin!”

Someone was yelling for him... What? Gradually the scenery faded, morphing into a blur.

"Innie!" Chan screamed for him, shaking his body vigorously.

Jeongin shot up in bed, tears streaming down his face and little sobs leaving his mouth. He frantically tossed and turned trying to see if he had finally escaped the horror that was his dream.

He had.

Everyone was sat around his bed in his and Jisung's room, worry plastered on their faces. Chan was right in front of him, tears in his eyes. He let out a loud cry and flew forward to cling onto his lover in such a harsh way, Chan ended up coughing.

"Channie!" He cried out. Never in his life had he been so glad to see him.

"Shh, Innie. I'm right here, love," Chan soothed and rubbed his back comfortingly. His was voice groggy from seeing his boyfriend cry out so loudly in his sleep. The others chimed in sitting all around him in his bed, hugging him and telling him reassuring and loving words. Little by little, his crying died down, and he could breath now without hiccuping. Inhaling Chan's sweet cologne helped him calm down entirely and he was at last back to normal. His boyfriend released him from the embrace slowly and stared into his red eyes, a little soft smile displaying on his face.

"Baby, what happened?" He asked with a honey like tone to his voice and caressed Jeongin's cheek.

"Yeah: You got us all terrified there," Changbin said sounding distressed from the left, being one to hug him from behind.

"I almost lost it when I saw you crying here, and not being able to wake you up," Jisung explained, his voice equally as groggy as Chan's, but also saddened. His face dropped a bit, hearing what they felt - he had made them all wake up in the middle of the night, because he had a nightmare. Sure there was nothing he could do about it, but it didn’t feel nice.

Jeongin sighed and gathered up his strength and courage to talk about his horrifying dream. While explaining the dream slowly the room was completely silent, everybody listening thoroughly and patiently to his stammering story of his nightmare. He was feeling awkward talking about it so soon after, but he'd have to tell his brothers this eventually and the fastest way to get over something was to talk it out with someone.

When he finished speaking he looked down at his legs, fidgeting with his fingers. He felt a little uncomfortable with everyone being so quiet and looking at him, but it didn't last long until everybody began to aggressively show him love and affection, giving him all sorts of comforting words and reassurances.

"That's absurd! Stray Kids isn't whole without you! And throwing you out of the group just because you didn't show too much enthusiasm is dumb and shallow." Minho looked angry and perplexed, but his voice was emitting reason and care towards him as he sat in front of him with his feet in his lap. Jeongin was a little taken aback by his exclamation, but ended up smiling, because he knew that Minho didn't intend to invalidate his feelings. He was only sad and hurt by the dream Jeongin had and it was only reasonable he felt that way. 

"Yeah, and Jeongin, we would never agree to such stupid logic. You're one of us and that's how it'll be. We all know that you love us, so if you had difficulties, we would at least try to help you out of it, since we love you too." Seungmin explained, sitting down beside his right hip on the floor, smiling sweetly up at him. He grinned shyly at his words; it was unusual for Seungmin to be that soft. Though he was affectionate around him and a person he could lean on.

"Exactly. You're our maknae, our bean worm, and as your big brothers, who love you, we will always protect you and support you." Felix tightened his arms around his waist, leaning his chin on his shoulder. Jeongin laughed wholeheartedly at the nickname and his worries began fading.

"Baby." Jeongin immediately turned his attention to Chan sitting in front of him, his hands holding his hips. He turned bright red at the adorning look his boyfriend's face held, his deep brown eyes filled with love only for him. "You know I love you more than anything, right?" He carefully nodded while holding eye contact. "Then you know, I wouldn’t leave you. I don't want to be without you, so if you should go away, I would go with you. I'll always be yours and by your side, my love."

Jeongin grinned, being filled with happiness. He knew that, but after what happened just minutes ago, this was what he needed to hear. He leaned forward, pulling Felix and Changbin with him, and pressed his forehead against Chan’s. Both of them were smiling, also when they shared a loving kiss, getting gag sounds and applauds.

“Does this mean we’ll have a sleepover in the living room?” HyunJin asked hopefully, looking around at the boys. Laughter erupted among them at his cute question, but all sprang up and began gathering mattresses, duvets, and pillows. Chan and Jeongin waited with joining them and stood up in each other’s arms. Jeongin’s head was leaned against Chan’s shoulder, arms around his torso. He was getting lost in his embrace until he spoke up.

“I love you, baby. Remember that, if you get another dream about me leaving you, or whatever the situation should be. Just know, that it won’t happen. I won’t leave you.” Jeongin looked up and smiled at him.

“I love you too, Channie. Always. And I’ll try to remember it,” he replied and Chan planted his lips firmly on his again. The kiss was more passionate than any other they had shared, and Jeobgin could feel it all over his body. When they finally broke apart, they took each other’s hands and walked out to the others in the living room.

Chan never left his side. Not even while preparing the sleeping area in the room. When he had to go get more pillows, because they lacked a few, he’d go with him, when he’d get some snacks from the kitchen to cozying up with before bed, Chan was right behind him. He was like his little puppy, and Jeongin loved it. He loved being cared for this much. It filled him with security and joy to know this talented, caring, and loving man was his and his alone.

Settling down into the large fluffy bed that was made in the living room was heavenly. He felt so safe lying in between his brothers and with Chan hugging him from behind. The others were having small talks while eating the chips and candies.

“Thanks guys...” Jeongin spoke up weakly from under the blankets. The members shut up immediately upon hearing his voice and turned to him looking shocked. “Thanks for doing this for me. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime man, we love you!” HyunJin giggled, showing him his famous eye smile and Jeongin couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“No need to thank us. We did this because we wanted to help you and make you feel comfortable, but you’re welcome our sweet Maknae!” Jisung replied patting his legs.

“And honestly this also gave us the opportunity to have this sleepover here. I’ve really missed this; all of us being together this close,” Changbin said thoughtfully, making people snicker. “Not that we need you to have more nightmares for us to sleep here, but you know!” He quickly saved and everybody began laughing loudly. They started teasing him, making him whine.

“Thanks Changbin,” Jeongin said after they’ve calmed down. Changbin smiled warmly at him and nodded.

“Always here for you, bro.” He pulled out his fist and he bumped it, making the explosion afterwards.

They all decided to sleep to get ready for tomorrow’s work and everyone settled closely together, no one left uncuddled. Jeongin turned around in Chan’s embrace and placed his head on his chest.

“Goodnight Innie,” Chan huskily said, the others tuning in.

“Goodnight everyone.”

This turned out to be the best night he’d had in a while, despite the horrible dream he had.

——

Stray Kids’ manager was walking up the stairs towards the front door of their dorm, early in the morning, making sure the Kids got up and ready for the day. He sighed as he turned the key in the lock and opened the door. It had been a rough night for him and waking up today was hard.

As he was about to yell out a good morning throughout the dorm, he was met with an endearing sight, he hadn’t seen in a long time; the boys had gathered around in the living room, on a huge self-made bed, all sprawled up on each other’s bodies. Warmth spread out in his heart at the view which resulted in an equally warm smile to appear on his face. Something must’ve happened last night to make this happen, because they hadn’t done this in a long time.

Thinking this thought he figured he’d give them the sleep they needed, and he could also use a little rest, leading to him taking a pillow that had been thrown out from the bed and a blanket and lay on the couch above them.

He whispered a small: “sleep well.” and went to sleep alongside them                 

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Occupational Hazards

Barry Berkman x Reader

Three part series: It was just another job, he doesn't even had to kill anyone, but the way she looked at him was more dangerous than the bullets.

Part I Part II Part III

Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: Violence, cursing, blood, mention of abortion, stalkers.

Part III

"Someone got lucky" Natalie said when Barry entered his apartment, she was helping Nick with his lines for an audition and since the first pictures of his relationship with Y/N had emerged she always find an excuse to be near him and ask a million annoying questions "Although is kind of tacky to come to home with the same clothes from yesterday"

"No comment" That usually make her keep her distance but since he took forever to pour himself a coffee she followed him to the kitchen.

"So we were watching the nominations this morning, anything interesting to talk about it?" Somehow even when his job consisted in sell the lie he didn't felt comfortable talking about Y/N with his friends, and specially not that morning. He gave her a deadly glare and just walk inside his room.

Barry left the untouched coffee on his desk and collapsed on his bed, he wasn't tired, and the ideas revolving in his mind would keep him up for long enough.

They have watch several romantic comedies with wine and popcorn and then when they were discussing how impractical and unrealistic they were she apologized to him for the permanent damage that the article would cause in his attempts to get back to Sally, it wasn't strange since they have come to know about each other's past over the weeks, the strange part was that he was not actually concern about it. Sally had become a simple friend and he was sure even had to talk to him more often since Y/N came into his life, but he didn't had romantic feelings towards her anymore.

However the sudden realization that those feelings were gone because of the woman that was curled next to him, screaming at Cameron Diaz to run away from her idiot fiance; made him feel uneasy, he would have prefer to leave, but she was obviously anxious about the nominations the next morning so he agreed to take the couch, but she since she couldn't sleep they open another bottle of wine and start asking questions about each other.

He got to learn that the B&H menthol were her favorite cigarettes, but she was trying to quit and she actually only have one or two every couple weeks when she was to nervous, and he make himself a mental note to buy a package just in case. He told her about his favorite music, and a thing or two about her days in Afganistan, she told her how her mom was dying and her money was not to save her just to help her live her last days in least pain.

She asked about the most terrible thing he ever did and when he couldn't answer she went first.

"Do you want to know the real reason I broke up with Richard?" She said suddenly completely serious.

"You don't have to do that Y/N..."

"I want to, I feel like you have this weight on you and that you think of yourself as a monster, so do I. I may not be the trash human everyone think I am but that doesn't excuse what I have done. I have always hhave friends many friends men and women, and I even like some of them, that doesn't mean I sleep with them but for Richard every men I even talked to was someone I was fucking behind his back" She took one large drink of wine, it was clearly a painful memory "The thing I actually loved him, and I actually saw myself sharing my life with him, he was my agent back then and I could look over her rudeness most of the time... but then I got pregnant" She gave him a sad smile and he could see where the story was going so he remained silent even when he wanted to hold her. "He obviously didn't believe it could be his, and ask me to take care of it, or my life and my career and my mother treatment would be over so I did it. And don't get me wrong I know now that it was the right choice, believing I could have a family with that pig is ridiculous, but it wasn't my choice at the time and I don't know after that I just had to run away from him, I actually sleep with my costar, that's number 3 and use the scandal to break things with Richard, and now I'm here"

He hold her close to him and not thinking he started telling her about Korengal, about Moss and about Mayrbeck, she was comfortable to hold on to, she simply nodded and asked an occasional question about the time those things happened but she didn't judge him, and he eventually closed his own eyes and pretend for a moment that she was not paying him, that there was actually one human being who would love him not only despite his past, but also because of it. Someone who would feel safe enough with him, that she could sleep like that. He wanted to tell her that Sally was nice but she would never accept his truth, and she was like a getaway car, she had been the illusion to be Barry Block and leaving all behind, but her... Y/N came looking for Barry Berkman and she wasn't scared of him, but he also couldn't say it because he knew once things were over she would go back to his life and his little bubble will pop.

And that day was closer than ever, she was nominated as Outstanding supporting actress in a limited series or TV movie, and as she had said she had absolutely no chance to win because Maverick wouldn't let her, but the amount of opportunities that would come after if she get nominated would be enough to find a new agent, and walk away from that life, so she had been waiting to hear her name for months and now that it was finally there the look on her face was enough to turn down all of his precautions and he simply kiss her.

He take her by the neck in the middle of her excitement and simply put his lips onto hers and kiss her like she was the only thing he needed to survive, and he was only recovering his common sense when Y/N hold him tighter and kissed him back with the same intensity, he was happy beyond comprehension but reality find its way to his mind and eventually he let go. Y/N opened her mouth to say something but her phone start ringing with congratulations from her friends and that allowed them to have a minute to settle down.

"Don't worry about the suit, they are probably going to offer you one" She said to him finally after answering the phone the third time.

"Yeah sure, I am so happy for you. Congratulations" He was being honest, but he needed to acknowledge the kiss somehow "I'm so sorry I shouldn't..." for some reason apologizing for something he was not sorry for is what he did.

"Please don't apologize, it was nice, is being a long time since someone kissed me like that, say it was the heat of the moment, or that you simply felt like it, but don't be sorry about it because I'm not" The look she gave him, that's when he knew he was doomed, she wanted him, for how long? who could tell, but he was much of a coward to find out, so he make up an excuse and didn't even touch her when he said goodbye, and just walked away.

Fortunately the next weeks past in a blur, a couple days later their Variety interview was the subject of an angry call from Sally for not telling her, and endless banter and teasing from his classmates wich lead to shaming him into bet on her in Jermaine Emmy's pool.

He had tell the story of how they met more times than he could remember, and there was little to no time to be alone with her, other than the choreographed PDA they had agreed beforehand, and she even had to leave for two weeks to New York for another set of endless interviews, on wich she made sure to get his name out at least once, he watched them and pretend that he was the actual loving boyfriend waiting for her return even when his mind kept reminding him he was not.

He had told her everything and she didn't judge him, and his heart was holding the hope that maybe, just maybe in the end she could be a friend since he felt undeserving of something else, and by the time he was at her place waiting for her to go to the ceremony he had already promised himself he would be there for her no matter what.

The award ceremony was magic in itself, walking next to her on the red carpet and watching her like the star she was in the elegant black gown she had chosen was more than enough for him, but there were also a lot of famous people who surprisingly treated him as if he belonged, and in the middle of that crowd he could finally found a moment of intimacy with her on the way she nervously hold his hand whenever Richard looked their way and when he got upstaged to introduce the Award Y/N was nominated in, he was attractive and charismatic but the smug on the bastard face when he read her name on the nominations and then when he finally said the winner (Zoe Saldana or someone like that) were enough to make his blood boil and mentally mark a bullet with his name on it.

***

"I just lose 300 grand" He whispered in your ear and you could smell a hint of perfume, it was perfect.

"Well next time bet against me, and listen to me when I talk" you fixed his bow tie as an excuse to touch him, he looked unrealistically hot, the tux the hair, even the incipient beard that had started to grow look fantastic on him. "I hate after parties, but Adrian says we should make an appearance and then we can get out of there"

He nodded and you could feel him trembling under your hands, he had been weird since the kiss and you can understand why, but you wanted to reassure him that you didn't give a fuck about his past, that Block or Berkman or whatever you only cared for Barry, that there was something in him that make you feel happy, that he calling out your bullshit was something you needed and that that kiss was the single most happy moment you ever had.

They drove you to the after party and you allowed the crowd to separate you from him while you mapped out in your mind how to talk to him on the way home, and then you felt it, the stench of bourbon and cigars, and a big hand pulling from her arm with strength, you paralyzed for a moment and the promise you had made yourself to kick his nuts the way Barry teach you fly away when he got in the middle of your conversation with a Mexican Director famous for not giving a crap about Hollywood who had a project on Netflix.

"Oh please don't let this man drag you tho those movies actual cinema is here in Hollywood, not paying monthly to watch on your leaving room" He smiled like a hyena and you desperately try to avoid him, but pull you closer and Alfonso simply gave you his card discreetly and walked away. "Quite the spectacle you have put on with the little soldier" he said letting go of your arm, but still blocking your way with his body. "Too bad is about to be over."

"Oh I was not aware you have a saying in when or for how long I am with someone" you spat at him desperately looking for someone to come closer so you could make an escape, but your heart broke when you saw Barry talking happily with whom you assume was his Sally Reed, and you felt alone and defeated and he must have seen that in your eyes because his poisonous tongue kept talking.

"He is good looking I give you that" he said looking in his direction and then back at you holding your chin and you fight with all your strength to not cry right there "But he is just a looser from Ohio, who was caught in the middle of all this glamour" he made a round movement with his hand and then pointed at you "And you are a drinking, smoking whore, you are not going to be the respectable wife of a soldier and retire to live in the suburban house with the white fence. Wake up from your dream Y/N, you need to be with a men who knows how to treat you and how to please you" His hand was on your waist and you felt disgusted by his touch and you cursed yourself for not screaming then and there to fuck off "Tell me little one, does your soldier know how to make you scream? Or does he bore you to death in bed" He was drunk it was obvious and you could feel his breath approaching you and could anticipate his movement, he was going to kiss you.

"Well I haven't recieved complaints" Barry's voice take you out of your trance state and you move away from Richard, he had put his hand on his shoulder and was pressing him steadily in his place, he was way taller and Richard almost look funny next to him "But we hardly ever make it to the bed do we babe?" He possessively take you by the waist and pull you away from him straight to his lips and kissed you voraciously, something that people around you actually notice because you could hear a couple of whistles.

"Are you okay?" He whispered quiet enough so only you could hear and you nodded yes "Such a pleasure to meet you finally, Barry Berkman" He offered his hand and Richard took it trying to put out his charm again.

"The famous Barry, so you are the man taking away our beautiful Y/N to make her a decent woman" He teased you again. You were no longer shaking and Barry's presence gave you courage.

"I think is the other way around" You search inside his jacket for a pack of cigarettes you saw him put there earlier an took one to your mouth "I'm trying to make this beautiful man and indecent creature" Barry quickly offered you fire and then he looked to Richard who was obviously angry at him.

"And you are succeeding honey, anyway I'm going to have to take her away for good, bye Richard" He didn't give him a chance to respond and you were already walking towards Sally, she was there as the plus one of her costar in Richard's movie and she was a lovely person, who only wanted to reassure you she and Barry were done, offered you her friendship and asking for acting advice.

"You want to get out of here?" You said once you have talked to almost everyone but this time Barry make sure to not leave your side in case Maverick come close again.

You walked outside and the car was waiting for you, and different from other times he didn't let your hand go once you were inside, instead he put his arm around you and hold you closer to him.

"I'm so sorry, I paralyzed, I was freaking out and I didn't pushing away, I feel so ashamed" you started speaking against his chest with tears finally coming from your eyes.

"Hey there, it's okay" He patted your back and kissed the top of your head, his voice was calming like a balm taking away the pain "That guy is a jerk, at least he is getting the point now, you were right. What kind of asswhole needs to see a woman with another man in order to understand she doesn't want him?"

"We hardly make it to the bed?" You said smiling "I liked that one, the look on his face"

"I couldn't think anything else, was it too much?" He clearly was nervous about kissing you but this time you were not letting him go so easily.

"Maybe, would you consider this too much?" You pull his face down to kiss him but he didn't move, he kissed you back, not as theatrical as before and his lips felt soft on yours and you could feel his hand on your neck holding you close to him and the other caressing your hair, it felt like pure electricity and little by little he started pushing his tongue inside of yours, and you were surprised by the dominant way he kissed you and the tender way he was holding you.

You were interrupted once the driver announced you were home and once you were inside you could see him burying his hands in his pockets like he didn't know what to do with them.

"We shouldn't" He said finally but his eyes meant something else "I mean I'm still working for you"

"And you say you were no prostitute" you smile at him, using him as support so you could take off your heels and tossed them somewhere in the living room "Are you coming or not?" You take his hand and point to the staircase with your head.

"Yes ma'am" he answered with a grin a followed you upstairs leaving tender kisses in your bare shoulders.

***

Barry wake up with her naked body still wrapped around him, her dress that had been almost impossible to take off was in the floor in some corner and he went to put on his boxers so he could get downstairs, it was 7:00 am and he wanted to make her breakfast, even if he couldn't figure out his way in the kitchen, but he chose to take a leak first.

He was walking out of the bathroom, with the memories of the previous night burning in the back of his head and then he listened it, the familiar sound of a gun going off and he panicked, because it wasn't in his hands, and then a stinging pain in his shoulder, an actual relief because whoever was shooting didn't knew what their were doing, he collapsed on his back next to de bed and hit his head making all blurry but he was listening.

The noise wake Y/N and Barry could hear her scream when she saw him bleeding, and his mind was only thinking in fighting back, then the lights turned on and he could see her, the figure shaking at the door holding the gun.

"Why? Why did you had to choose him?" Adrian's voice had a high pitch on it "I was the one supposed to comfort you, and to hold your hand last night Y/N!!!" She shot at her but thankfully she was terrible and she missed, barry didn't move waiting for a moment to reach for one of the guns he had hide in her room months ago, begging to not bleed out before he could.

"Leave that alone for once" Maverick voice said from the door "And you get dress" He tossed a night gown to Y/N that was covering herself with a bedsheet, he hit Adrian on the face making her fall to the ground and took the gun away from her hands.

"What the fuck Richard?" Y/N scream at him, and she put on the gown "What the fuck are you doing in my house" She attempt to run towards Barry but he stopped her.

"Oh I wouldn't do that sugar" He sounded drunk or something else, but he had enough coordination to hold the gun better than Adrian that now was a crying mess in a corner. "Sit here and don't move" He forced her to sit on the bed and went to were Barry was trying o stand with a hand holding on the bed. "Come on soldier sit with your whore"

"Adrian why did you do this?" Y/N was talking to the young girl, but she couldn't even look at them she was curled in the floor sobbing and holding herself. "I cared for you, you were like my sister, I loved you"

"Oh, did you hear that?" Richard laughed and went to pick Adrian by the hair and forced her to look at Y/N "A sister, but that's not what you wanted right? You'll see Y/N this lady here found something interesting about your prince charming here, and out of her so called love for you she came to me to help her solve your problem, tell me sweetheart have this man told you why did he came home from the war? He is a fucking murderer." His words sound poisonous and Y/N look shocked, but Barry new it was more about how he got that information than the actual fact that Barry had killed someone.

"What do you want Richard?" She said and her voice was soft, she even move apart from Barry in what he hoped was pretend disgust "What are you talking about?"

"This guy you chose killed an innocent man and walked away with it, and your lovely friend here was so worry about you that last night she was too drunk to shut up, so this morning she convinced me to came here and help her get you to safety, but oh no, we are too late" he started pacing around the room making an fake distressed face, and he ignored Barry for a moment "When I got here he had already snapped, he killed your friend..." He pointed the gun to Adrian's head an ignored Y/N pleas and simply killed her "And then I have trouble imagining what could have happened" He had a sadistic grin and took Y/N by the hair and force her to kiss him. "What do you think? He killed himself when he saw what he did?" He pointed his gun at Barry's head who was looking down with his hands behind his back "Or the coward shot you before he killed himself?" He caressed her face with the smoking gun and enjoyed the terror in her face "What is it going to be dear?" He said trying to force another kiss on her.

"Maybe think better asswhole" Barry said and out of nowhere he took the gun frrom his hand an shot him in the head under the scared face of Y/N and even when he was relieved he had saved her he could assume he had lost her forever.

***

The official version was that Richard was high on many different substances, he broke into your house and tried to kill you but Barry took that bullet and then when Adrian tried to calm him down he killed her and out of fear and his agitated mental state he end up blowing up his brains.

There was no reason to disbelief you, he had make a scene at the party the previous night when you left and the gun was registered, and in his house they found footage of your apartment entrance and some pictures taken from the front building as Barry had suspected.

After some harsh couple of months and a very well elaborated lie things were settled down and you even were about to start working on a new independent film.

Everything was perfect but you still missed him, you haven't been able to manage the initial shock and he interpreted as you being too disgusted by his lifestyle and he choose to go back to his anonymous life, to his acting class and being Barry Block, even when press won't leave him alone for days.

A year passed in a blur and you felt hurt that he didn't called you, and you were too proud to look for him, and suddenly one day, Sally walked in for a table read for the movie, and after it was over, and after impressing everyone there including you she timidly approach.

"Hi, I don't want to be awful, but do you remember meeting me?" She said and it take you by surprise the humility she showed.

"Sure you were Barry's friend right?" You said hiding the pain his name produced in your heart.

"Oh my god you remember that's so sweet of you, I just wanted to say how glad I am to work with you, you are such an inspiration" She seemed sincere but you wanted to run away from everything that could remained you of him "And I'm sorry it didn't work out for you guys, I mean he is still obviously in love with you, but he is such a non violent guy that I get why he walked away, but you are a fighter and I just wanted to say I respect you so much"

You smiled and change the subject, and praise her acting buying you enough time to process her words and a glimpse of hope start shining, maybe it was not all lost.

***

"I'm lady Macbeth, again" Natalie's voice was proud of herself, this was the third time they were doing the Shakespearean night but this time he hadn't get Macbeth like the previous year but Benedick in a scene from Much ado about nothing, a comedy since Gene thought he needed to experiment more with that genre, and he had cast Saha as Beatrice, but she didn't have the slightest interest since he had actually given her a second role as Helena in Midsummer.

By the time he was ready to come out in scene and declare his love for Beatrice the woman looking against him was clearly not Sasha but he could have known her figure in any place and so he went and started talking not sure of what to expect.

BENEDICK: I do love nothing in the world so well as you; is not that strange?

BEATRICE: As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you: but believe me not; and yet I lie not;

I confess nothing, nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin.

BENEDICK: By my sword, Beatrice, thou lovest me.

BEATRICE: Do not swear, and eat it.

BENEDICK: I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you.

BEATRICE: Will you not eat your word?

BENEDICK: With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.

BEATRICE: Why, then, God forgive me!

BENEDICK: What offence, sweet Beatrice?

BEATRICE: You have stayed me in a happy hour: I was about to protest I loved you.

BENEDICK: And do it with all thy heart.

BEATRICE: I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.

BENEDICK: Come, bid me do any thing for thee.

BEATRICE: Kill Claudio.

The last line resonated in his mind for a moment, but she turned to the audience to make a bow and so did he happy to receive the applause, and she went to take his hand on hers and take one more bow before leaving the stage to Natalie.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her once they were apart from everyone.

"Playing Beatrice, Gene is an old friend of mine, I'm surprised he didn't told you, he loves to name drop, I asked him if I could read for this, I do miss theater you know?" She said finding a chair to sit on, the costume looked beautiful on her.

"That's not what I meant" He started keeping his distance.

"You never called, I went to pick you from the hospital and you leave before I got there, you avoid my calls..." Y/N was holding her hands together nervously. "

"I didn't think I should be around you, and Richard was no longer a threat" he said giving in and sitting next to her. "I do my job and walk away, that's how it works".

"Don't call it a work you didn't get paid" She said hurt by his words and he regretted immediately "We both know it wasn't that anymore that night... Barry I would not give you the crappy speech of how much I love you, but I do, I love you, with all the shitty parts that come along with you, if anything I love you more about those, am sorry I freaked out at the moment but I was sure he was going to kill you, I wasn't scared for me nor of you, for you plenty"

He remained silent for a moment and then he finally stood up, and for a moment she thought he would walk away, but he didn't.

"Do you want to get coffee?" He asked simply.

"Will you hold the mug like a normal person?" She joked.

"I'll ask for a paper cup with no handle if it's better" he said extending his hand to her. "And for what is worth, I love you too"

She took his hand and walked with him into the night, but he couldn't feel the darkness anymore, and the future looked bright for once.

The end

I liked this a lot, I hope you enjoy it