#y: year two

[emmyrosee]

Rintaro feels guilty leaving this time.

You’re expected to deliver your twins any day next week, and he’s expected to fly across the country for a charity event he really can’t even think straight for. You've assured him you'll be fine, his sister is more than capable of taking care of you while he's gone, but there's a pit in his stomach about the idea of leaving you.

But you send him anyways. With a kiss on his cheek and a promise to call him every day (if he had it his way, it would be every hour, but you wouldn't go for it).

The trip goes smooth enough, and he's grateful for you staying true to your word and calling him every night. It does make the time pass, you're safe, but he's more than eager to make it home to you.

He practically pushes his teammates out the door, he's the first one on the bus, his knee bounces anxiously the entire time- especially when the bus driver makes a wrong turn into straight construction, thrusting them in traffic for far, far too long without any service.

But you won't call him, right? Why would you, you've called him at night every day he's been here, and nothing of note has happened (not that that’s a negative to Rintaro, he’d rather your days be mundane and boring than active in your pregnancy).

His heart finally starts again once they pull into the airport parking lot, all of the teammates trying to not be annoyed at the events of the morning and trying to stay focused on the next steps of boarding the plane in a few hours.

Rintaro sighs, slipping his phone out and immediately calling you, not taking notice of just how many notifications bombarded his phone.

The line ring once, twice, and his shoulders relax as you finally pick up the phone. "Rin?" You ask, and you sound like you're in discomfort. But he merely brushes it off. You are very pregnant, after all, surely discomfort is normal.

"Hey babe, just got service from being in the bus, we've got a nasty delay because the fuck-head made us miss our fucking flight, so I might be home later than expected-"

“Rin, I'm in labor.”

Silence fills the line.

“No you’re not,” he says simply.

“As much as I would love to be kidding, I’m not. I’m 10 centimeters, babe.”

How you’re so calm right now, is beyond him.

Him, on the other hand, leaps up with absolute panic, a screechy “WHAT?” echoing through the airport. It catches more than a few looks from other people, but all Rin can think about is you.

You in the hospital, legs up in stirrups and gown being the only thing adorning your body. There's probably nurses and doctors everywhere, and Kaiya and Akito on the couch at home with his mother, waiting for the news.

"WHEN?"

"My water broke a few hours ago, got to the hospital with your sister and now they're getting ready for me to push. Your timing truly is impeccable."

“And you thought now was the best time to tell me?!”

“I tried to tell you earlier, but you had no service!” You defend.

Fuck, he could scalp the bus driver for getting fucking lost.

"okay, okay, okay lets calm down-"

You snort, "yeah I'll get right on that."

"Please, for everything unholy, don't joke right now," he pleads, and he hears you offer him a laughy 'sorry' on your end of the line. "Are you okay? Do you feel okay?"

"Well I don't feel particularly good, for all intents and purposes." You direct your attention to something else and he hears bustling in the background, "Rin I have to start pushing. Stay on the line.”

"No! Wait for me, I'll-"

"Yeah I'm not waiting for you," you snip. “I'll... be fine. Just stay on the call okay? For me?

Rintaro tries not to pass out as you start pushing, doctors encouragement coming through on the line, followed with your grunts of agony as you try to bring your two new babies into the world. He knows you’re strong, you don’t need him there, but there’s something deep inside of him that hurts at the idea that you don’t, he’s so close yet no where near close enough to be right there next to you, and he anxiously looks around him as he tries to find a private place for him to cheer you on, call your name, scream it, his soul in agony over something he has no control over.

It could be four minutes or four hours, rintaro has no idea as you finally scream in agony as a small wail breaks over the line, one akin to Akito and Kaiya’s as the two of them entered the world all those years ago.

“Beautiful!” His sister cheers, “just a bit more for Sachiko sis, you’ve got this!”

“No more,” you weakly whimper over the line, and Rintaro tears up as he chews on his thumb.

“Baby,” he chokes, “you’ve got this, okay? You can do this, I’m right here.”

“No you’re not!” You scream.

“Yes I am! I’m right here okay? I’m not going anywhere!”

“Rin I need you-“

“And I’m right here. I promise. Just close your eyes, I’m there, okay?”

Hes not there. He knows you know that. But right now, he can’t feel sorry for himself. He goes silent and listens to the bustling of the doctors and nurses preparing to bring Sachiko into the world, and rintaro has no clue how long it’s been before you’re ready to push again.

“Ready, momma?” He asks, and you let out a sob.

“Im so tired, Rin.”

“One more big push okay?” He chokes. “Push!”

And you do. You let out another shriek as you start to push, rintaro can practically see your legs tremble and face scrunch and throat tight as you let out another blood curdling cry, and before he can think, another set of crying fills the line.

His twins are here.

And he’s not.

“Good job, angel!” He hoots.

“She did so good, Rintaro,” his sister assures.

“I know she did,” he says, hand clutching his heart.

“They’re so handsome Rin,” You babble, and instantly, Rintaro’s face drops. “Such beautiful boys, they're so sweet, so handsome…”

Boys?

Oh fuck. Rintaro briefly thinks back at all the purples and pinks in the closet at home.

Immediately, Rin tries to conjure up an excited tone, squealing out a soft “boys?” in confirmation.

“She’s messing with you," his sister snickers. You’re laughing exhaustedly too, among your sniffles of agony and above the screaming of the newest twin.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he says, breathless and his chuckles easing out.

“You've got new baby girls, Rintaro," his sister coos.

“We got them, boys!” He announces, causing an uproar of cheers to come from his teammates. He feels his heart sink to his stomach as his throat begins to swell. “I’m so proud of you baby… my good girls.”

“They’re so beautiful, Rin. So beautiful," you cry.

He sits on his suitcase and tries to imagine them, desperately, tiny hands pawing at the air, crying at the newness of the bright light and the world…

All without him. He’s not there.

“Who was born first?” He chokes, desperate to keep his voice steady. It was a complete tossup with the names, whoever was out first or second is precisely how the names would fall. But he just needs you to keep talking to him.

You understand, and you answer shakily, “Sachie,” you sigh. “Sachiko was 20 minutes later.”

“Late; just like momma.”

“Watch it.”

He chuckles around a flood of tears, a hand coming up to bring his hand up to cover his face. Hot, bubbled tears slip down to roll over his thick fingers, trying to stay composed in the airport that’s bustling with too many people.

“Im so proud of you,” he chokes, eyes screwing shut. Not long after, a massive hand claps down on his shoulder, Komori’s eyes flickering with understanding and apology. He’s got nothing to apologize for, but Rintaro takes the kindness regardless and puts a free hand on top of his to squeeze the emotions out. “My amazing girl. Fuck, I can’t wait to see you.”

“Rin, I have to go,” you say, and he hears the gruff voice of the doctor. “I love you so much. Come home safe, you’re no use to me dead.”

“Okay, princess,” he sighs shakily, burying his face in Komori’s stomach to cry. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. You’re gonna be fine.”

He’s 99% sure he should be saying that to you, and not you to him. But regardless.

He waits for the line to die before taking the phone from his ear, blinking up at Komori with absolute heaviness in his heart.

“I should’ve been there,” he whimpers.

“You couldn’t control it, buddy.”

“But I should’ve been there. Not three cities over for some charity that I don't even care about."

It doesn’t matter the assurances Komori could try to pass him. It doesn’t matter that you’re okay, you’re strong and you don’t need him in this moment.

He should’ve been there to squeeze your hand, watch his two babies come into this world with you, kiss your forehead and whisper loving words in your ear.

And he couldn’t manage even that.

[novacqnes]

✩ sore loser // vi

summary: with an undefeated streak of nine wins victory is sweet for pitfighter!vi, but losing can be even sweeter.

⋆ warnings: pitfighter!vi, brief mentions of blood, alcohol & violence, smut; oral, squirting & fingering [fem receiving], top!vi

⋆ pairing: vi x fem reader

⋆word count: 2.4k

⋆ a/n: stop the vi hate, she’s so hot and sexy and kind, i forbid it!

nails scraped feverishly against the scarred skin of vi’s arm. needy and sharp, they littered the rough surface, leaving behind deep pink crescents with each touch. back and forth, back and forth, they dug into her flesh almost mechanically as she remained fixed between your thighs. desperately bringing her tongue against your wet clit. she lapped up your fluids, allowing her soft lips to slide against your pussy effortlessly as you shook against her, fighting through a blurred haze. fiery tears crept from your eyes; one by one they surged forward, setting your cheeks aflame along with the rest of your body. it took everything—every last drop of unbearable desire and greed—to steal a glance at vi. 

slivers of jet black and red hairs clung to the crown of her forehead. her features were frozen; misty blue eyes caught on you. she wanted more, eager for it, as every aspect of your being entranced this woman. your taste lingered on her tongue as she sank back in for more, drawing desperate whines from your lips. your smell, sugary and thick, filled the room just the way she liked, overwhelming all her senses. or the way you moved against her, jerking your body with each flick of her tongue against your folds. down to the cries—your cries, which were lewd and slick, permeating the humid air around you. allowing her this small fragment in time where she could truly win.

her knees hit the ground first, a loud thud rang through your ears as vi sank onto the blood-stained concrete. her hands found their way there next, gripping onto the ground as they fought for an ounce of stability among the animalistic screams. they pierced the putrid air, trapping your body in the middle as hundreds of people pushed against you. they demanded she rise and fight for the very status that had left her undefeated for weeks, but she didn’t move. rather she pressed her eyes close, shutting out the light, her opponent’s bashed face, and any possible connection you may have had to her. her heart pounded against her chest, pleading with her to breathe, to no avail. 

a crushing weight pressed against vi’s chest, forcefully expelling the air from her body. every one of her muscles begged for her to stop. she slid forward, a gasp crawling up her lungs as a wave of agony consumed her. she could shrug off pain. she’d done it many times before, but each movement left her with that same dreadful sensation. her mind and body vied for two opposing sides, both resulting in her losing this match, yet she was relentless. her fingers scrapped the ground as she pulled herself up in one swift motion, violently suppressing the nerves that writhed in her stomach. once more, violet brought her arms to her side, guarding her face as she swung a bruised fist at her opponent. 

the white sheets felt damp in your palms, providing a gentle substitute for vi’s skin. in your hands it compressed, shrinking with each stroke of vi’s thumb against your clit. the pressure was light at first, growing more fervent by the second. she pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, her breath warm as she moved up hovering over your pussy. she lingered for a moment, teasing you with the slightest bit of contact before pulling away. tension bloomed at the pit of your stomach, taking hold of your hips and drawing you to vi’s mouth— begging her to come closer. your movements were shaky; you wouldn’t be able to hold for much longer, but vi had to let it. she gazed up at your body, a mumbling mess covered in a thin film of sweat at her efforts. it gave her satisfaction beyond any victory in the pit; this was just for her.

“fuck—t-there still may be a follow-up—you can try again,” you moaned, vi slipping a finger inside you. she curled them sharply as she leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to yours. 

she began slow; you leaned into vi’s warmth, savoring the taste that lingered on her tongue. euphoric was an understatement. this was everything vi was lacking, splayed out across her flimsy mattress. there was something about your pleasure being in her hands that pulled the best from her—and it wasn’t a matter of control. whether it was you on that bed or her, vi adored the fact that it was with someone. her fights were isolating, in spite of the dozens of people that filled the pit each night. they weren’t fighting with her—but right here you were.

“they don’t wanna see me, sweetheart.”

“violet—“she spat against your core, moving down until her lips met your pussy. her tongue traced against your folds, flicking up and down as her index finger moved in and out. she soon slipped in a second, third, and fourth, sinking them inside your cunt at an unfathomable pace. her body showed no signs of slowing down. thick veins bulged from her forearm, and splotches of pink colored her cheeks, but she was on overdrive. determination clouded her senses, erasing any semblance of pain that arose in her. 

she muttered into you, “i’m good right here, just relax for me, yeah?” her voice was silky smooth, with sultry lined at the very top of it. she kept your legs open, solidifying her place between them as she hummed, furiously lapping at your clit. she smacked obnoxiously, pressing herself deeper and deeper into you until you had no choice but to make more room for her. and your hands acted first. they snaked their way around your hamstrings, forcing each leg to your sides as vi hummed in praise, sending a soft vibration up your core. 

the pleasure was beyond words, propelling you to an alternate realm as you pulsed around vi’s fingers, sucking them in with each charged stroke. she molded to you perfectly, pressing against the spongy tissue of your g-spot for as long as she could. it was evident; every fiber of her being was in this room, pushing you towards ecstasy. soon, black dots crept into your vision, distorting vi from your view, and before long your eyelids followed suit, shutting the rest of the room from you. 

“oh you’ve such pretty eyes, keep them here, right here,” she cooed. that fucking tone. so gentle and attentive it was nauseating. her gaze was unwavering; as if this wasn’t enough, she refused to look away from you, forcing your eyes to the glassy wetness smeared across her face. those eyes—they latched onto you, urging you to watch your girlfriend sink herself nose deep into you over and over again. the pressure magnified with each brush of vi’s lips against your clit. 

the words were trapped in your throat, “fuck vi—oh“ halting as you rapidly began to unravel. your gaze finally broke from hers, pulling your eyes to the feeble ceiling lights. a string of profanities fell from your lips as you shook against her mouth, surrendering to the adrenaline that mercilessly ripped through your body. 

“you don’t know what you do to me... so needy and beautiful. push yourself back on to me,” vi whispered, her voice dropping to a dangerously low octave. it sent a shiver up your spine, as the sensitivity followed. the pleasure bordered on overstimulation, but to say you wanted it to end would’ve been a lie. the sensations were purely addictive, bringing your body to her lips while in the same breath employing your hand to block her. making sense of it in the moment was nearly impossible thus, it took everything in you not to faint right then.

you gasped, “i-can’t—“

“move your hand y/n, let me hear it sweetheart.” 

vi’s brows furrowed slightly, dipping down as her eyes landed on your fingers, shakily obscuring her view. she watched as they moved mere inches, pausing at your lower stomach. she brought a hand to them, softly caressing your skin with her thumb, and carefully noting how you shuddered, whining at the slightest hint of contact. you were close, yes, but this couldn’t be rushed. 

vi moved from your legs, pressing her pink lips to your neck as she toyed with your clit, rubbing slow torturous circles into you. she kept a steady pace, not budging even when you grinded against her. rather she peppered your clavicle with kisses, running her tongue along the tender skin of your exposed neck. heat simmered at your cheeks, consuming the rest of your face as vi wielded your pleasure for her own satisfaction. every whine and gasp served to fuel what was left of her tattered ego. the control intoxicated her, restoring vi with a confidence that she hadn’t experienced since she set foot in the pit.

yet it was also about you—pleasing you—that drove violet insane. her body was quickly approaching its limit; it ached with dark purple bruises that covered her knees and fingers that were raw from the constant friction of bandages. vi adored this. she fell in love with the idea of giving every last bit of what she had to offer, and after her loss, she was destined to prove that even more. 

“holy shit,” you muttered, pressing your forehead against hers. desperation oozed from your voice as you cupped vi’s face in your palm. beyond your voice, the surrender was palpable. heavy eyelids shielded most of your eye, leaving visible only small glints of pigment. it grew increasingly difficult to focus on her but the same couldn’t be said for vi. she pushed the black strands from her face leaning against you as she picked up the pace. adding more and more pressure to the bundle of nerves—but it wasn’t enough. she would move her arm, delicately flexing the muscles in her forearm in restraint. her mouth would hover over your ear, teasing you with her tongue. she used it against you deliciously, following the long veins that trailed your neck until you were a whimpering mess. it was a tireless endeavor that vi trekked for hours. all of her efforts culminating in this one moment before ruining it all with a sudden halt. 

“vi please—“ 

she shook her head. “beg, baby.”

“please let me cum for you.” weakly you took her hands in yours, moving them from your clit, you slurred, “i wanna cum all over you.

she laid a soft kiss on your cheek, slipping her index back as you wrapped around her beautifully, blanketing her skin in a unique warmth that drew a gasp hum from vi’s lips. she curved them upward, meeting your g-spot once again. you shifted underneath her body, moaning into her ear completely unabashed. the anticipation reveled inside you with vi building on her speed. sweat dripped from her temples, sticking the dark black strands to her forehead. slowly, she came undone with you. her jagged breaths began to match yours, and her movements were growing more and more shallow.

streams of euphoria rifled through your body as the pit returned at the bottom of your stomach, paralyzing you from the waist down. torturously vi’s fingers met your g-spot, prodding and teasing the surface. your heart continued to race, beating out of your chest until it was the only thing that vi could hear; your moans slowly taking a backseat. limb by limb, the heat consumed you, leaving you victim to the overwhelming pleasure that began at your pussy, sending the rest of your body into a tailspin. 

she egged you on, “just like that, sweetheart, fuck, just like that." you could no longer make out vi’s beautiful face; the slight curve of her cheek was faint along with the rest of her features as you writhed against her. quickly losing control of the autonomy you once had. the pit within your stomach only sped up the process, bringing tears to your eyes as you cried, sinking your nails into the mattress. with one last thrust of vi’s finger, fluids rushed from your pussy, soaking the sheets underneath you in one swift motion. you were falling, silently surrendering to the emotions that took hold of your body. for that time, your body wasn’t entirely your own but a vehicle that only vi could steer. 

she took her place beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist as a pervasive silence fell upon the room. her hands soothingly rubbed the skin of your thigh, almost lulling you to sleep as the bright lights faded from view. you could feel her slowly succumbing to fatigue yet she moved closer, snuggling against your back. 

you tapped her arm, “hey, you did your best.”

“that’s what scares me,” she shrugged. there was always this slight divide between vi and what she did in the pit. you could see it. it was draining, extracting every bit of light from vi’s soul like an eternal vacuum. if anything, you were slightly grateful for this loss; it alleviated some of the pressure that burdened her, yet this wasn’t enough to put an end to it. truly the only person that could pry vi away from this place was herself. 

you turned to face her, “maybe that means it’s time to stop.” 

vi pressed her lips shut, her blue eyes briefly meeting the ceiling before falling back on you.

“if not, then you’ll probably lose again, which totally sucks but I’ll be here when you do,” you sighed. she allowed your hands to roam her sculpted arms. thumb tracing the ink etched into her tricep. uncertainty steadily filled the room as you both sat in silence, taking in the sight of one another. it offered you a slight glimmer of hope beyond the pit, a hope for a brighter future. one in which vi could simply be, without tirelessly fighting to prove her worth in every fight. she was worthy of love, and hopefully this moment of you two merely admiring each other was enough to begin that process. 

“i’ll make sure to lose each time then,” she chuckled, jumping up from the mattress. a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but you refrained from pointing it out, basking in the joy that settled over your girlfriend. it was small moments like these that made it all worth it. 

you began, “that’s not what i meant—“

“i’ll go check out that follow-up fight; you stay right here.”

[quillicious]

secret kisses in 8th year 💋

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[literaila]

need lovey dovey gojo rn i miss him 🥀 please bless us with atf content

“can you just push me out of the window or something?” you ask satoru, a telltale whine in your throat, legs shaking as you hobble over to the couch.

your eyes are half-lidded, squinting at the light and flinching with every step you take because none of them feel quite right. can hardwood floor spontaneously move?

“hmm,” gojo’s arm is around yours, supporting you as you walk. “i could but i don’t know if it’s high enough to get you anywhere.”

“it will get me to an afterlife where my head isn’t vibrating.”

you can hear his chuckle, but your eyes cross involuntarily every time you look up. so you don’t. “or the hospital,” he tells you, squeezing your arm. “i mean, you are pretty weak but a fifteen foot drop—“

even amidst your confused walk and loopy gate, somehow your instincts are sharp enough to stomp on satoru’s foot. the years of practice have been well worth it just from the yelp that follows after.

gojo jolts back before he remembers that he’s the one supposed to be guiding you. but satoru retaliates anyway with a slight shove which makes your head ache and your eyes twist.

“you’re mean,” satoru tells you, with the same pout you’ve heard a thousand times. “just sit here and don’t move.”

“it’s worse when i don’t move.”

“oh, okay, walk around. if you run into another wall maybe you’ll hit your brain back into the right spot.”

you let out a slight groan, resting your head on your palm so it can’t go anywhere. “shut up, satoru, this is all your fault. and it wasn’t a wall.”

“my fault? sweetheart, i think you might be misremembering,” he mock coos, kneeling down to take off your shoes. “cause i wasn’t there. you just got home. it’s 2010. we’re in japan.”

“i know where we are, asshole. you distracted me! i was thinking about you trying to start a food fight with megumi at dinner last night when the curse came out of nowhere.”

satoru tuts. “sounds like someone needs to focus when she’s on a job,” he sing-songs.

“sounds like someone is going to be my personal servant for a month. do you have a cute little maid outfit laying around?”

“i—“

“okay,” tsumiki comes strolling in, then, carrying a tray piled so high up that her face is obstructed.

not that you’re looking—but it’s the thought that counts.

you flinch, closing your eyes tight at the feeling that comes after.

things would’ve been much more convenient if the kids were still at school and shoko was still in town.

still, hopefully satoru hasn’t told either of them anything and you can pretend all is swell with the world until further notice—

tsumiki continues, “i’ve got ice, water, tea, tissues, some bandaids…” she’s looking down trying not to trip over her own two feet.

“here,” megumi appears beside her, setting yet another thing on top of the tray. “you forgot this.”

“oh! and medicine. thanks, megumi.”

he hums.

and you’re not looking at them—due to, you know, the entire world spinning whenever you turn your head—but you wince anyway.

of course satoru couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

tsumiki sets the tray on the coffee table and she tries to get a look at your face. “does your head hurt?”

you attempt a smile. “no, ‘miki, it’s not too bad. how are you doing?”

“how hard did you hit it?” megumi asks, completely ignoring you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch.

“not too hard.” you say, your stiff muscles relaxing just a bit when tsumiki gives you a chaste kiss on the head.

gojo coughs.

you scowl at him with your eyes closed. “really, it’s nothing. just a bump. i’ll sleep it off.”

satoru then coughs again because he has never taken a hint in his life… or because your glare is less effective without the clear view of murder in your eyes.

tsumiki resumes her trifling of goods, arranging them so you can reach, a tiny frown on her face as she thinks it through.

your brain is too scrambled to think of what to say to either of them; ask them about school, maybe? try and distract them from the black eye you’re surely going to have in the morning?

and it’s not that you don’t appreciate their concern—it’s just that both of the kids get a little… intense when you get hurt.

it’s endearing and also completely heartbreaking.

“do you need a doctor?” tsumiki turns to you, standing on your tiptoes like she’ll be able to see a wound on your head. she inspects your eyes for a second.

“no, ijichi looked me over. don’t worry about it, sweetie.”

“have some water,” megumi nudges a glass towards you, no room for arguing in his tone.

“i brought the smiley-face bandages you like. do you have any cuts?”

“no, i didn’t get—“

“you should put the ice on your bump, too,” megumi adds.

“i—“

tsumiki gasps, jumping back. “is it too bright in here? i‘ll turn off the lights. can you get the windows, megumi?”

and just as fast as the two of them sat down, they’re up again, tending to you like you’re a fragile little bird that fell on their doorstep.

which you kind of did, actually.

your eyes sting as you open them again, tracking the fast movements of both of the kids, looking over the things megumi got over, and then at satoru who is still standing there, grinning a bit, of course.

you try and beg him to help with your eyes but he does nothing. typical.

“guys,” you say, seeing double. “i’m really okay, you don’t need to—“

tsumiki lowers the lights a bit. “is this better? i can turn them all the way off. we have flashlights, right?”

“you should wear gojo’s glasses,” megumi mutters, struggling to reach the blinds. he’s only eight—he’s still growing.

and you’re watching both of them with a burning in the back of your head and a desperation in your heart. now would be the perfect time to teach them about staying calm, about thinking and—

satoru moves then, grabbing megumi by the collar of his shirt and walking over to tsumiki. “okay, children,” he leans down, ignoring megumi’s scowl and tsumiki’s furrowed brows. he lowers his voice. “y/n is very sick. the doctor said she had some freaky, super gross, creepy bug-monster that’s messing with her head.”

“bug what—“

he puts a finger to his lips. “she isn’t supposed to know about it—it’ll only confuse her. but it’s very contagious so both of you have to stay far away. three rooms, at least..”

“she’s really sick?” megumi repeats, looking a bit angry.

at the same time tsumiki says. “but we can help take care of her.”

“such sweet, precious kids,” satoru coos, “but there’s only one person strong enough to be around her right now.”

megumi gives him a blank look, mouth already opening to argue.

satoru pinches the little boy’s cheek before he even gets the chance. “it’s me, of course. i am the strongest. you both just leave this to me and make sure you’re not letting any weird bugs sneak into your head.”

“but we—“

“and you have to keep it a secret. y/n can’t know, okay?”

and because your children are not completely gullible, they both just stare at satoru.

“okay?” satoru peers at them through his eyebrows. he has his crazy eyes on.

“okay,” tsumiki says softly.

“fine,” megumi mumbles.

“great!” satoru clasps his hands together. “now run along, children, i have a patient to tend to.”

and then they both walk down the hallway, giving forlorned looks towards you until they disappear around a corner. it’s cinematic the way it all plays out, really.

satoru returns to you and you sigh, hanging your pounding head. “really?”

“it’s impolite to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations,” satoru tells you like he’s not the worst person on the entire planet.

“they’re just going to be even more worried, now,” you groan, “you basically told them i was dying.”

satoru tilts his head. “i thought we were going to test that window theory?”

you scoff squeezing your eyes shut. “i can’t look at you.”

“because i’m too mesmerizing?” satoru sits down, pressed entirely against you. “yeah, i get that a lot.”

you just let him, unable to defend yourself from him, or from the migraine you’re going to have for at least the next week. you’re not sure which one is worse. “because it’s making me dizzy,” you retort. “the image of you is physically painful. this is awful.”

“as awful as that time that tsumiki puked on the rug and then megumi—“

“satoru,” you whine, turning your head into his shoulder.

his shoulder shake, just a little. “oops, sorry. is that a sensitive subject?”

“now i’m going to puke.”

“just try not to get it in my hair.”

you snort, digging your head into his bone. it kind of helps, actually.

and you wish for a moment that you had never taken that job, that you hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning, or that satoru didn’t have to be all encompassing.

but you don’t really want any of that.

after a moment satoru leans forward, and you open one eye, disturbed.

he reaches out to the table for the ice pack, and then presses it right against your head.

his hand is big enough to cover your entire face.

“how’s that feel?”

“like i’m being suffocated,” you mutter, through his palm, but it does feel slightly soothing.

“hold it,” he says softly. “and you should drink this,” he reaches out again for the water.

“you know you’re not actually a doctor, right?” you ask him, entirely aware that satoru has done nothing. tsumiki and megumi brought you all of these things and he’s just reaping the rewards.

but he is nice to cuddle up to, as steady as ever.

“the memories of concussed people simply can’t be trusted,” he sighs out, like it’s a painful reality.

you laugh. then wince.

satoru must notice this because he places his hand over yours on the ice. “do you wanna lay down?”

you think about it for a moment, unsure if anything will ever feel the same. but you shrug anyway. “i guess.”

“we’ll cuddle,” satoru promises, “it’ll help.”

and then he takes the ice and the water from you, placing them back on the table. he’s gentle as he maneuvers yours legs onto the couch, turning your entire body with a little push.

but he waits a moment in between each movement—letting you adapt to the room, and all of its doubles, before he continues.

“okay, c’mere,” satoru kicks his legs out, pushing you over until you’re smushed between him and the couch. and then he readjusts your arm, moving just slightly so that you’re laying on top of him, instead of beside.

it takes a moment for it all to compute. your eyes roll but once everything stills, you’re just laying on his chest.

“see? better already, huh?”

“you’re warm,” is all you say, laying your arm across his torso.

satoru grabs the ice again, holding it to your head. it’s not a lot, but it feels nice.

“your hand is going to get cold,” you murmur against him. “you need a towel or something.”

“it’s alright. i’ll be fine.”

and it sounds entirely like what you were saying to the kids not even ten minutes ago, but you don’t argue.

“i still have laundry to do.”

“we can buy new clothes.”

it is so tempting to look up at him and verify whether he’s serious—which you’re pretty sure he is—or not.

“satoru.”

“fine,” he shakes his head. “but i’m not folding it all fancy like you do.”

“it’s not fancy, it’s standard. and i’ve shown you that a million times.”

“megumi can do it.”

“megumi is eight and he just got home from school. what have you done all day?”

satoru hums. “well, let’s see… i did my hair, i ignored a couple of calls, got dorayaki, did the laundry, and rescued you from a window,” he whistles. “wow, that was a long day.”

“did you say laundry?”

“…did i say that?”

“satoru.”

“wow. you hit your head pretty hard, huh? you’re mixing up memories already.”

“as soon as my headache is gone, im going to fight you.”

“aww, but i thought i was your headache,” satoru pouts, digging his nose against your temple.

you’re about to say something rightfully cruel, one eye opening to look at him, but you make a face.

“what?”

“tsumiki was right. too bright in here.”

satoru lets one finger graze against your cheek. “here, sit up.”

and despite yourself, you listen. the world creeps in when you move, but satoru holds on to you, keeping your body from toppling over the side of the couch.

he digs beneath one of the couch cushions and then smiles victoriously. “here it is. okay, turn your head.”

you do, and satoru only takes a moment to wrap something around your eyes, tying a knot at the back of your head like he’s been doing it for years.

and then the two of you lay back down, and you’re tucked against him once again.

“how’s that?” satoru asks, fiddling with the edges of the fabric.

“do you just leave a trail of blindfolds wherever you go?”

“well, yeah,” satoru snorts. “how else would you be able to find me?”

your lip quirks and you breathe in, letting every tense muscle relax on top of him. “it smells like you.”

“you’re very welcome,” satoru rests his cheek against your head. “now, shhh. go to sleep and i’ll scare the bug in your head away.”

“will you make sure the kids aren’t freaked out?” you whisper to him, even though it hurts to talk.

“yeah, i’ve got it, sweetheart. don’t worry.”

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / sibling death mention / isolation / ]

Thinking about how Leo’s portal and teleportation powers have both directly (and in one instance, indirectly) been the cause of him being separated from his brothers at least four times now.

There’s that time in Portal Jacked, where his inexperience leads to his portal being messed with and his brothers ending up in Tahiti.

There’s the Bad Timeline, where Leo’s portaling led to them losing the Key, therefore indirectly leading to the apocalypse and in turn, ending with Leo being the last of his brothers alive (though just for a few minutes.)

There’s him teleporting him and Krang into the Prison Dimension, cutting him off from his family so wholly that the only way to fix this was a literal mystic miracle.

Then there’s the comic, where Leo’s powers act up again and make him lose months of time completely isolated from everyone and everything he knows.

Just, looking at all of this, it’s like the universe gave him the powers of distance on purpose to test him (and his bros), literally seeing if they can overcome unimaginable space and still make it back together. Imagine if it doesn’t stop here, and Leo has to learn to either deal with the occasional complete isolation or deal with time travelers coming back to stop some terrible event his powers (whether directly or indirectly) have caused, events that always lead to separation in some way, shape, or form.

It’s worth noting, too, that his portals often led to accidental separation, but his teleportation was the one power of his that was used to isolate himself on purpose…and was also the one that in any other scenario would have been the most permanent.

[miya-rin]

“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

[inkykeiji]

you and me to infinity

character: shigaraki tomura (+ the slightest hint of keigo)

genre: smut, modern!au

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudo-cest (adoptive siblings), noncon/dubcon, dacryphilia, rough sex, semi-public sex, blood, no prep, painful sex, one use of the word bitch, tomura is kinda mean, tomura carries reader, mention of drugs (he’s a lil high), size difference

notes: set within my lil icky big brother tomura universe! | title credit: ecstasy by suicidal-idol

words: 4.8k

synopsis:

“I really hate it when you look at him at all, and I really hate the way he looks at you.”  His tone morphs from mocking condescension to a deep growl, jagged and dripping with jealousy, words ground out through his teeth. Whimpering, you stare up at him. “Y-You do?”  And it’s impossible to hide the genuine surprise, tinged with absurd delight, colouring your voice, a direct response to the authenticity ringing in his own—sincere anger and envy and a hint of hurt. “Of course I do,” he huffs, admission cool against your damp cheeks. “I don’t like it when people look at what’s mine. I don’t like it when people stupidly believe that they can play with my things.”

The sun is strong today, shining down with that summer brutality it always seems to acquire in the late days of July and painting the backyard in harsh gold, bouncing off the shimmering water of the pool and limestone of the patio. 

Sticky sweet chemicals and coconut cling to your flesh in a fine film, scents lingering in the air around you. It’s so potent Tomura swears he can smell it from the pool, swears he can taste it on his tongue, bitter sunscreen mixed with the salt of your sweat.

It makes his mouth water, saliva collecting in the crevices near his molars and beneath his tongue in thick little puddles, and he pulls himself from the water, swim shorts sticking to his slim thighs as he perches on the edge of the pool, calves still submerged, fingers curling around the edge of the stone. 

You’re sitting across the water from him, sprawled out on one of the plush lounge chairs with a pair of sunglasses on your head and a book in your palms, index finger idly playing with one of the curled, fraying corners of the cover.

You both hear him before you see him, a distinct slap of rubber against stone, a sound that has come to indicate Keigo’s arrival. 

Already twisting in your chair at his footsteps, your face splits into a brilliant smile the moment he rounds the corner, procuring an equally impressive smile of his own, features softening when he meets your gaze, professionalism melting in your presence. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, smooth and warm, grin never dimming. “Whatcha reading?”

It takes you a moment to gather your bearings, dog-earred book completely forgotten in Keigo’s light, and a soft little noise sounds at the back of your throat as you remember it, picking it up and glancing at the cover. 

“It’s, um, Crime and Punishment,” your voice is shy and soft, but your eyes are bright, wide, eager to soak up any specks of attention Keigo will toss your way.

It’s pathetic, as far as Tomura’s concerned. You act like some lovesick little schoolgirl around him, hanging on his every word with sparkles in your eyes and teeth sunk into your lip. 

“Dostoyevsky,” Keigo hums with an appreciative nod. “You’re one smart little cookie, aren’t you?” 

His thumb and forefinger clasp your chin, tilting your face higher, as if he’s inspecting it for something. The silence is thick as his eyes sweep across your face, slow and thorough, admiring.

You let him, putty in his fucking hands—as always—leaning into his touch a little, allowing him to tug you closer. 

“Brains and a face like that?” Keigo blows air out his mouth in a low whistle. “That’s a lethal combination.” 

Girlish giggles bubble in your throat and Keigo’s smile stretches, a slight chuckle of his own on the back of his tongue. 

“Where’s your Daddy, princess?”

“In the office, I think.” 

“Thanks,” his grasp on your chin loosens, thumb skimming across your bottom lip before his hand drops completely. 

Your stare follows him as he strides towards the glass doors, desperate and ravenous for as much of him as your eyes can swallow down, soak up, devour. 

“Maybe, if you’re still out here later, we can talk about Russian authors some more,” he says just before he reaches the Manor, pivoting on his heel and walking backward.

Yes, your head is nodding enthusiastically. Yes, definitely. 

The sliding door slams shut with a dull thud, silence enveloping the space again, only broken by the erratic chattering of Tomura’s teeth, molars grinding together as MDMA clouds his brain, rushes through his veins, capillaries tingling.

You’ve since returned to your book, a small, satisfied smile on your lips as your eyes stare listlessly at the page, gaze unmoving. 

Fuck. As much as Tomura hates that golden-haired honeyed-voice fucker, he can’t blame him for being enraptured by your beauty. 

Because, truly, you are fucking stunning—skin perpetually dewy as if it’s routinely kissed by the morning sun itself, eyes glittering like magnificent jewels even in the dimmest light (even in the dark—Tomura knows, Tomura has seen it) always so expressive, alight with excitement or curiosity or terror—but that isn’t all. 

It’s your very presence itself, your nature of being, your bunny-like shyness and your kitten-eqsue playfulness, and how you’re oblivious to it all, rendering it all so natural, so genuine.

If Daddy had allowed you to go to school, you would’ve been the most popular girl in your year, every year, Pre-K all the way to your university undergrad, and then beyond that, had you chosen to pursue that path. 

The thought makes Tomura’s blood boil. 

Just the mere idea of all those boys, those scoundrels and mongrels, leering at you and salivating like his baby sister is the freshest, leanest, tastiest piece of meat they’ve ever had the privilege of laying their eyes on has his vision bleeding a furious red. He knows Keigo would’ve been one of those boys. He knows Keigo would’ve probably won, too. 

Well, it’s a good thing Daddy never sent you to school, then. Because that means there’s little to no competition for Tomura, and that means Tomura is the winner. 

That means Tomura is the only boy you see often, the only boy you really know, not counting Daddy’s employees that swing by every often, that never pass the threshold of acquaintance, that you’re too shy and sweet and precious to talk to—the ones Tomura pushes you behind his back and away from any time they’re in your immediate vicinity, safe and sound, guarded by your big brother; the ones that never manage to say more than a few words to you, a polite greeting or a handful of small talk, before someone, Daddy or nii-san, is redirecting their attention.

And that means Tomura will stay the winner, forever.

Besides, little sisters should belong to their big brothers first and foremost anyway, right? Who better to take care of them, to teach them, to lead and protect and reprimand them, than their big brother? Who could possibly know them better than their big brother does? 

No one. 

But Keigo’s attention leaves you glowing, the effects lingering long after he’s disappeared—Tomura can practically see the dreaminess in your eyes, the swooning and the yearning, the spectacular fantasies floating around in that pretty little head of yours. 

It makes him sick.

It makes him sad.

“You never look at me like that.”

“Hm?” your big brother’s voice breaks you from your daze, blinking to clear the haziness. “Like what?”

“Like the way you look at Keigo, all starry-eyed and tongue-tied.”

“You’re my brother.”

“So? What difference does it make, if we don’t even share the same blood?” he questions. “If anything, being your big brother should qualify me more.” 

Frowning, you look over the edge of your book, forehead crumpled in confusion. 

“H-How do you figure?”

And, Christ, you’re so fucking shy, so fucking sweet Tomura can barely stand it. Maybe you don’t look at him with specks of sun in your eyes, but you do look at him like this, irises deep with devotion, with admiration, with trust. 

You look at him like he carved the moon in the sky, like he created the laws of the universe, like he knows best. You look at him like you’re desperate for his approval, like you’re aching for him to let you in on the secrets of the cosmos, like his word is fucking gospel.

He shakes his head, hand dismissing the idea with a wave—there’s no way you could ever possibly understand, no way he could ever possibly explain it to you in easily digestible terms, idea cut up into cute bite-sized pieces.

“C’mere,” he says instead, wading in the water. “Your big brother is lonely in the pool all by himself.” 

“But I’m reading my book.”

“Bring it,” he shrugs.

“I—Won’t it—”

“You don’t have to get in the water,” he rolls his eyes. “Just come lay on a floaty or whatever.”

And, ever the good girl that you are, you do as your big brother says, allowing him to hold the inflatable pink lounger, warmed by the constant sun, still as you teeter onto it, a short squeal catching in your throat as the raft wobbles.

Unsurprisingly, having you closer does little to dispel the bitterness simmering in his chest, the hinges of his jaw beginning to ache from the incessant, uncontrollable gnashing of his teeth. 

Because you’ve gone right back to your stupid book, not paying him a scrap of attention, not even bothering to look over as he glides past you, back and forth, back and forth, skinny body graceful in the water.

And that just won’t do.

It hurts, probably more than it should, more than it has any moral right to, a sharp stinging burrowing deeper and deeper into his chest with every passing moment you stay entirely oblivious to him.

It’s incredible, how what he feels for you manages to seep through the thick fog of manufactured euphoria, tainting it. Even when he’s high on a cocktail of narcotics, he still can’t fucking escape you.

It’s what has him flicking water at you as he wades next to you, little droplets smattering across your bare torso, missing the pages of your book by a hair. 

They’re pretty, though, tiny drops of crystal adorning your skin, rising and falling with your gentle breaths and glittering as they catch in the sunbeams.

“Nii-san!” you gasp, eyes flying over to him in surprise as your body instinctively jerks, rocking your raft a little. 

“What?” he asks as he flicks another fistful at you, crimson eyes shimmering. “Can’t handle a little water?”

“You’re going to ruin my book,” you whine, flinching again as the next batch of droplets scatters over your body, procuring heavy taps against the plastic.

“Oh? The book Keigo likes?”

And just like that his hands are curling around pink plastic, jagged nails digging into puffy inflation before yanking hard and fast, snatching the floaty from beneath your body in an instant.

Your short scream is gargled by the water, your body creating a small crater of mini white caps as it hits the surface, fanning out in ripples around you. 

You resurface a moment later, choking on your own breath, lashes fluttering wildly as you reestablish your bearings.

They look pretty, too, all spiked together with dewdrops of water collecting at the points; they look the way they do after Tomura makes you cry—one of his favourite sights.

It makes him want to ruin you even more, to stain you with him, to make a mess of your body and remind you who you fucking belong to, who you were made for. Your discomfort sparks some sick, innate craving lurking deep within his ribcage—something acrid and addictive, something starving yet insatiable.

“Tomu-nii!” you wail as you flounder, his name tattered by a gasp.

“Oh, shut up,” he’s saying even as he takes you into refuge of his arms, letting you cling to his shoulders and helping you find your footing. “It’s just water, crybaby.”

“My novel!”

“Daddy will buy you another,” Tomura rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“You don’t understand,” you slump against your big brother’s chest, sulky. “That one had all of my annotations in it.”

“Oh? You mean the annotations you were going to talk to Keigo about?” his face screws up, the name acid on his tongue, corroded with resentment. 

“I worked really hard on those,” you continue, ignoring his question, cheek pressed to his protruding collarbone. “And now I’ll have to start all over again; they’re ruined!” 

It doesn’t matter, he’s telling you with a dismissive roll of his eyes, hands flexing around your shoulders.

“Not to you, maybe,” you mumble through a petulant pout, brows knitted. 

“You know, I really hate it when you talk to Keigo,” he begins, voice dropped an octave as it rubbles behind his bony chest, protruding ribs shuddering with dark vibrations. 

His chest puffs out a little, large hands cuffing your biceps as he pushes forward with his weight, guiding you backwards. A gasp jumps in your throat as your spine bumps against the pool’s wall, sharp edge of the patio digging into your skin. 

“I really hate it when you look at him at all, and I really hate the way he looks at you.” 

His tone morphs from mocking condescension to a deep growl, jagged and dripping with jealousy, words ground out through his teeth. Whimpering, you stare up at him.

“Y-You do?” 

And it’s impossible to hide the genuine surprise, tinged with absurd delight, colouring your voice, a direct response to the authenticity ringing in his own��sincere anger and envy and a hint of hurt.

“Of course I do,” he huffs, admission cool against your damp cheeks. “I don’t like it when people look at what’s mine. I don’t like it when people stupidly believe that they can play with my things.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” he snorts a little. “My little sister.”

Confusion furrows your brow, your head tilting a little as your eyes search his face. 

“But that—That doesn’t make me yours—”

And although it’s supposed to be a statement, firm and sure, it comes out as a question, quivering and hesitant.

“Yes it does,” he scoffs, as if you’re stupid, and it’s so cute, it’s so laughable. “Daddy adopted you for me.” 

“N-No, he didn’t—”

“Yes, yes, actually, he did. He adopted you because I told him to, because I asked for you—you, specially. You’ve always been meant for me; you’ve always been mine.” 

Large hands skim down your sides, clumsy fingers creeping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms, toying with the thin, flimsy strings.

“Ever since we brought you through that door, you’ve belonged to me.” 

A shameful giddiness bubbles up in your chest at the thought, something hot and sinful unfurling in your stomach. Swallowing against the feeling, you try to extinguish it, try to stomp it out with sentiments of how wrong it is, but it only flares higher, burns brighter, your eyes wide and unblinking as they stay glued to your big brother’s face, clinging desperately to every word that falls from his lips. 

“And,” he continues conversationally, “since you’re mine, don’t you think you should make your big brother feel better after making him so sad?”

“Sad?” you question, all giddiness eradicated from your features in an instant as you blink up at him, looking so fucking sincere—forehead warped with concern, eyes glossy and scanning his. 

“Yeah, stupid,” he says, filtered through an exaggerated pout. “I really can’t stand seeing you with him, you know? It hurts.” 

And although he’s playing it up, there’s a twinge of truth to his voice, a tremor of honesty worming through his words. 

“I—I’m sorry, nii-san, I didn’t realize—” 

“It’s fine,” he cuts you off, already bored of this routine. “Because you’re going to make it up to me, aren’t you?” 

The implicit expectation hangs heavy in the air, the belief that you’re supposed to be good for your big brother, obey your big brother, do everything he says exactly when he says it, exactly how he says it, weighing on your chest.

And now, he’s got you trapped.

“S-Sure, but…” you trail off, floundering, a delicious desperation shimmering in your irises—a harsh push-and-pull, a tug-of-war between should and want. “I don’t think—I mean, this isn’t—”

With a growl, Tomura uses his body to shove you against the edge of the pool again, stone skinning your elbows, a short cry pushed from your chest, sharp and high. 

“Enough of this,” he spits, eager hands tugging on the cute little bows tied at each of your hips, bikini bottoms coming undone with a few harsh yanks. 

“No, Tomura! We really shouldn’t—!” 

“Oh, yeah? And why’s that?” he’s panting out as two clumsy fingers plunge into your unprepared hole, a gasp slicing your throat. 

“Because! Because it’s—it’s not right!” 

“Never stopped us before.”

Well, never stopped him before. You’re just as complicit, too, though. He knows you want it just as badly as he does, knows that this whole act is merely a facade, masquerading as a good little girl when you’re just as depraved as he is. 

You wouldn’t let him do this to you if you weren’t—wouldn’t get this wet this quickly for him, wouldn’t go this pliant beneath your big brother’s touch, wouldn’t welcome him beneath your frilly peppermint pink covers in the dead of night and wouldn’t beg for him so pathetically only a few minutes into his perversion, wouldn’t cum so quickly when he gives you exactly what you’re asking for. 

You might fool everyone else—Daddy and Kurogiri and Keigo—but you could never fool your big brother. 

He knows you inside out. 

“No!” you’re struggling against him, but your thighs are already trembling, your hips already bucking. “I’m serious, we gotta st-stop!”

“Uh-huh?” he hums out, indifferent. “And what if I don’t want to stop?”

Because you sure as hell don’t—not with the way your legs are squeezing his hand, pelvis gyrating in messy little circles as you try to catch your clit on the heel of his palm; not with the sweet wispy whines that keep prying past your lips, fracturing your sentences. 

“Just—Come on! Not here!” 

“Why not? Don’t want your new boyfriend Keigo to see how much you love getting fucked by your big brother?”

“What? No! Daddy—Kurogiri—”

He laughs, mirth wrapped in malice. “Give me a break. Kurogiri doesn’t give a fuck what we do. I own him, too.” 

And, you suppose, on some level that’s true. Kurogiri bends over backwards, twists his spine and snaps it to fulfil Tomura’s every wish and whim.

Kurogiri would rather risk his own livelihood than ever put Tomura in any sort of danger. 

“You should know by now that I get what I want,” he grunts as he spins you around, the heel of his palm shoving at the waistband of his swim shorts, “when I want,” a strong palm flattens against the small of your back then pushes, hard, forcing you to bend at the waist, your face smacking off the ground, “and how I want.” 

Leaning over your folded body, his chest presses to your heaving back, flat and flush, his cock bluntly nudging your fluttering hole, his chapped lips brushing against your ear. 

“And what I want,” he begins, hot breath curling around cartilage, shivers skittering across your skin. “Is my little sister’s cunt.”  

And so he takes it—takes what he’s rightfully owed, takes what he rightfully owns, thrusting his cock into you in one hard, quick motion, burying himself in your body, tip pressed tightly to your cervix and balls nudging your clit. 

The abrupt gesture yanks a yelp from your throat, eyes shutting against the reflexive burn of tears. It fucking stings, little hole quivering around his girth as it struggles to adjust, core desperate to split itself open for him.

A moan falls from his lips as it trembles around him, and God, he wishes he could see it. Your sweet cunt always looks so cute as it strains to take his thick cock, to swallow it whole, spasming around hot, hard flesh and evoking a gruff groan from deep within his chest.

“Hurts, Tomu-nii,” you whimper, words half-muffled by the stone, lips dragging across it lazily. 

“Yeah?” he breathes, leaning back a little as his hands stay firmly wrapped around your hips and giving an experimental thrust, basking in the pained mewl that spills from your throat as he grinds his cockhead against sensitive tissue. “How much?”

“S-So much,” you hiccup out, eyes squeezing shut. “So much, swear I can feel you in my—in my tummy, nii-san.” 

“That so?” Tomura’s asking as his hips draw back, slow and purposeful, until only the tip of his cock is dipping into you. “Good.”

His pelvis slams forward, so powerful it procures a little tsunami of waves around your bodies, water sloshing over the edge of the pool and onto the pavement lining it. 

It’s downright ruthless, the snaps of his hips hard and fast and so, so rough, your body jostling with each pound of his cock into your cunt. Saw-toothed fingernails sink into your waist, latching onto the supple flesh like anchoring little leeches, keeping your body in place during his merciless assault. 

Tears are leaking from your sealed eyes, seeping past the tight seam in fat droplets to clump your lashes into little spikes, water teetering precariously on the points.

Limestone grates against your cheek with his harsh pistons, leaving the delicate skin rubbed raw. Copper stings your nose, your blood smeared across the stone, salty and bitter as it mixes with your tears and flows into your mouth. 

“Nii-san!” you wail into the coarse ground, the honorific a garbled mess on your tongue, soaked with spit.

His pace doesn’t slow, though, doesn’t falter at all, instead accelerating in speed, the plunging of his cock turned voracious in it’s endeavour to fuck you. A smudge of your blood glimmers up at him in the late afternoon sun, glazed with sticky snot and tears, and a moan rips up his throat, eyes zeroing in on the stain, fingers pressing bruises into your flesh as he yanks your hips backwards.

“Nii—Nii-san!” the honorific judders in your throat, stammered by his vicious movements. “Nii-san, it hurts!”

“Y’already said that.”

But oh, how he loves it when it hurts. 

Because you look so pretty in pain, facial features screwed up in a perpetual wince that only gets tighter the harder he fucks you until finally, it snaps, shatters, melts beneath the pleasure. Everything goes lax then, dopey and dreamy with ecstasy as that sordid bliss bathes your body

Because you sound so gorgeous when you’re in pain, cracked whines and sharp gasps and rib-shattering sobs all slicing up your throat, leaving your voice raw for days afterward—so cute, so precious, so unbelievably obvious; a lasting effect of his sins, something you can’t hide with make-up or sweaters or bandages and one of his favourite sounds in the whole world to hear.

Because your blood looks so artful, smeared across stone tiles or painted in diluted saliva streaked along your skin or pooling in the indents he leaves, the etches of his mouth and the carvings of his nails.

It all has him cumming embarrassingly fast, his cock throbbing almost violently as he stuffs your cunt full of his seed, your name splintering on his tongue. Clumsy fingers hastily snake between your thighs to rub hard, fast circles into your clit, his cock still buried to the hilt inside of you. 

“Come on, come on, c-come on,” he’s nearly whimpering in your ear, his breath scalding as his hips twitch, minuscule movements he couldn’t control even if he wanted to, desperate to fuck you more despite the ripples of overstimulation cascading over his flesh. “Cum for your big brother, cum all over your big brother’s cock.” 

It’s more of a plead than it is a demand, panted out in pathetic whines while he ruts into you, pelvis moving in irregular little gyrations, matching the pattern of his fingers. 

It’s the begging that does it, that has your stomach tensing and your slick walls convulsing on his cock, an intense gush of heat flooding your thighs; because the idea of him being so desperate for your cream, so needy to feel your cunt pulse around his shaft, is so unbearably hot.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he’s gasping, hips still fucking, cockhead grinding into your sensitive cervix. “Fuckin’—ah—fuckin’ milk me dry, bitch.” 

His cock gives another weak spurt of cum, a reward for all of your hard effort, and a shudder rips through his body, entire form trembling beneath the force of it. 

Then he’s collapsing on top of you, drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth to stain your cheek, cock finally beginning to soften. 

Sticky with sweat, his chest heaves against your back, his body gone lax draped over yours. 

But you’re still shivering with sobs, weeping uncontrollably into the stone as they claw at your chest, your attempts to swallow them down only making you cough more.

The weight on your back lifts, and your crying worsens, your big brother a pleasant, grounding heaviness. 

“Okay, okay, c’mere,” he’s saying as he gracelessly collects you in his arms, tugging you to his chest. “Hush, nii-san’s got you, nii-san’s here.” 

“Tomu,” you wail, face instinctually burying into his neck as your arms wrap around his shoulders, clutching him tightly. 

“I know, I know,” he’s saying as he shifts your weight to one side, his free hand reaching to snatch your bikini bottoms, floating aimlessly a few feet away. “Nii-san’s gonna take care of it, alright? Nii-san is going to make it all better.” 

His words soothe your sobs to sniffles, voice void of it’s usual bite, his hands gentle but sloppy as they re-tie your bottoms around your hips. 

You’re too fucked out to walk on your own, legs trembly and unsteady, and it’s clear that you have no intention of doing so anyway, not with the way you’re clinging to Tomura like he’s a fucking lifeline, nails piercing the flesh of his shoulder. 

Not that Tomura minds. 

No, Tomura likes feeling needed, Tomura likes fulfilling needs—that’s what a big brother is for, right?

And, as fate would have it, Tomura runs into the very person who started this whole mess, just as he’s carrying your pliant body into the house. 

Really, Tomura supposes he should be thanking him.

But Keigo looks concerned, forehead wrinkling with worry as his eyes scan your limp body, brows pushing together. 

“What’s going on? Is she—”

“Heat exhaustion,” Tomura says as an explanation, shrugging a shoulder in practiced nonchalance, a sharp glint in his eyes. 

“Shouldn’t she—” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Keigo,” Tomura brushes him off airily, already pushing past him. “Her big brother has it covered.”

If Keigo had bothered to look a little closer, he would’ve noticed the haphazard way the strings of your bikini bottoms had been tied, the work of clumsy big brother hands, too large and lanky and uncoordinated. 

If Keigo had bothered to look a little harder, he would’ve noticed the strokes of bright crimson smeared across Tomura’s protruding collarbone, a casualty from your steadily oozing cheek, painted over his skin as you nuzzle into him.  

If Keigo had bothered to look a little longer, he would’ve noticed Tomura’s half-hard cock, straining against the sticky material of his swim shorts, water dripping off the hems and running down his legs, garment plastered to his thighs. 

But Keigo doesn’t bother—or, more accurately, Tomura doesn’t allow him to—so he doesn’t notice any of it. 

Keigo does, however, notice the waterlogged copy of Crime and Punishment, sunk and abandoned on the pool floor—but Tomura doesn’t care about that. 

All Tomura cares about is getting you cocooned in your fluffy pink comforter.

“M’sleepy, nii-san,” you mumble against him, lips dragging over the knobs of his collarbones in a slur, punctuated by a sniffle.

“I know,” Tomura says softly, readjusting his grip on your body and cradling you closer to his chest. “I know, baby. Nii-san’s gonna put you to bed now.” 

He’s awkward with it all, hands too large, too rough, to do it as gracefully as Kurogiri does, but it’s still endearing all the same, moment infused with his distinct charm. 

It’s as he’s pulling away after tucking you in that you manage to worm a hand out from beneath the tightly tucked comforter, hooking an elbow around his neck and pulling him back down, begging for him to stay in a small, fragile, desperate voice. 

“Stay the night this time, nii-san?” 

And Tomura doesn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s only four PM as he nods and climbs into your bed, snug beneath your covers; doesn’t have the heart to tell you that you’ll both be waking up at one in the morning, groggy and starved from sleeping at an odd time and missing dinner, forced to rummage around in the kitchen for some late night snacks. 

Nor does he have the heart to tell you that if Daddy finds the two of you like this again there’s going to be some type of retribution, probably in the form of tightening your restraints, taking them from smothering to near strangling—not that Tomura necessarily cares. 

Daddy spoils you both rotten, but you’re his precious little princess, his prized little possession, and he’ll do what he must to keep you pure and untarnished, untainted, all without knowing that Tomura’s already had his dirty, grubby hands all over you, inside of you—your cunt and your mouth and your heart—and he’s left streaks of sordid stains on your body, on your soul; disgusting and permanent.

But no matter what Daddy does, it won’t matter. Tomura will find a way to weasel past rules and regulations—he always does.

[noira-l]

Just the Two of Us

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

pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

wc: 16,4k

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

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

s.masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑 '𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

Oh yes.

That's what you needed.

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

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

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

"But apparently he's married."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Realisation has struck you, hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you're naked now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just got a little carried away, huh?

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

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

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

Long moment pases.

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

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

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

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

Bitter, sore are your thoughts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart twisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Satoru liked a scery women.

He chuckled to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made his chest ache.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it didn't even started.

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

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

----

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

Regional Candy Festival

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Look at this!" he exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That dammed Six Eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

And he has a really good eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vulnerable. Eager.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he did. God, he did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t need him to say it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so cockdrunk you were begging for more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His head fell numbly onto your breasts.

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

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

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

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

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

You will clean it later. Maybe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He continued, his expression slightly changed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just the two of us."

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

[portalhan]

*ೃ 10:03

↳ your favourite pastime is teasing your boyfriend. it just so happens that his is making you laugh...

PAIRING: seo changbin x gn!reader ^__^

GENRE: fluff, established relationship

WARNINGS: n/a... bad breath idk

FAE'S NOTES: WE ARE SO BACKKKKK!!!!! CHANGBIN BICEP LOVERS CAN I GET A BOOYAH!!!!!!!

"your breath reeks."

changbin's face contorts as soon as he hears you say those three words. the corners of his lips slowly begin to turn downwards into a scoul, his already puffy eyes squinted as he stares daggers into you.

you watch intently as he shows you the face, your own just inches away. in stark contrast, you light up like a firework – your eyes turning into little crescent moons, your hearty laugh filling the bedroom. you couldn't contain your laughter any longer, and changbin is visibly annoyed. he feels your shoulders shake as they rest above his bicep, cheeks flushed, your hair getting all up in his face as you are both laying on the bed, in the same cuddle you were in from the night before.

he keeps his silence as you continue to let more waves of laughter roll through you, and watches you intently. how could he ever stay mad at you when you look so happy?

"you get sulky so easily!" you finally manage to tell him between chuckles, your tummy starting to feel like it's getting wrapped in a knot from all the laughing. changbin loves when you dote on him, so he pouts extra hard when he noticed you were beginning to calm down (he just wants you to tell him he's cute). your face is still lit up like a bulb when you finally stop and reach out to pinch his cheek, which makes him drop the act just as quickly as it began.

"hmph," changbin shrugs and spins his head around, but you spot the tiniest smirk on his face. his head is faced entirely away from you as he says, "you're so ungrateful. this is what i get for giving my baby a kiss first thing in the morning...hmph!"

you double over again, somehow laughing even harder than before. changbin snaps his head back at you with incredulous speed, mouth agape and eyes wide in a fit of faux shock and offense. you just laugh even harder. changbin swipes his arm back from under your back in retaliation, causing you to make an abrupt landing back onto the mattress.

"ow!" your turn to grumble this time, he just chuckles. "that hurt."

"no it didn't," he confidently says with a chirp in his tone almost, arms reaching to scoop you back into his warm embrace. changbin is satisfied. "you're being dramatic."

you hum with joy and relief from cuddling again – mornings are getting so much colder now and changbin is just toasty – and give your boyfriend his favourite kiss. a loud smooch on each cheek and then his lips. you both know you're going to have to get up eventually, but this is one of those moments you pray you could live in for just a little while longer.

[pushing500]

Remember back when we were doing a whole bunch of mysterious brain scans? Well, Alistair is using the persona subcore we got from those scans to build himself a new android friend. I want to see if the "surrounded by androids" mood buff stacks, and androids are very cool in general, so why not?

In between working and clearing memory space at his standing spot, I sent him over to grab a cup of coffee. I always try to keep his mood up; you never know what might be the catalyst for his awakening.

But, you know... he was built by the Jones boys, after all. Of course it was coffee.

Anyway, he's awake!! My boy is sentient at last!!!!!! Welcome to life with clarity and a sense of self, Alistair. We've been waiting for you for so long. He's got the "muscular" trait which means people think he's nice to look at (and by people I mean me), and my Sexuality Traits mod has also decided he's bisexual, which is nice.

I'm so giddy and excited to have him awake at last, and just in time for a new android to join us!! This is so cool!!!!!

First | Next | Previous

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

thinking about:

graduated former cheerleader!dick grayson who comes back to help assistant coach at his former college x a still there cheerleader!reader who was secretly fascinated and sort of infatuated with him when they were on the team together

[wishchip106]

thinking about the fact Charles and Erik had Nina/adopted Jean around the same time after dofp (1975)

their very faint telepathic bond got hit with baby fever but since they were going through their second divorce they had to it themselves 😭🤚

i’m just listening to ‘Die your Daughter’ by Susannah Joffe and thinking about girldads cherik 😞

[lunarlivs]

nye with r + s ⭑

[sukunasbow]

the slytherin boys confessing to you on new year’s eve

➤ blaise zabini

he waits for the right moment during the party in the slytherin common room. when the clock strikes midnight and the two of you are facing each other, not even taking notice of everyone around you celebrating a new year, he looks down at you and cups your face, pausing for a moment to admire you before kissing you.

➤ draco malfoy

he carries you to your dorm room when the party’s over and you’re barely able to walk straight after all the drinking, helping you get into bed and covering you with the blanket, brushing your hair out of your face and placing a trash can next to your bed. draco sits on the side of your bed, placing a comforting hand on your leg. when he thinks you’re asleep, he confesses to you, unaware that you’re awake and can hear him.

➤ lorenzo berkshire

when the crowd in the common room gets overwhelming and the loud music seems to be getting louder every second, lorenzo sneaks you away to his favourite spot in hogwarts, the astronomy tower. the weasley twins have fireworks going off to celebrate and the two of you just sit there and watch as the night sky lights up with different colours. he turns to look at you and you can feel him staring, so you do the same and shift your body so you’re looking at each other. “i’ve liked you since first year. i understand if you don’t feel the same way, but considering it’s a new year, i just needed to tell you. you mean so much to me.” he whispers.

➤ mattheo riddle

he can feel the jealousy radiating off of him as he’s sitting on one of the leather couches in the common room, watching you and harry potter join the rest of the crowd in dancing. your eyes shift to glance at mattheo behind harry’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he basically death stares at the brunette you’re swaying your hips against. when mattheo looks away, you do the same and bring your attention back to him, not expecting it when the angry slytherin walks up to you and harry. “matty? what—” before you can even finish your sentence, he punches harry right in the jaw and starts a fight with the gryffindor boy. later on, the two of you are in mattheo’s dorm as you clean his hands and the mark on his face from the one hit the other boy was actually able to get in. the party is still going on and although you’re pissed at him for ruining your night, he can’t help but tell you exactly why he started the fight and how much he wants you as you wipe some blood off of his bleeding knuckles.

➤ theo nott

theo takes a, slightly, calmer approach to his confession. when he sees you, his best friend, dancing with fred weasley, his immediate response is to shut down and distance himself from you for the rest of the night. he drowns his sorrows in cheap alcohol the twins managed to score for the party. eventually, when you realize you haven’t seen him in a bit, you part ways with fred to go find him. when you find him, he’s drinking alone on one of the leather couches in the middle of the room. confronting him, determined to figure out why he’s acting so weird, he drunkenly confesses.

[wigglebox]

Happy New Year! 🎆✨🌈

I hope 2024 is a gentle and kind year for all!