Gojo Satoru who’s working undercover at a florist shop. He doesn’t know much about flowers, but he hardly thinks it matters, for this obscure florist shop had remained unvisited since he got here a week ago.
It’s nestled in a quaint corner in the city, hardly noticeable — its inconspicuousness being its very shield as it conveniently found itself in the direct eye line to the building he was assigned to watch.
He thinks Yaga might have sent him here out of spite really, but also he thinks that anything could happen, and he would hate it if he was right so he played his part, if only to thwart the satisfaction of Yaga's potential correctness.
And to really hone it in, it starts raining, the clamorous beats of the rain runs on the roof akin to a cascade of hard stones, ensuring that no soul would venture in at such an hour.
Then, like a shifting scene in a play, the bell above the door chimes, and you enter. You flit through with a slew of apologies about your wetness and the rain. And frankly, you’re really pretty so he couldn't care less about the clean-up.
"Uh," he cleared his throat, a practiced smile forming, one he knew appealed to many. "Hey," he says, threading a casualness into his tone.
"Hi," you reply, gracious in demeanour as you offer a nod to your accompanying greeting.
You bend down, carefully balancing your closed umbrella against the door's ingress, before your eyes start wandering, scanning the shop as you advanced toward the counter.
"How can I help you?" Gojo inquires, upholding the same practiced smile, despite his unfamiliarity with the florist's etiquette.
"Right. Um — I need some roses,” you say, mirroring a smile — courteous and formal. His discerning eye catches a wave of shiver that passes through you. He wishes to offer a coat or warmth of any kind but it remains unfulfilled; he had nothing.
“Of course! Any preference in—" And then his eyes flit to the rose section — stashed with only red today. "Color...?" he concludes, somewhat disjointedly.
Amusement twinkles in your eyes, as they come to meet his. "Well, red, I suppose?"
"Red it is!" he quips, moving with haste as he rushes to get them. He reaches for a fist full of the bunch, promptly placing them on the counter before him.
He catches you staring at the other flowers as he works, your drenched appearance only seemed to amplify how pretty you seem to look.
He smiles, as he talks again, breaking the silence, “So who are these roses for? Parents? Sister? Grandmother — Aw, she's not sick, is she?” He frowns, with a look of pity and you stare back with your eye brows raised — concerned and cautious.
As your silence persisted, he made another attempt. “Um, or are they for a friend?”
An internal chant commenced — Please don’t say boyfriend. Please don’t say girlfriend. Please don’t mention a partner. Please. Please. Please — but he knows he’ll do nothing of it. It’s odd, really. This senseless chase of his.
"Actually," you say, your tone finding a precarious balance as you squint in response. "They're for my boyfriend."
“I hope he dies,” the mutter that leaves his mouth is immediate, and shocking even to him.
Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What?" you blurted.
Acting swiftly, he retraced his words with fluidity, “I hope he likes... the flowers,” he recants, like the liar he is.
A pregnant pause ensues, a silence ripe with tension.
"Right. Thanks," you managed, your mask of politeness only slightly marred by the odd exchange.
"For valentine's day, ah? Perfect choice," he quips again, with a smile as fake as his enthusiasm.
You don't know what it is that prompts you to speak up but you do. "More of an apology, actually," your tone softening as the confession escaped your mouth.
He responded with a mere hum, as his attention resumed its focus on the flowers before him.
A few beats pass.
"Should you really be working here this late?" you ask casually, your gaze assessing the store for another person, a mentor perhaps. "You seem young."
"Well, you're young too," he retorted. "Should you be out here at this hour?"
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. "Nah, Mom's going to kill me, but young love and all that. Sacrifices must be made."
Something twinges inside him — will he ever experience this? Young love? Does he even want to?
"Well, I hope this guy appreciates the gesture if you're going through all this trouble," he adds.
"Yeah, fingers crossed." Your chuckles fluttered after your words nervously.
His fingers reached for satin ribbons, his hands moving deftly, crafting delicate arcs to bind the bouquet tightly.
He held his hand out to you with the bouquet now, wrapped in a simple gossamer wrap, "Well, here you go. I hope they do the trick."
"Thank you," you responded, reaching for your purse. "How much do I owe you?"
"Just a moment," he finally says, disappearing into the back of the shop. He returns with a small card, slipping it into the bouquet with practiced ease. "Here you go."
"Thanks again," your smile was a touch more authentic than the first time.
He smiles, and waves you a little goodbye as you make your way out after paying him. The rain seems to be cleared out and you start making the trek down to your boyfriend's place. And as you walk, there's something within you that nags and nags and urges you to do it.
You pick up the card placed inside the bouquet by the peculiar man you just encountered.
You turn it over, and you notice flowery calligraphy presenting a number, alongside a message: "In case your boyfriend doesn't appreciate the roses. Call me :P"
You could only laugh out loud, like a madman on the street. The sheer audacity of it all.
However, you don't seem to realise how you end up pocketing the card instead of throwing it out at the nearest bin.
Part 2
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I have such a gross fantasy of Joshua Hong fucking me gently in front of a fire in a cabin while it snows. That man is so romantic and sweet I have a toothache
"warm now, baby?"
you smile and hum in affirmation as you hug your knees to your chest, watching joshua stoke the fire.
he joins you on top of the blanket he'd laid on the floor a moment later when the flames are roaring and the firewood is crackling in the hearth.
then he wraps his arm around you and kisses you on the forehead. "what about now?"
"even better," you answer. "but i think i could stand to be even warmer."
joshua raises his eyebrows. "oh yeah?"
"mhm."
you shrug off his arm and lay down on the blanket, pulling him with you so that he's hovering over you. he gets the hint instantly, probably because it wasn't so much of a hint as it was an obvious invitation, and kisses you on the lips. he's tugging at your thermal top in almost no time, pausing only when he remembers just how cold you had been up until this point.
"are you sure you want to do this now? we can wait."
"yes, i'm sure. i want you now, shua," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles behind his back to pull him closer.
he half laughs, half moans as you grind up into him, feeling him start to harden through his sweatpants.
"okay, why don't we keep your shirt on then? we can take everything else off."
it's not really a compromise you want to make but you settle for it anyway, too desperate to try and protest further.
joshua pulls your shirt back down over your tummy and moves on to your pants, getting them and your underwear off in one fluid motion. he whistles under his breath at the sight between your thighs.
"no wonder you were so impatient. you're already soaked for me."
you've been dating for so long that you shouldn't get flustered when your boyfriend says things like that but you feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment all the same. he smirks at your reaction which makes you even wetter, something you hope he doesn't notice.
"poor thing. i won't make you wait too long, baby. just a second..." joshua yanks his t-shirt off over his head and lays it underneath yours like a pillow before shimmying out of his sweats and slotting himself between your legs. "ready?"
"yeah, give it to me."
"so romantic," he mutters, pushing himself inside of you anyway.
it isn't often that joshua fucks you without any foreplay but the main goal today is to warm you up and anything that isn't straight-up fucking you would leave part of your body exposed to the cold. like this, he can lay his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket and keep you warm as he gently fucks into you. it's exactly what he does, draping himself over you as he starts to move.
already, you feel warmer. whether it's due to the fire, his body heat, or his dick inside of you, you can't be sure but if you were a betting woman, you'd put your money on it being a combination of the three.
he's going slow to let you adjust to the stretch but it still feels like he's splitting you in half with every thrust. it feels heavenly, though. almost too good. you swear you're seeing god every time he bottoms out and the way he's praising you like you are one is making it impossible to stay grounded.
"i love you," joshua whispers, pressing his lips to your neck. "i love you so much, you're taking it so well for me."
it's all too much. too much and not nearly enough and you want to stay like this with him forever but you also want to fucking cum over and over and...
and he looks so pretty in the firelight. the ever-changing glow flickering against his skin makes him appear radiant, like all the colors of the sunset are being projected on him in waves.
"feels so good, shua," you gasp, back arching off the floor.
he strokes your cheek. "i can tell. you're crying already, my love."
you sniffle, giggling deliriously as you try to blink the tears out of your eyes. his figure is blurred behind them and you want to see him clearly. "i d-didn't even notice. 'm sorry."
"don't apologize, baby. you know i love making you cry- well, in this context, of course. means i'm doing something right."
"you're doing everything right," you confirm.
joshua sucks in a breath to steel himself before continuing. "for what it's worth, you f-feel so good too, baby. you're so fucking warm and tight... i don't know how long i'm going to last."
he sounds apologetic about it but you shake your head and grip his shoulders like you're going to give him a pep talk. "we have all night," you assure him. "we can go as many times as we want, as long as you're here keeping me warm."
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I see a lot of people talking about what Chloé and Kim did, and I think I'm missing something? What did they do?
In a more recent episode "Derision," (sloppy sum up below)
its discovered that the reason Marinette is so stunted, awkward, and generally staccato about dating Adrien in spite of genuinely liking him, is because she was a major victim of Chloe's the year prior. During that year, Chloe threatened anyone who would attempt to befriend her, isolating Marinette completely, only having a friend in a girl named Socqueline who would relentlessly defend her.
At the time, Marinette had a crush on Kim, and so Chloe, knowing Kim loves pranks, had him "prank" her at the pool as a fake confession. As Kim offered a fake, heartfelt confession in return for Marinette's own, he gifted Marinette a box full of spiders, causing her to flip out and fall into the pool from the high end. Sabine and Chloe were filming the whole thing, and planned on posting it on social media to openly mock her. The only thing stopping them is Socqueline, who legitimately kicks the phone out of Chloe's hands.
This leads into why Marinette is so bad at confessions. After a year of being harassed, bullied, and isolated, she takes a chance on love, and is only horrifically and publicly mocked. Her attitude towards Adrien makes more sense with this context - deeply and passionately loving him, but constantly hesitating on the last step, as last time was so devastating. She's got some severe trauma around confessing and connecting with love interests, as she assumes they're always going to mock her in the end.
I really wish this episode had been planned earlier in the series, because it DOES give good insight as to how bad Marinette had it, and would've been great context for the audience. Not long after, Socqueline had to move away, too, so Marinette had to rebuild her entire social network from the ground up, with several people in the class who didn't mind humiliating her for their own amusement.
Also I really liked Chat Noir/Adrien going sicko mode on Kim. PLEASE kill that boy Adrien. I am BEGGING YOU. He tries to cataclysm Kim in the fucking face. I was thrilled. I thrive off negativity
Using this as groundwork in the dad villain au, having all that shit happen to Marinette alongside losing Sabine essentially made her go "wow I am going to quit school and work at my dad's business. bye" which is super ironic because that is ALL gabriel wants adrien to do lmao
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