#Like I said I love seeing people's OCs and this is the first time sharing my own of any fandom | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arachine · 2 years ago

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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)

── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst

── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.

or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.

── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot

── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(

songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way

After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.

Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing.

When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks.

You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince:

“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’”

There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up.

“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”

Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.

“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”

Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”

“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad.

“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?”

Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there.

You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily.

“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”

Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy.

“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”

“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.”

The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level.

A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”

It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes.

Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him.

You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after.

“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.”

The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping.

“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”

Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”

“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner.

Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence.

“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question.

“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod.

“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’

Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement.

“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul.

“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.

“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.

“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”

The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall.

“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat.

“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”

Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice.

Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.

“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed.

“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”

“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life.

“You tried any dating apps?”

It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”

“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?”

“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”

“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?”

The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Never.”

There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces.

“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”

“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”

“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”

For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes.

The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars.

“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!”

“Right…”

The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too.

Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match.

“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”

The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace.

about 8 years ago . . .

“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail.

“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’.

“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry.

“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.

“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response.

“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”

“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”

Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”

“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.

“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.

By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.

“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”

Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself.

You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality.

“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”

The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.”

Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone.

Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type.

Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more.

It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit.

Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders.

As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it.

The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties).

Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.

You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)

Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.

Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile.

You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.

You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?

The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds.

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?

You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol).

You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so?

You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice.

You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)

Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say.

Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…

Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other.

Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it.

His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this).

You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too.

You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago.

The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.

You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.

Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)

The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.

You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half.

In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’.

You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way.

Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult.

“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’”

When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.

Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call.

“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet.

“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.

“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body.

Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!”

It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother.

The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking.

“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.”

You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”

“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention.

“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki.

“Come in, hon!”

After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room.

“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception.

“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment.

Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time.

“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”

“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly.

Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana.

“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate.

“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you.

“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone.

“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue.

“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them.

“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here.

“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know.

“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.

“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–”

“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him.

“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it.

“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something.

“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”

You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder.

You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t.

And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact.

You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase.

“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger.

Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?”

You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now.

“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway.

“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go.

“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”

Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs.

“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’.

You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children.

“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep.

“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him.

“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted.

Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight.

When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity.

Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say.

He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date.

Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.

Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further.

Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now.

Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot.

Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first.

In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out.

And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch.

“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”

“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks.

Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?”

He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom.

“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”

With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you.

“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.”

By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation.

“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.”

Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting.

“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”

Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious.

“Wait, what?”

“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d.

“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance.

“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness.

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?”

The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”

He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes.

“I don’t know…” you trail.

“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow.

Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway.

“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you.

“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.

“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.”

“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?”

Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.”

“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter.

“Those kids, man.”

“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.

“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed.

When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate.

You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating.

This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed.

There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit.

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence.

Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more.

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”

“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”

“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver.

Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers.

Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door.

The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?”

“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.

“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.

“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time.

Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?”

“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?”

“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you.

“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?”

“Gojo.”

Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal.

The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly.

“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”

“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.”

While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat.

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence.

You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water.

“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?”

Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows.

When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?”

Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?”

Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly.

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?”

Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass.

“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased.

“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment.

“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?”

Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy.

“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed.

“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–

“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!”

“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.”

“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.”

The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song.

[...] I don’t even know how to love you

Just the way you want me to

But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)

“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns.

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them.

“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”

Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame.

“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”

Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage.

I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems.

The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were.

Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down.

There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling.

Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful.

Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs.

The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–

“Jump.”

Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay.

Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles).

“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs.

“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.”

Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago.

“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”

“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?

“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.”

With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees.

Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound.

Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core.

The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love.

“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.”

You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you.

Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation.

For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?

“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins.

“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?”

You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue.

“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”

“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit.

“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.”

Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor.

He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them.

But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes.

Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone.

God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand.

As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you.

Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears.

The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers.

Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously.

“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.”

Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm.

Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind.

“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.”

The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You.

Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally.

Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt.

“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give.

“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.”

Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium.

“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.”

Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days.

Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp.

Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more.

“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration.

By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you.

Soon, that silence is broken.

“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do.

“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads.

“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying.

“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”

“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”

“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”

That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you.

“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages.

“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants.

“Shit!”

Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you.

“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!”

Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.

“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom.

Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

#art by: @yamada_souko (twt)#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk smut

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xjulixred45x · 12 days ago

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OMG!!! THAT WAS SO GOOD!

It was so fun to read and it give me so many ideas that i would like to share if you don't mind.

Kid! Yuu insists in carrying Grimm around. Imagine being an NRC student and you see this kid with their 1.19/1.30 carrying this 90cm cat,is just comic.Grimm is not complaining.

Kid! Yuu randomly drops a lore info; they are with the boys, and out of nowhere they go, "One time I didn't see my mom and dad for 2 days." "Mama was acting funny a couple days before I appeared here. She looked at me oce and said that I was a burden. I don't know what it means, but it doesn't sound good." And the boys are just (⊙_⊙)? You can go nuts with this one.

I think that Jack would be one of the most careful with Kid! Yuu, they reminded him of his siblings. So if you go to Savanaclaw, you're going to see this big as hell wolfman, and his little ray of sunshine, full of trauma, but a ray of sunshine.

The staff is pressuring Crowley to find a way back, but not for Kid! Yuu go back to that empty house with no love, caring, or joy. Actually, they justwant to beat this kid's parents so much that they not gonna remember they on names.

Kid! Yuu still go to class, but the teachers give them activities that kids of their age would learn. Vargas basically plays with them while the boys are dying doing the real P.E. class.

I can see Trein being one of the most worried with Kid! Yuu situation, a little more if kid! Yuu is a girl,reminds him of his own daughters.

The boys and staff need to teach them some things for this kid's sake, like, "If you have a problem, you can and should talk with a grown-up." "If you want something, you can ask us."Stuff of the type.

I would really like to hear your thoughts about those too. Remember to eat and keep hydrated. Bye~

-🐦‍⬛✨

This is so good! Lmao

Grim lets his little henchman carry him around for NRC (he won't admit it, but he likes that Yuu helps him feel important and grown-up), even if it makes things a little difficult. Besides, if anyone tries to mess with them, Grim can easily breathe fire back at them—it's a win-win.

The first-years, being the ones who interact with Yuu the most, are definitely the first to realize something's wrong with this kid. It's not something direct at first, but rather certain habits Yuu has that reveal him as someone who grew up too fast (being too independent or mature for their age, knowing how to cook, clean, and so on on their own, not trusting adults, etc.).

Ace probably once caught Yuu stockpiling food at Ramshackle. The reason? "In case I get grounded without food," it takes Ace a full minute to process what this kid just said. And thenautomatically drags them off to have tea and eat some of Trey's candy at Heartslabyul . Ace isn't very good at this kind of thing, but he DEFINITELY knows it's not normal for a little kid to do that, and he needs someone RIGHT to point that out to them.

Deuce also notices some of Yuu's unusual habits, but especially when he talks about their home. When Deuce told them about his mother and how he wanted to make her proud, Yuu looked at him in a way they never had before. they said his mother wasn't happy with them either, that sometimes they wouldn't see her or thier father for days, but that was okay because then they wouldn't be a burden to them (Deuce proceeded to hug Yuu for three hours straight).

Jack is the one who affirms, the one who assures Yuu that they're not a bad kid, that their parents weren't good people, and most of all, that they deserves to be loved. He's especially gentle with them; they remind him of his little sibilings, so it pains him greatly to see how little affection they received in their life, and he's willing to change it. I can see Jack easily giving in to Yuu's whims, such as transforming into a wolf so Yuu can ride or sleep on him, hanging on his shoulders because he's tall, etc.

Epel definitely tells Yuu straight up that if he runs into their parents, he'll beat them up in seven different ways. Aside from that, he's great at making the kid laugh, whether it's with words from his original dialect/accent, exaggerated Vil imitations, or going on little escapades to get some candy/junk food for themselves. He's also taught Yuu a few tricks on how to use their "cute" appearance to their advantage to escape trouble.

Sebek makes a huge effort to not be so loud around Yuu, realizing that it brings back very bad memories for them, or at least encourages them to be louder and more vocal about what they want. He's the most offended and genuinely angry at the kind of treatment Yuu's parents gave the kid, and assures them that while they're in Twisted Wonderland, they won't have to fear being hurt, that they'll protect them. He's quite affirming without knowing it.

Ortho and Yuu are basically best friends; they're both in a new world and deeply curious about everything around them. Although, of course, Ortho tries to take more care of his more fragile, flesh-and-blood friend. Ortho ends up being the one who teaches Yuu various social skills like "stranger danger" and "trusted adult," and, above all, that if they feels ill or something bad happens to them, they can count on their friends to help them!

The teachers are so partial to Yuu, that while the others are practically fighting for survival in the hellish Vargas camps in the middle of nowhere, Yuu is playing jump rope with Ortho and Grim. While everyone else is dozing off listening to Trein's lectures, Yuu is completing a short basic quiz for the day, with Lucius on their lap. While the others are making potentially explosive potions, Crewel is teaching Yuu basic chemistry.

Sam has definitely given Yuu a couple of gifts to cheer him up when they feeling particularly down, whether it's their favorite food, an item they's been eyeing up, or something unexpected. You never know with Sam. Crowley is happy that he doesn't have to pretend he was looking find a way to get Yuu back home now that everyone's warmed up to them, or well, now they're demanding that he do it, but to... beat up their parents? Well, he might consider it.

After all, Yuu has united the school in a unique way, it's the least they could do, right?

_________

(ESPAÑOL)

Esto es muy bueno! Lmao

Grim deja que su pequeño secuaz lo cargue por NRC (no lo admitirá, pero le gusta que Yuu lo ayude a sentirse importante y grande), incluso si le dificulta un poco. Aparte, si alguien trata de meterse con ellos, Grim puede fácilmente escupirles fuego, es un ganar-ganar.

Definitivamente los de primer año, al ser los que más interactúan con Yuu, son los primeros en darse cuenta que algo malo paso con este niño. No son cosas directas en un inicio, sino mas bien ciertos hábitos que tiene Yuu que lo delatan como alguien que creció muy rápido (ser demasiado independiente o maduro para su edad, saber cocinar, limpiar y demás por su cuenta, no confiar en adultos, etc).

Ace probablemente una vez sorprendió a Yuu haciendo una reserva de comida en ramshackle ¿la razón? “en caso de que me castiguen sin comer”, a Ace le toma un minuto entero procesar lo que este niño acaba de decir. Y automáticamente después lo arrastra Heartslabyul para tomar el té y que coma algunos dulces de Trey. Ace no es muy bueno en este tipo de cosas, pero DEFINITIVAMENTE sabe que no es normal que un niño pequeño haga eso, y necesita que alguien ADECUADO le diga eso.

Deuce también nota algunos de los hábitos inusuales de Yuu, pero más que nada cuando habla de su hogar. Cuando Deuce le hablo de su madre y como quería hacerla sentir orgullosa, Yuu lo miro de una forma que nunca lo había hecho, dijo que su madre tampoco estaba feliz con ellos, que a veces no la veía ni a ella ni su padre por días, pero estaba bien, porque así no sería una carga para ellos (Deuce procedió a abrazar a Yuu por tres horas seguidas).

Jack es el de la afirmación, el que le asegura a Yuu que no es un niño malo, que sus padres no eran buenas personas, y sobretodo, que merece que lo quieran. Es especialmente gentil con ellos, le recuerdan a sus hermanos pequeños, por lo que le duele mucho ver el poco afecto que ha recibido en su vida, y está dispuesto a cambiarlo. Puedo ver a Jack cediendo fácilmente a los caprichos de Yuu, como transformarse en lobo para que Yuu lo monte o duerma sobre él, estar sobre sus hombros porque es alto, etc.

Epel definitivamente le dice directamente a Yuu que si se topa con sus padres les va a partir la cara de 7 formas diferentes. Aparte de eso, es un grande en hacer reír al niño, ya sea con palaras de su dialecto original/acento, imitando a Vil de forma exagerada o yendo en pequeñas escapadas para conseguir algunos dulces/comida chatarra para ellos solos. Tambien le ha enseñado un par de trucos a Yuu sobre cómo usar el aspecto “adorable” a su favor para escapar de los problemas.

Sebek hace un esfuerzo enorme de no ser tan ruidoso cerca de Yuu al darse cuenta de que eso trae muy malas memorias para ellos, o al menos, los incita a ellos a ser más ruidosos y claros con lo que quieren. Es el más ofendido y sinceramente enojado ante el tipo de trato que le dieron los padres de Yuu al niño, y le asegura que mientras este en twisted wonderland, no tendrá que temer que lo lastimen, que lo van a proteger. Es bastante afirmativo sin saberlo.

Ortho y Yuu son básicamente mejores amigos, ambos están en un mundo nuevo y tienen una gran curiosidad por todo lo que los rodea. Aunque claro, Ortho trata de cuidar más de su más frágil amigo de carne y hueso. Ortho termina siendo quien le enseña a Yuu varias cosas sociales como “peligro extraño” o “adulto de confianza” y sobretodo, que, si se siente mal o algo malo le pasa, puede contar con sus amigos para ayudarle!

Los profesores son tan favoritistas hacia Yuu en este caso, mientras que los demás están prácticamente luchando por sobrevivir en los campamentos infernales de Vargas en medio de la nada, Yuu esta jugando saltar la cuerda con Ortho y Grim. Mientras que todos se están durmiendo escuchando las lecturas de Trein, Yuu esta completando un pequeño cuestionario básico por el dia, con Lucius en su regazo. Mientras los demás están haciendo pociones potencialmente explosivas, Crewel le enseña a Yuu química básica.

Sam definitivamente le ha dado un par de regalos a Yuu para animarle cuando le ve especialmente decaído, ya sea su comida favorita, algún artículo que haya ojeado o algo sorpresa. Nunca se sabe con Sam. Crowley esta feliz de que no tiene que (fingir que estaba buscando) buscar una forma de que Yuu vuelva a casa ahora que todos se encariñaron con ellos, o bueno, ahora le exigen que lo haga, pero para…¿darle una paliza a sus padres? Bueno, puede que lo considere.

Después de todo, Yuu ha unido la escuela de una forma única, es lo menos que podrían hacer ¿no?

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

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yellowbrokenblue · 8 months ago

Text

The Club - Part Two

Maya returns to the club to see Harry, unaware that his friend would also be waiting there for her…

Harry x Niall x OC

read part one here

cw: smut, oral, degrading, threesome, idek all u need to know is this is the filthiest thing i’ve ever written thank me later

Harry didn’t stop watching the club entrance. His eyes were glued to the door all night, and since he’d been here, he had asked the bouncer at least three different times if she had arrived yet.

But it wasn’t until 11pm he noticed her, the same blonde bouncy curls shining under the dim lights. He couldn’t wait to have her again.

“That’s her?”

Harry turned to his left, where his friend was sat in a booth, with a glass of whiskey clutched in his hand.

“Yeah. Maya, her name is.”

“She’s hot.”

“Uh, huh.”

He stood up and weaved his way through the crowd of people towards her, his hand grabbing her waist from behind as soon as he reached her.

“You told me you’d be here an hour ago.” Harry said into her ear, startling her with his presence. “You’re late.”

“Harry.” She breathed, turning around to face him.

“Maya.” He replied.

A mere 24 hours ago they were stood in the same place on the same dancefloor while he fucked her with his fingers, and as much as he’d love to repeat last night’s event, Harry had other plans for her tonight.

He took a step closer to her, his lips brushing over her ear.

“You look so good, Maya.” He said, “This little bralette and your short skirt.”

He smirked, hearing a small whimper escape her lips.

“Did you get dressed up for me?” He asked, “All for me?”

“All for you, Harry.”

Harry breathed her in, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of her and her perfume. He couldn’t wait to have her again; he didn’t plan on wasting any time.

“We’re doing things a little different tonight.” Harry said, “I don’t do this with everyone.”

“What is it?”

Harry smirked.

“There’s someone I need you to meet before we can get started.”

He led her over to the booth, adjusting his pants as he walked. The anticipation had reached his dick.

They reached the table, where Harry’s friend was sat waiting for them, his eyes following Maya as she walked. Harry gestured for her to sit in the booth first, and he slid in next to her.

“Maya, this is my good friend Niall.” He said, placing a hand on her bare thigh.

“It’s nice to meet you, Maya. Harry has told me about you.” He said, in a thick irish accent, “He’s told me what a good girl you are.”

“Oh,” Harry said, squeezing her thigh, “A real good girl.”

Maya looked between the two men sat with her. They were probably the two most attractive men she’d ever seen in her life, and they were both staring her down like they wanted to completely devour her.

Her lips parted, with another small whimper.

“D’you mind if I share you with Niall tonight, gorgeous? I can’t always keep a pretty little thing like you to myself all the time.”

“Share?” She questioned, “You both…?”

“We both want you, Maya.” Niall said, “Do you want us?”

Her panties were soaked just from looking at both of them. She wanted to moan just from their words.

She nodded in reply to them.

“I wanna hear you say it, baby.” Harry said, “Tell us you want us.”

“I want you.” She said to Harry, before turning to Niall, “Both of you.”

“’Atta girl.” Harry grinned.

Mayas attention turned to Niall as he began to speak.

“Now, Harry got you last night, but I haven’t had you at all.” He said, smirking, “So I’d like some proof that you want me, Maya. Show me how much you want us.”

Confusion spread over her face, but she wanted them both so badly she was willing to do pretty much anything.

“Do you want me to…” She gestured towards his pants.

Niall chuckled, “No, honey.”

“Niall likes his girls to work for it.” Harry interrupted.

“Work for it?”

“Yes.” Niall said, “We’re gonna stay here, at this booth, until you make yourself cum, and then Harry and I will give you whatever you want.”

“Have you made yourself cum before?” Harry asked. “You’ve touched yourself before?”

She nodded, “I haven’t made myself cum before…”

“You can do it,” Niall said, “And then we’re all yours.”

Maya reached for her skirt, hiking it up as far up her hips as they could go, before sliding her panties all the way down her legs, taking them off completely.

Feeling brave, she lifted the panties off the floor and placed them on the table. Both of their jaws clenched.

Maya felt their eyes on her as her hand slowly crept towards her dripping wet pussy. She was soaking for them, and Niall and Harry both knew it from the state of the panties she had placed on the table.

The let out a soft moan as she ran a finger through her folds, before reaching her clit. The fact she was in a club with hundreds of other people didn’t even bother her in this moment, all she wanted was to please the two guys next to her.

“Look at her, Niall. Moaning already.” Harry said, “She’s so desperate for us she’s gonna jerk herself off just cause we asked her too.”

“So compliant.” Niall said, “So needy.”

Two of her fingers slowly circled her clit, applying the right amount of pressure for her to moan at her own touch.

“That’s it, Maya.” Harry said, “Keep going.”

“Oh!” Maya groaned, her fingers speeding up.

“Do you feel good, Maya?” Niall asked, “Do you feel good touching yourself? Do you feel good with your fingers in your cunt?”

“Uh, huh.” She moaned, her hips bucking against her own fingers.

She wasn’t close yet, and if she wanted these men to fuck her then she was going to have to make herself cum. In another attempt, she took her other hand and tried to mimic Harry’s actions yesterday, pushing two of her own fingers into her entrance, and pumping them in and out as fast as she could.

“Oh, she’s desperate, Ni, you gotta see this.” Harry said, gesturing for Niall to move next to Maya. “She got two hands going now.”

Niall sat next to her, his dick rock hard as he watched her touch herself.

“Are you imagining Harry’s cock inside ya right now, imagine him filling you up?”

She nodded, desperately throwing her head back as she cried out.

“I’m close.” She said, “I’m so close.”

“Keep going.” Harry said, “Cum for us, baby.”

“I can’t.” She cried, “Not without you, Harry.”

“Yes you can, Maya. Just keep those fingers moving in your pretty little pussy. Niall and I are right here for whatever you want when you finish.”

“Oh!” She moaned, her clit pulsing with the pressure.

“How ‘bout I have a little taste of that pussy of yours later,” Niall said into her ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, “And maybe you can suck Harry off while I’m doing it.”

“Does that sound good, Maya?” Harry asked, “You ready to be a dirty little whore for us?”

Harry’s words seemingly were all she needed to tip her over the edge. Her orgasm came crashing down on her, and she cried out both of her names as she came. She rested her head against Nialls shoulder, regaining her breath.

“Oh, you’re as good a girl as Harry told me.” Niall said, “Can’t wait to try you out.”

Harry grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and shuffling closer, his mouth moving to her neck. Niall smirked at his actions, and done the same, both men attacking either side of her neck.

Her cunt was aching for them, all she wanted was for them to wreck her. She didn’t care what the done to her she just wanted them so bad that it hurt.

She moaned as they sucked on her skin, and Harry grabbed her hand, pressing it against his crotch.

“Need you get you upstairs, baby. I need you to sort this out for me.” He said.

“Take off your skirt though.” Niall said, “It’s dark, no one’s gonna pay attention. But I wanna see that cute little naked ass climb the stairs.”

“That’s barely a skirt, Niall.” Harry said, “Our dirty little slut dressed in barely anything because she wants to fuck us so bad.”

“What’s upstairs?” She asked, as Harry slipped his fingers under the waistband of her skirt, pulling it down off of her legs.

“I got a room up there. Nothin’ special, just where Niall and I like to fuck pretty girls.”

The three of them left the booth, and Mayas legs were shaking so much with anticipation that she barely made it to the staircase. Harry took her by the hand, leading her upstairs, and Niall pinched her ass, grinning as they approached the bedroom.

“Get your shirt off.” Harry said, “Bra too. There’s too much we want to do to you, we’re not wasting any time.”

“C’mon, c’mon, Harry.” Niall teased, “Take it slow, take it slow. I haven’t even kissed the girl yet.”

Without warning, Nialls lips were on Mayas. He tasted of the whiskey he’d been drinking, but smelled of expensive cologne. His fingers were tangled in her hair when she felt Harry come from behind, sliding his hands around her waist, kissing down the back of her neck.

Her aching cunt was screaming to be fucked, and her hips absentmindedly bucked against Nialls, grinding against his erection.

He pulled back, smirking.

“Someone’s eager, hm?” He questioned, in which Maya responded with a nod, “Get on the bed then, on your hands and knees.”

“Thought you were gonna eat her sweet little pussy out?” Harry questioned.

“I change my mind. I need my cock in her.”

“I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, baby girl, and you’re gonna suck Harry’s fat cock while I watch it drip out of you.”

She swallowed, her big eyes looking up at the two men.

“You heard him,” Harry said, “On the bed, Maya.”

She climbed up onto the bed, crawling on her hands and knees.

“Aw, look at her, Niall.” Harry said, “Her pussy is fuckin’ dripping for us.”

Harry pulled his pants off, along with his briefs, letting his erection spring free before kneeling in front of Maya on the bed.

“You think you can take it?” Harry asked, “Daddy’s big cock in your mouth?”

She nodded, eagerly.

“Let me make you feel good,” She begged, reaching for his dick.

“Not yet, baby. Not till I watch the look on your face when Niall shoves his dick all the way up your pretty little body. Wanna watch you.”

Taken by surprise, Niall was already positioned behind her. He quickly lined his cock up with her entrance, and pushed himself all the way in.

She screamed with ecstasy, the feeling of his dick all the way inside her making her feel pleasure she’d never felt before.

“So fuckin’ tight.” Niall said, “Your pussy feels so good on my dick, Maya. Taking it like a good little whore.”

She moaned as he pulled almost all the way out of her, before quickly thrusting inside of her again.

“Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum.” He moaned.

Maya groaned, her head looking upwards to look at Harry. Their eyes met and she moaned.

Niall’s thrusts became faster, Mayas mouth wide open as she took him.

“Get Harry’s dick in your mouth, Maya.” Niall said through a moan, “I want him to cum in your mouth the same time I cum in your cunt.”

Maya wasted no time listening to Nialls demands, and reached for Harry’s dick, taking the tip in her mouth.

“All the way, Maya. You can’t take me.” Harry said.

Harry came closer to her, forcing his cock further down her throat. She moaned as it hit the back of her throat, holding back a gag.

“Oh, Maya. Your mouth feels so fuckin’ good.” Harry moaned.

With hollow cheeks, her lips pressed tightly on his dick, his hips bucking forwards as she sucked him off.

Maya was ridiculously close to an orgasm, struggling to concentrate on anything, but she knew Harry was close to finishing. Niall fucked rough, and she wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer.

“Don’t worry, Maya.” Harry said, “I got it from here, you done such a good job, baby. Now let me watch as you cum all over Nialls cock.”

She dropped Harry’s dick from her mouth, and allowed herself to be ruthlessly fucked by Niall. She screamed their names over and over until she snapped.

The most mind-blowing, insane orgasm of her life washed over her, soaking Nialls cock with her cum.

“Look at me when you’re cumming, Maya. I want to see you.” Harry said in front of her.

Their eyes met, Mayas mouth hanging open as cum dripped from her pussy.

She moaned, her body falling limp and her head crashing into the bed as she rode out the last of her high.

Niall continued to thrust into her, his hips bucking against her until he came inside of her, moaning as his cum filled up her pussy.

The three lay on the bed, catching their breath, for a few minutes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, baby.” Harry said. “We can’t have a pretty thing like you looking all messed up like this.”

“But Harry,” Maya said with big eyes, “I haven’t had your cock yet.”

Harry swallowed. Her smudged eyeliner, her swollen lips… He was down bad.

“I want you to fuck me up.”

masterlist kofi

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linaslore · 3 months ago

Text

s.h. | we need to warm up (one shot)

a/n: it's been a while since i posted a steve fic, so here it issssss. this is a combination of a friends episode and a scene from an old tv show i used to watch when i was a teenager.

warnings: being locked up in closed spaces, language, mentions of sex and injuries (freezing), english is not my first language. some stuff may not be accurate. MINORS DNI. credits to the gif owner!

summary: steve and you worked at scoops ahoy together and one day while you two were bickering about something silly, you got stuck in a walk-in refrigerator.

steve harrington x afab!oc!reader.

🚫do NOT copy, translate or put my work thru an AI.

Robin, your best friend, helped you get this job at Scoops Ahoy a couple of months ago. The work itself wasn’t ideal because you had to put up with a lot of annoying people (and cleaning toilets wasn’t very appealing either), but the pay was pretty good and it allowed you to combine it with your study schedule. The best parts were obviously the free ice cream and sharing shifts with your bestie.

You also had to share several shifts with Steve Harrington. You didn’t like him at first if you were being completely honest. You knew him from before because you had shared a few classes at Hawkins High, but you never actively talked to him. He was very handsome and charming, but his reputation of being a womanizer and a douchebag preceded him so for you that was enough to keep your distance.

However, everything changed when you took on this job. On the bright side, has had some personal growth over the last few months so this made spending time with him a lot easier. Of course, the King Steve persona sometimes came into the light and he could get insufferable, but you still enjoyed his company. You could say you had more of a ‘frenemies’ relationship. Definitely, one of the things that amused you the most was bickering with Steve, so when the work day was quiet, you’d pick a silly argument just for the sake of it.

Thus, that’s what led the two of you to discuss the topic of sex in the middle of one casual Saturday afternoon in mid-September at Scoops Ahoy. The weather was chiller than the one from previous weeks, but there were some people that weren’t going to let the climate get in the way of getting ice cream. You couldn’t blame them though. Robin was at the register machine, getting the customers’ orders and Steve and you were organizing the stock at the back of the shop.

“Harrington, are you really saying that kissing and foreplay are not as important as the sex part!?”, you exclaimed a bit too loudly while you glared at your coworker with a questioning look. He just quirked his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders meaning ‘Yes, I said what I said. Deal with it.’

You didn’t feel any shame talking about these topics. In fact, you were pretty bold. Especially with Steve. He had that vibe that made everyone around him feel comfortable with discussing or doing anything. Of course. King Steve, ladies and gentlemen.

“Why would I prefer the opening act when I know I’ll be seeing, I dunno, The Police soon?”

You let out a chuckle.

“You have been spending more time with Eddie, haven’t you?”, he gave you a mocking look. It was no secret that Steve wasn’t a fan of Eddie, especially because recently he had been stealing Dustin’s attention and that made Steve more jealous than he cared to admit. You couldn’t help but smile at the cuteness of Steve and Dustin’s relationship and his jealousy.

You grabbed one of the boxes with new ice cream flavours that were recently delivered to the shop because you had to carry them to the walk-in refrigerator, but since the two boxes were really heavy you asked Steve for help. At first he pretended to ignore you, but then he smiled teasingly and grabbed the other one to give you a hand. You had trouble deciding whether you hated that smile or you loved it… It was probably the latter.

As soon as you entered the refrigerator, the chilly air hit your skin. You carefully placed the box you were carrying on the floor and put the door wedge so it wouldn’t close while you were in there. The door was pretty heavy because it needed to stay shut in order to keep the temperature low, but also, the door handle wasn’t working pretty well.

“Anyways, for us girls they’re really equally important”, you resumed your little argument while you two arranged the ice creams on the various shelves, categorizing them by their flavor. “We can get all the information we need about the other person from the first kiss. I can’t believe you don’t like it.”

You looked at him from the corner of your eye and noticed that he rolled his.

“No, honey”, he paused and sighed. You screamed internally at the pet name. He usually called you by your name or ‘Smarty Pants’ whenever you gave him witty comebacks. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I do, but I’d rather get down to the real business quicker.”

“Well, hun, friendly advice, if you keep thinking like that, you’ll have to settle with solo concerts.”

Steve wanted to give you the middle finger so badly but couldn’t do it because he had his hands full so he had to contempt himself by sticking out his tongue in a mocking tone. You gave him a playful nudge on the shoulder and then he gave you another one back but Steve was stronger than you so you tripped backwards and accidentally kicked the door wedge and the refrigerator door closed.

“Fuck”, the two of you blurted out in unison; your heartbeats picking up rapidly. You exchanged looks and frowned your eyebrows at the same time. Under different circumstances, you would have laughed at the synchronicity.

“This is your fault.”

“How is this my fault, Harrington? You pushed me!”, you replied back while you got up from the floor and adjusted your uniform.

“You made me come in here!”

“I simply asked for your help!”

You decided it was useless to continue with this bickering so you kneeled down before the door handle to try to make it work. However, it was useless. The door refused to budge. You had repeatedly asked Keith, your boss, to call the repair guy to fix said handle but of course he never did. You cursed him under your breath while you got back up and started screaming and banging on the door.

“ROBIN! HELP! SOMEBODY”, Steve joined you but nobody seemed to hear. “HELLO, WE’RE INSIDE THE REFRIGERATOR!”, you both screamed over and over again.

“I hope Robin notices quickly we’re nowhere to be seen. If not, we’re going to freeze to death”, you lifted your hands to massage your scalp, trying to prevent yourself from spiraling. Extremely difficult task given the not so encouraging situation. You didn’t consider yourself a claustrophobic person but you weren’t a fan.

“Don’t exaggerate, Y/N. It’s just a little bit of cold”, he shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing off your very real concern.

If looks could kill, he would be reduced to ashes right now.

“Unlike you, I don’t have teenage-like hormones, Steve. I get cold easily.”

He was about to reply with another witty comment, but he noticed how anxious you were getting. He saw your right leg start bouncing rapidly and how you bit your fingernails—subtle things you did when you were nervous or distressed. He had noticed them before. He let out a defeated sigh.

“OK, I’m being serious right now: we’re going to get out of here in a heartbeat, don’t worry.”

You went back to the screaming and banging, hoping that someone outside would hear you at that very moment and get you out of there. Unfortunately, you were alone with the echoes of your voice and movements. Meanwhile, Steve was pacing the small place, thinking of any other possible escape.

After some minutes that felt like hours, the cold and the confinement were starting to take a toll on you. You sat on the floor with your back against the door to keep hitting it, more occasionally now. The Scoops Ahoy uniform was not enough to keep you warm; your body started trembling so you hugged yourself, keeping your knees close to your chest. Steve heard your shivering breaths. He scanned the ‘room’ one more time and saw the empty cardboard boxes stacked where you had been organizing the ice cream.

“We can use the empty ice cream boxes to keep us warm”, you gave him a questioning look. encouraging him to clarify. “We can break them down to sit on them and then put the other parts over our bodies”.

“God bless that big head of yours, Harrington.”, you smiled and tried to stand up but it wasn’t as easy as before. Your body was getting stiffer. Steve gave you a hand.

The two of you started tearing up the boxes and placing the flattened pieces on the floor next to the door and then cutting up bigger sections to use as makeshift blankets.

“Well, it’s better than nothing”, Steve commented once you were all set and you agreed, keeping the cardboard boxes as close to your body as possible.

It was far from being the perfect solution, but it worked… for a couple of minutes. Then, you started shivering again. You got up to the point where you could no longer feel your legs. You wanted to keep screaming and banging on the door but the little energy you had was starting to wear off. You decided to save it for later.

“Fuck, it’s so cold in here. I can’t stand it anymore”, you blurted out, more to yourself than anything and tried to rub your hands violently against your legs to get some warmth.

“Come here”, Steve whispered while opening his arms, motioning you to huddle closer to him so you could share whatever body heat you had left. It was true, Steve had a higher body temperature than any other person either of you knew but he wasn’t sure of how much that was going to last. He was feeling colder too.

You were hesitant to accept his embrace at first because you weren’t used to sharing physical contact with him but you quickly decided that it was worth trying it. Once you were beside him, he put his arms around your shaking frame and put two cardboard boxes over both your bodies. He rested his head on top of yours and you hugged him, wrapping your arms around his waist. Despite everything, this felt strangely nice and comfortable.

“We’re gonna get out of here, I promise”, he said after some silence and you could see the wisps of vapor that looked like smoke coming out of his mouth.

You were too tired and weak to say or do anything. It seemed the temperature kept dropping every second. There was some frost on your hair and your eyelashes. Steve had it on his perfect hair too. At this moment, you actually believed you were going to die there. You snuggled closer into Steve’s embrace; not that it was really possible because you were practically glued to him.

You slowly started to drift off; your eyelids felt like two bricks of concrete. Steve went into alert mode when he felt you relax under his touch. “Hey, Y/N. Can you hear me?”

You let out a barely audible “Mh” and he started rubbing circles on your arm, close to your elbow.

“Stay awake, OK?”

He knew you couldn’t fall asleep if you had hypothermia. He didn’t know why but he remembered one of his biology teachers who explained that your body functions would slow down even more, which could be deadly. He didn’t even want to imagine that happening.

At first, he didn’t want to admit he liked you because you were a pain in the neck, but then, as he spent more and more time with you, he learned you were funny, smart, and although you annoyed him to boredom sometimes, you were kind-hearted. Also, you had one of the most contagious laughs he has ever heard. And on top of that, you were insanely pretty.

This drastic situation helped him realize he didn’t want to lose you, in any way. He couldn’t.

“I can’t.”, you whispered once again.

“Yes, you can”, his hands moved upwards to cup both your cheeks now; his desperate eyes fixed on your face. “Open your eyes, please, darling”. You wanted to laugh at the nickname but you didn’t even have the strength to do so. His voice was trembling now too. He didn’t know if out of the cold he was feeling or of the fear of something happening to you. He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Come on, I wanna see those pretty eyes.”

“I’m cold, Stevie. I’m sorry.”

You only used that nickname to tease him because he hated it. Now, it scratched his brain just right. He didn’t fail to notice you looked so small, so fragile. He didn’t know how, but he could feel you slip away from him.

“No, no, no, no”, he blurted out quickly. “Y/N, listen to me. Focus on my voice and my hands”, he rubbed circles on both of your cheeks. “Don’t fall asleep. Talk to me.”

His serious but also desperate tone made you realize the gravity of your state.

“About what?”, you whispered as you tried to get your whole attention to his gentle touches and his breathing.

“About anything. Tell me a secret, a memory, an embarrassing story. Whatever comes to your mind, just talk to me.”

You gathered strength out of nowhere and opened your eyes. You saw Steve sigh with a little bit of relief. He also looked exhausted and cold, but there was something in his eyes that told you he was not giving up easily. You couldn’t say so for yourself, sadly.

“Your pretty eyes are the last pair I’m going to see”, you spoke slowly. Steve’s heart broke a little at your statement.

“No, don’t say things like that.. I need you to stay here with me. Please. I need you to stay alive so I can take you on a date when we’re out of here”, his voice and the movements on your skin were starting to slow down too. “I don’t want to leave this planet before kissing your beautiful lips.”

You gave him a weak smile.

“Do it now, Stevie.”

He lifted his eyebrows, thinking he heard you incorrectly. But then, you directed your eyes to his own lips, so he took it as an invitation and wasted no time. The kiss was slow and short but sweet nonetheless. None of you had much energy to keep going for longer, much to your dismay.

“That’s the way to warm up, right?”, he joked and you let out a choked laugh.

You went back to your tight embrace. You weren’t sure how much time you had left. You stopped trembling a couple of minutes ago and you knew that wasn’t a good sign. You thought about your family and your friends. One single tear fell from your left eye.

Just about when Steve was going to wipe it, you heard some noises on the other side of the door. You two looked at each other and Steve used the adrenaline rush to get back on his feet and helped you do the same.

“HELP, WE’RE STUCK IN THE REFRIGERATOR. PLEASE HELP”, Steve was the one yelling and you attempted to bang the door as loud as you could.

And then, the door finally opened. You squinted your eyes due to the sudden change of lightning and tried to make out the silhouette that was standing in front of you, but before you could see who it was or do anything else, your legs gave in and your vision went black, which resulted in you passing out on the ground.

Your eyelids fluttered open as the characteristic antiseptic hospital smell hit your nose. The sterile white walls were the first thing you saw. Your body still felt cold, even though you had several blankets wrapped around your frame. You turned your head to the side and saw Steve sitting on a chair, wrapped on a blanket as well. His eyes were closed and his head was slightly tilted to the side. He looked worn off but really adorable.

“Steve?”, you called his name but you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was really sore. The boy opened his eyes and gave you a sweet smile. There was a mixture of relief and concern in his look.

“Hey… You gave us quite the scare.” You apologized and he shrugged it off. “Your parents are already here. They’re filling out the paperwork.” He grabbed the chair and moved it forward to be closer to your bed. Then he grabbed your hand that was hidden under the blankets. “I should call the doctor to let her know you had woken up.”

You nodded but refused to let his hand go so he could stand up. His heart melted.

“We need to talk about our date”, you casually mentioned between giggles.

“You don’t waste a minute, don’t you?”, he chuckled, shaking his head. “I assure you, it’s going to be a date to die for.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

aaaand the end... i hope you enjoyed it! and as always, i'd love to read some comments with your opinions :) and i'm also taking request, so there's your chance to leave a nice ask 💗

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #x oc!reader #oc character #fanfics #fanfic writing #joe keery #x reader #fluff #angst #friends #frenemies #hurt/comfort #reader insert

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paxaz535 · 15 days ago

Text

The Space Between Us (1)

paige bueckers x black!oc

synopsis :

Best friends since childhood, Kamiya and Paige always thought their bond was unbreakable. But when they reunite at the family cabin after years apart, the line between friendship and something more begins to blur. As the tension between them builds, they must face what they’ve always known deep down: they’ve been more than close all along.

(this contains smut [in next chapter] !)

—————

Kamiya and Paige had always been close—ever since they were five years old, playing together in the sandbox in Paige’s backyard.

Their fathers, Bob (Paige’s dad) and Jonathan (Kamiya’s dad), had been best friends since high school. They bonded over their shared love of basketball and had been inseparable ever since.

That love for the game carried on to Paige, who practically grew up with a ball in her hands. Kamiya, not so much. She was always more into volleyball than anything else. Bob and Jonathan tried getting her into basketball, but it just never stuck.

Still, Jonathan supported his daughter through it all—especially after Kamiya’s mom walked out on them one random Thursday night.

Ever since that night, things had changed. Kamiya didn’t talk about her mom much—not because she didn’t care, but because she had learned not to expect answers. Jonathan picked up the pieces the best he could, and Paige’s family helped fill in the gaps.

Sleepovers became more frequent. Paige’s step mom would braid Kamiya’s hair and pack her snacks for school when Jonathan had to work late. To Kamiya, the Bueckers’ house started to feel like a second home.

By the time middle school came around, Kamiya and Paige were more like sisters than friends. They did everything together—sat next to each other in every class, FaceTimed every night even when they had just seen each other, and had inside jokes that nobody else understood.

People used to say they were attached at the hip. And for a long time, they were.

But then high school happened.

At first, not much changed. They still walked to school together, still sat next to each other at lunch, still sent each other outfit pics every morning to coordinate. But little things started to creep in—new friends, different classes, separate teams.

Paige made varsity basketball her freshman year. It was a big deal. Suddenly, she was surrounded by older teammates, practices every afternoon, and the buzz of school recognition. Kamiya was proud of her—she really was—but it stung a little to see less of her.

Kamiya had joined the volleyball team, and while she loved it, it didn’t get nearly as much attention. Her games were barely half full, and no one was writing about her in the school newsletter. Paige always said, “You’re killing it out there,” but sometimes it felt like she was just being nice.

They were still close. Still best friends. But there were moments—between texts left on read, and the “sorry I can’t, I have practice”—where Kamiya wondered if Paige was outgrowing her.

And then came the real test: boys.

Or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Paige had never really shown much interest. Sure, she’d play along when the other girls gushed about whoever was “so fine” in third period, but Kamiya always noticed how quiet she got when the conversation got too deep.

Kamiya, on the other hand, was trying to figure it all out. She’d dated a guy in freshman year for about two weeks—Derrick, from biology—but it felt more like checking a box than actually liking someone. She laughed at his jokes, let him hold her hand in the hallway, but when he kissed her outside the gym after practice, all she could think was, Is that it?

Meanwhile, Paige seemed perfectly content not dating at all. When Kamiya brought it up once—just teasing, like: “So, when are you finally gonna get yourself a boyfriend?”—Paige had only shrugged, looking away.

“I don’t really like boys like that.”

Kamiya had blinked, caught off guard. “Oh.” She tried to play it cool, but her mind spun.

She’d never thought about it before. Not really. But that night, lying in bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not about Paige specifically—at least, not yet—but about how she’d felt when this girl from the volleyball team had called her pretty the other day. How her stomach flipped in a way it never did with Derrick.

Something was shifting.

And even though Kamiya didn’t have the words for it yet, a small part of her—buried deep and quiet—was starting to stir.

It started with the little things.

The way Paige would laugh so hard she’d throw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. The way she always remembered to bring Kamiya extra sour gummy worms on game days, even though she hated the smell of them. The way she always seemed to know when something was off, even when Kamiya hadn’t said a word.

One Friday night, they were at Paige’s house watching a movie. It was some cheesy rom-com they’d seen a million times, but Paige insisted it was tradition. They sat close—closer than usual—legs tangled under the blanket they always shared.

Halfway through the movie, Paige fell asleep. Her head rested on Kamiya’s shoulder, her breathing soft and even. Kamiya didn’t move. She just sat there, completely still, heart thudding in her chest.

She looked down at Paige, her face relaxed in sleep, and for the first time, she realized something terrifying.

She didn’t just love Paige.

She liked her.

Not in a best friend kind of way. Not in the way everyone joked about when they called them “a married couple.”

In the way that made her heart ache a little. In the way that made her scared to say it out loud.

She stared at the TV, not really seeing it anymore. Her throat felt tight.

Because what if this was just her?

What if Paige didn’t feel the same way?

What if it ruined everything?

Kamiya gently leaned her head on Paige’s, trying to quiet the storm in her chest.

She didn’t have the answers yet.

But she knew one thing for sure:

Something had changed.

The next morning, Kamiya acted like nothing had happened.

She cracked jokes, scrolled through TikTok with Paige like usual, and even teased her for drooling in her sleep. But inside, she was spiraling.

She kept replaying the night in her head—the weight of Paige’s head on her shoulder, the soft warmth of her breath, the way her heart had nearly exploded just sitting there.

And it only got worse from there.

At school, Paige was all smiles, greeting people in the hallway, dapping up her teammates, laughing with that same effortless energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. But Kamiya couldn’t stop watching her. Couldn’t stop feeling everything.

It was torture.

Especially when Paige hugged her from behind in the cafeteria like she always did—only now Kamiya felt her entire body freeze. Her brain screamed, Act normal.

She didn’t.

Paige noticed. “You good?” she asked later, brows furrowed as they sat outside during free period.

“Yeah,” Kamiya lied, eyes on her water bottle. “Just tired.”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve been weird all day.”

Kamiya shrugged. “You’re weird every day. Guess it’s contagious.”

Paige rolled her eyes, laughing. But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The thing was, Kamiya didn’t know how to say what she was feeling. Didn’t know how to ask Paige if maybe—just maybe—there was something there between them too.

Because if she was wrong, it could ruin everything.

And for the first time in years, she felt like the distance between them was growing—and she didn’t know how to close it.

It happened at a party.

One of Paige’s teammates—Jas—was throwing a huge end-of-season thing. Kamiya didn’t even want to go, but Paige had begged her to come. “Please? Just for a little bit. I’ll even buy you your weird kombucha.”

So she went. Regretted it the second they walked in.

The music was loud. The lights were dim. And Paige? She lit up the second they walked through the door, dapping up her team, laughing, moving through the room like she belonged there.

Then there was her.

Nia. A sophomore who played soccer and looked like she belonged in a Nike ad. She and Paige had a class together—or so Kamiya had heard.

She watched from across the room as Nia leaned in, too close, whispering something into Paige’s ear. Paige laughed, hand brushing Nia’s arm.

Kamiya looked away fast, pretending not to care. Pretending she didn’t feel like someone had lit a match in her chest.

“I’m getting some air,” she mumbled to no one in particular, slipping out the back door.

She stayed out there for a while, letting the cold bite at her skin. Letting herself breathe.

Paige came out eventually, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Kamiya said, a little too fast. “Just needed some space.”

Paige nodded, but didn’t push. That almost made it worse.

“I got accepted!” Kamiya screamed, practically launching off the couch as the email loaded on her phone.

Jonathan, Bob, Paige, Drew, and Moe all erupted into cheers from around the living room. Jonathan pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground, his face split into the proudest grin she’d ever seen.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Knew you had it in you.”

Paige was the next to hug her—tight, warm, familiar.

“I told you!” Paige beamed. “I knew they’d want you.”

Kamiya laughed, still in shock. “Guess I’m college material now, huh?”

Paige nudged her. “You’ve always been.”

Kamiya’s acceptance came just a day after Paige found out she was headed to UConn on a partial basketball scholarship. Everyone had celebrated her news too—Jonathan and Bob had cracked open a bottle of champagne, and Moe had baked cupcakes with “UConn” spelled out in blue frosting.

Kamiya had been genuinely happy for her. Paige was going to a school that fit her. She’d be playing the sport she loved, living in a place where she could finally shine. It was perfect.

But there was a part of Kamiya—a quiet, insecure part—that wondered what it would mean for them.

They wouldn’t be at the same school. They wouldn’t walk the same hallways or eat lunch under the same tree anymore. It wouldn’t be FaceTime at midnight after a bad practice—it’d be maybe catching each other’s texts between classes or team meetings.

And what made it worse was… they still hadn’t talked about that night. The party. The way Kamiya had walked off. The way Paige had looked at her, confused, maybe even hurt.

So Kamiya smiled and celebrated like nothing was bothering her.

But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping through her fingers.

Kamiya’s three years of college had been everything she hoped for. She made new friends, joined a cultural org that felt like family, traveled for tournaments with her volleyball team, and even landed a sweet internship sophomore year. She was proud of the woman she was becoming—confident, steady, doing things for her.

But this time of year always pulled her back.

It was May now. Finals were almost over. Her junior year was closing out, and soon she’d be stepping into her final year of undergrad. A part of her was thrilled—excited for what was ahead. But another part, quieter and heavier, kept tugging her back to something… someone.

Paige.

She hadn’t seen her in person since last summer. She’d heard about the injury—a torn ligament, maybe? Something that benched her for most of the season. Kamiya found out through Instagram before she heard it from Paige directly. That stung a little.

They still texted sometimes. Liked each other’s posts. Sent the occasional meme. But it wasn’t like before. Not even close.

And maybe that was okay. People grow apart.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

What haunted Kamiya most wasn’t the distance. It was the fact that she never told Paige how she felt. Not really. Not in a way that counted.

She could’ve said it a hundred times. At that party. Before they left for college. At the lake last summer by the fire, when Paige looked at her like she knew.

But she hadn’t. And now, she didn’t know if that window had already closed.

Still… something about this summer felt different.

It was just a feeling—an ache in her gut, a whisper in the back of her mind—but Kamiya knew.

Something was going to happen.

She just didn’t know if it would heal her…

Or break her completely.

Kamiya sat on the edge of her bed, her suitcase open but barely touched. Clothes were piled on the floor around her—sweatshirts she might need if it got chilly, the swimsuit Paige once joked she looked hot in, and an old T-shirt Paige had left behind years ago that Kamiya never returned.

She stared at it now, fingers brushing over the faded cotton.

There were a thousand things she wished she could say. She wanted to tell Paige she missed her. That she was proud of her. That the distance hadn’t changed how she felt—not really.

But those words had stayed stuck in her throat for three years.

Now she was going to see her again.

And it scared her.

Not just because of what she might feel—but because of what she might not feel. What if too much time had passed? What if Paige didn’t even think about her like that anymore—if she ever did?

Still, she packed the shirt. Just in case.

The driveway crunched under the tires as she pulled up, late afternoon sun dripping through the trees. Her chest was tight.

As she stepped out, the smell of pine and lake water hit her like a memory. She heard voices from the porch—laughter, low conversation, the familiar warmth of family that hadn’t changed.

Then she saw her.

Paige.

Sitting on the porch steps, wearing an oversized hoodie, her joggers hanging low on her waist. Her hair was longer now, tied in a messy bun. But her smile—when she looked up and saw Kamiya—was still the same.

Kamiya froze for half a second, unsure what to do with everything crashing through her.

Then Paige stood—slowly, carefully—and walked over.

“Three years and you still pack like you’re moving across the country,” she teased, eyeing Kamiya’s giant duffel.

Kamiya grinned, nerves tangled in her chest. “Some things never change.”

Paige’s eyes held hers for just a moment longer than they needed to. “Some things do.”

Kamiya’s heart skipped.

The words weren’t loud.

But the meaning behind them?

Louder than ever.

Kamiya was woken up by a huge splash of water. She shot up, gasping as the freezing cold soaked through her shirt and bonnet.

Laughter and hurried footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Go! G—go!”

She didn’t need to see them to know who it was—Drew and Paige.

Kamiya sat there for a moment, stunned, water dripping down her face. She knew they didn’t mean any harm by it—but come on. Waking her up with water? When she hadn’t asked to get wet? It pissed her off.

She jumped up with a loud scream, startling Bob and Jonathan, who were casually watching a random Lakers game on the living room couch.

Her bonnet clung to her head, soaked through. Her hair—freshly washed the night before—was completely drenched again.

“Paige! Drew!” she yelled, stomping down the stairs.

The two culprits were lounging on the couch chairs, feigning innocence.

“Why are you screaming?” Jonathan asked, turning his head, clearly confused.

“They poured water on me!” Kamiya snapped.

Paige and Drew exchanged a look. “No we didn’t—” Drew started.

“Don’t lie to me, Drew,” Kamiya cut in sharply.

That’s when she realized what she was wearing.

She looked down and groaned. The white sleep shirt she had on was now see-through, clinging to her like a second skin. Her red bra was very visible, and the soaked fabric hugged her curves like a compression top.

Moe was the first to notice, letting out a soft giggle as she covered her mouth. “Sweetie, you might want to go change.”

Kamiya closed her eyes and sighed, this whole morning already going to shit.

Paige looked up at her—and instantly turned pink.

Her eyes darted away too quickly, like she’d seen too much and wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Moe, you possibly couldn’t have brought weave.. could you?” Moe, already knowing just laughed.

“I have it, sweetie. We can start on your braids when you get changed.”

Kamiya didn’t say another word. She just spun around and stormed back upstairs, muttering curses under her breath.

Upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms, Kamiya sat cross-legged on a stool while Moe stood behind her, parting her hair with practiced fingers.

The soft pull of the comb, the gentle tap of Moe’s rings brushing her scalp—it all slowly started to calm her down.

“I swear,” Kamiya muttered, wincing as Moe gripped a stubborn section, “they think they’re so funny.”

“They’re just trying to get under your skin,” Moe said, amused. “That means they missed you.”

Kamiya rolled her eyes, even though a tiny part of her knew Moe was probably right. Still—water?

As Moe started the first braid, the smell of bacon and toast drifted up through the cracked bedroom door. Kamiya’s stomach growled on instinct.

Moe smirked. “Smells like guilt.”

Downstairs, Paige flipped another pancake, trying to act cool while internally panicking. “Is this too much syrup?” she asked, holding the bottle over a plate.

Drew looked at her, unimpressed. “You’ve poured it like five times already.”

“I just—she’s mad, Drew.”

“She should be! You soaked her like she was in a car wash,” he said, smacking her hand away from the syrup. “Just focus on the eggs.”

“I’m trying, okay?” Paige muttered, cheeks still flushed.

Back upstairs, Moe’s fingers moved quickly through Kamiya’s hair.

“You know,” she said gently, “there’s always a moment during braids where you gotta sit still and let yourself breathe. Might as well use the time to figure out what’s really bothering you.”

Kamiya didn’t respond at first. She stared out the window, watching the lake shimmer in the distance.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said. “And maybe… a little annoyed she looked at me like that.”

Moe raised a brow. “Like what?”

Kamiya hesitated, then sighed. “Like she saw something she wasn’t ready to see.”

Moe smiled to herself, fingers still moving. “Or maybe she saw something she’s just now realizing she likes seeing.”

Downstairs, Paige carefully placed a plate with pancakes, eggs, and turkey bacon on a tray. Drew added a glass of orange juice.

“She’s gonna throw this at us,” he whispered.

“She won’t,” Paige said, unsure.

They started up the stairs, holding the tray like it was a peace offering made of gold.

Upstairs, Kamiya sat quietly while Moe worked through her hair, parting and braiding each section with care. The gentle pull of the comb and the quiet hum of Moe’s voice were grounding—but her mind was still spinning.

She wasn’t even that mad anymore. Just… embarrassed. Caught off guard.

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

“Uh… Kamiya?” Paige’s voice came gently, almost unsure.

Kamiya glanced over her shoulder. Paige stood in the doorway holding a tray, and Drew lingered behind her, both of them looking a little too nervous for comfort.

“We made you breakfast,” Paige said, her tone lighter now. “Kind of an apology-slash-peace-offering.”

Drew held up a mug like it was a trophy. “And coffee.”

Kamiya looked at them for a second, then at the tray. Pancakes, eggs, turkey bacon. Her stomach growled at the sight—and Paige heard it, a flicker of a smile pulling at her lips.

Moe gave Kamiya’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Smells good. You should eat before I finish the back.”

Kamiya exhaled, her walls softening. “I wasn’t that mad,” she said quietly, eyes shifting between them. “Just… surprised. I had just washed my hair.”

Paige nodded, her face full of guilt. “I know. I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry, Kami.”

Drew nodded too. “Same here. It was supposed to be funny, but we messed up.”

Kamiya gave a small shrug and glanced at the tray. “You didn’t have to do all this,” she mumbled, reaching slowly for the fork.

“We wanted to,” Paige said, her voice soft. “Especially me.”

Their eyes met—just for a second. It held longer than either expected.

Kamiya looked away first, trying to hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, okay,” she said, finally taking a bite. “This is good.”

Paige visibly relaxed, laughing a little. “Thank God. I was one burnt pancake away from giving up.”

Moe chuckled behind them. “And that’s why I stay in my lane.”

Kamiya giggled softly, chewing her food, her mood lighter now. “You’re lucky this is good,” she said, pointing her fork at Drew and Paige. “Next time y’all do something dumb, I’m pouring water back.”

“Fair,” Drew said with a grin.

Paige smiled. But hers lingered a bit longer, watching Kamiya with something more in her eyes. Something gentle. Unspoken.

And for once, Kamiya didn’t look away too fast.

The sun had started to dip behind the trees, casting a golden hue across the lake. The water shimmered, rippling softly from the occasional breeze. It was peaceful—so much calmer than the chaos of this morning.

Kamiya sat on the dock with her feet dangling just above the surface, her braids freshly done and pulled back in a loose ponytail. She hugged her knees to her chest, letting the quiet settle around her.

Footsteps approached, slow and unsure.

She didn’t need to look up to know it was Paige.

“You mind if I sit?” Paige asked softly.

Kamiya shrugged. “It’s your dock too.”

Paige eased down beside her, careful not to get too close. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the sound of birds in the distance, water lapping against the wood, and the hush of trees swaying in the wind.

“I really am sorry,” Paige said eventually, her voice low. “Not just about the water. About… everything.”

Kamiya turned to look at her. “What do you mean, everything?”

“I mean… I know we’ve drifted. And I didn’t try hard enough to stop it. I thought maybe I was giving you space, but maybe I was just scared you didn’t want to be that close anymore.”

Kamiya blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“I never wanted to not be close,” she said. “But we were growing up. I figured you were just busy. And I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never bother me,” Paige said quickly, her eyes locking with Kamiya’s. “Never.”

The air grew still for a moment. Their gazes held, longer this time. Kamiya’s chest tightened, heart starting to beat a little faster.

“I missed you,” Kamiya admitted, the words barely a whisper.

Paige swallowed. “I missed you too.”

There was something hanging in the air between them now—something unspoken but deeply felt.

Paige hesitated, then added, “Earlier… when your shirt was—uh, see-through…” She trailed off, cheeks already turning pink. “It wasn’t just the water that threw me off.”

Kamiya blinked. Her heart jumped.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Paige paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve always liked girls. You know that. But with you… I didn’t let myself think about it. Not really. Until today.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy—it was electric.

Kamiya looked out over the lake again, exhaling slowly. “I don’t know what I like yet,” she said honestly. “But when you looked at me like that… it didn’t feel wrong.”

Paige turned toward her, eyes searching hers. “It didn’t?”

Kamiya shook her head. “No. It felt… different. But not wrong.”

A smile tugged at Paige’s lips. “So… maybe this summer’s gonna be different.”

Kamiya finally smiled too, soft but real. “Maybe it will.”

And for a moment, they just sat there—side by side—letting the possibility hang between them, warm and bright like the sunset behind the trees.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic

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sundayeleith · 24 days ago

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Ok I need to talk about the origin change and MC's uselessness and not very neutral description in the demo. I'll talk about the rest of the updated demo and the positive stuff in a later post. Here I want to at least reiterate concerns and criticisms others already expressed, and that I haven't shared here yet. It is very important to put this out there since there is sadly no feedback survey and so the devs know that a lot of us are bothered by the change and why.

Edit : I made another post to talk about the positive stuff right here !

For that, I do hope the devs open a feedback survey for the demo V2.

That said. Do not send hate to the devs, nor be hateful or insulting towards them. Criticism should always be respectful to the effort put into the work people have done and the people being it, as well as civil. Nor me nor others in the fandom want to see the patreon backlash hate wave be recreated ever again.

Before I start, I want to say I respect RSS and their work. As a backer, I can attest they are working hard on this game and show proof of it each update (or at least talk about it). I know they are doing their best to give us the best experience possible and put this banger game out there for everyone to enjoy. I do hope the devs will take these feedbacks to heart while understanding it comes from a place of love ✨ 🫶

/!\ Minor spoiler warning for the updated demo /!\

At first the background change was a good surprised. I was hyped. Also the general hype about the update itself had a part to play in it. As I was playing, it bothered me more and more up until I talked about it with others.

Cutting the Hound origin for the Exiled was a bad idea. Let me explain.

First of all, RSS used the Hound in the marketing of the game for the past 2 years minimum, including for the KS. It was also still present in the demo V1 for 2 years. Almost everyone who made fan MCs used the 3 origins as a framework/blueprint/prompt to shape their characters and backstory around, if not simply assigning one of the 3 origins to their OCs. People got not only used to it but after that much time had the time to build intricate lore around their characters. Cutting it like this so abruptly upset and overwhelmed a lot of people who just saw their storytelling of 2 years being discarded. For a lot of people, me included, TS is a mean for escapism and comfort, and also linked to usual fandom creative hobbies (art, writing, rp, cosplay etc...). So I totally understand the emotionnal distress some people felt.

Second of all, no one was warned and I think that it was not the best move. The origins are put in the forefront and made seem important by the dev team (emphasis on "seem", cause it's not so far). For the reasons above, at least communicating on it and asking the community for feedbacks about this change would have been better (and if not asking the whole fandom, asking the KS backers could have been an option).

Third of all, this change is useless in the current state of the game because MC was unchanged. Not only lines for the alchemist backstory are also on the 2 other routes (prob an error/bug), but why present a survivalist origin if MC still cannot fight at all ? In the demo V1 and V2, MC seem to be an after thought in writing, which is not bad in itself if not for the origins being put in the spotlight that much only to be the most useless choice of the game. Aside a handful of lines being changed there's no difference in how MC acts or interract with the world. It's not that big of a deal tbh, but then why present the origins as if it's going to bring major changes to the game when it doesn't (at least for now) ? Maybe it becomes more relevant in the full game, but that is an aspect of the game that should be noticeable from the start with how important they make the origin seem to be. Also I think they should either fuse Exiled and Hound OR bring back the Hound and flesh them out more (that's my opinion tho).

Then I have two other points that bothers me about MC. Their helplessness no matter the origin and the fact they are assumed to be small and dainty. What do you mean alchemist and houd/exiled MC cannot fight and get the whooping of their lives against a Soulless ? In a world that unforgiving I assume for the Alchemist to use spells and at least try to defend themselves and for the Hound/Exiled (esp the Exiled tbh) to know how to keep their ground in a fight with a Soulless. If Mhin can kill a Soulless that easily despite them being average sized and looking not that strong, then MC sure can too. I get that Mhin needs to be introduced but it doesn't need to be because MC is useless as hell. They could jump in not to miss on the bounty. Or cause MC could be in a tight spot and despite being able to win Mhin jumps in. I'm sure there's other examples too. Now on the size markers many people complained about in the past being unchanged is a bit of a shame. It could be easily fixed by removing any mentions of MC's size (esp with Ais, but with Kuras too that would be nice) or akin to the pronoun choice menu let people chose between at least 3 sizes (small, average and tall) and make dialogue changes according to that choice. Now, it's easier said than done which is why the first option is more feasible and the one I would chose (also, less work).

These issues aren't "that big of a deal", but the one about MC's size is actually the worst one. I know not everyone is under 6 foot not skinny. Sure the descriptions matche me and my MC, but wasn't it the goal to be inclusive ? Seeing friend mutuals and fellow fandom members yet again not feel represented and acknowledged in a game they love when they already have so little representation is sad to say the least. I stand in solidarity with you guys, and your concerns about this are valid. I know that RSS didn't do that to be malicious, but it is time in 2025 to truly keep everyone in check in terms of inclusivity (again, no hate while doing so else it's just bullying)

#sunday talks #touchstarved game #touchstarved demo update #touchstarved spoilers #hound solidarity

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kaitoshimizu · 24 days ago

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Hello everyone!! I hope you're all doing well!

For the past few days, I've had an idea for a new drawing of Mychael to post here, but I haven’t been able to even sketch it out yet due to a lack of free time, haha. So, to share a bit more of my art with you, today I’ll be posting 3 drawings of Mychael with three different and amazing people!

The first drawing was a birthday gift for @hojalattta .

I actually remember sketching it inside the car that day because we were traveling pretty far away for vacation, haha. I think it was around 11 or 12 at night when I managed to finish and send the drawing just in time! From the reaction I got through chat, I think she really loved it! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ 🩵

Date: January 29th

The second drawing was for an art trade with the incredible and super friendly artist, @carlnotfound !

Oh my gosh, I was so nervous and embarrassed to ask them, haha, but it was totally worth it!

They asked for a drawing of themselves and Mychael sitting together in front of a fireplace, with their head resting on Mychael’s shoulder, wrapped together in a blanket—and I accepted the challenge!

After about three days, I finished the piece!

They absolutely loved it, and honestly, it made me so happy that such an amazing artist I admire so much enjoyed something I created. ( ´；ω；` )

(Just a little note: I’m still very insecure about coloring, so I might end up posting more black-and-white sketches until I gain more confidence!)

Date: April 6th

And the third drawing is dedicated to @yamimushroom !!

Someone who’s without a doubt one of the kindest people I’ve met.

One day, while we were talking, she mentioned she had an OC—and since I absolutely love giving gifts, I immediately said, “...Could you send me your OC? I'd love to draw them for you!” And so she did!

I got straight to work on the sketch and the next day, I finished it and gave it to her with so much excitement and hope that she’d like it—and she did!! She truly cherishes it with all her heart (╥﹏╥)♡ ❤️‍🩹

Date: April 18th

Wow... it’s amazing to see how much my style has changed over just a few months! Haha.

I really hope to keep improving my art little by little—and who knows, maybe I’ll go even further than I imagine!

As a little extra, I just want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the incredible support you gave my very first post (the birthday drawing for Cheea).

It’s honestly overwhelming how much love it received in such a short time.

I appreciate you all so, so much. (T﹏T) ♡

As soon as I have more time, I’ll definitely upload that new Mychael drawing I mentioned earlier!

As I always say, it might not be the best thing you’ll ever see, but I hope it can still bring a little bit of joy, haha.

Thank you so much for reading, take care, and I hope you have a wonderful day, evening, and/or night!! (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ ✨♡

Hola a todooos!! Espero se encuentren bien! Desde hace unos días he tenido en mente un dibujo de Mychael para subir aquí pero por falta de tiempo libre no he podido ni hacer el boceto jejeje, así que para que conozcan un poco más de mi arte, aquí dejaré 3 dibujos de Mychael con 3 diferentes e increíbles personitas!

El primer dibujo fue un regalo de cumpleaños para @hojalattta , me acuerdo que incluso llegué a dibujar en el auto al justamente ese día tener que viajar desde uff, lejos! Eran vacaciones jsjsjs, recuerdo que eran aprox las 11-12 de la noche y le envié justo a tiempo su regalo que por su reacción por chat, creo que le agradó muchísimo! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ 🩵

29 de Enero

El segundo dibujo lo hice para un Art trade con el increíble y muy amigable artista, @carlnotfound !! Dios, me dió tanto nervios y vergüenza pedirselo jsjsjs, pero sin dudas valió totalmente la pena hacerlo! El me había pedido un dibujo de él y Mychael sentados frente a una chimenea estando él con la cabeza inclinada hacia el hombro a Mychael envueltos ambos en una manta y yo acepté el reto! A lo cual en unos...3 días logré terminar el dibujo! Le encantó sin duda y me siento feliz de que un artista tan increíble que admiro tanto le haya gustado algo mío *Sniff Sniff* ( ´；ω；` )

(Quiero aclarar que para colorear he sido un asco, así que quizás suba más dibujos sin color por efectivamente sentirme insegura al pintar!)

6 de Abril

Y como tercer dibujo es en honor para @yamimushroom !! Personita que sin duda es una de las mejores que he conocido. Un día estábamos ella y yo hablando con calma y me menciono que tenía un oc, a lo cual yo, amante de dar regalos a los demás, decidí decirle: "...me podrías pasar tu oc? Te dibujare!" Y eso hizo, a lo cual inmediatamente me puse manos a la obra con él boceto para al día siguiente continuar sin duda para que al terminar, le entregué el dibujo con muchísima emoción y esperanza de que sea de su agrado y sin duda lo fué, lo aprecia con todo su corazón (╥﹏╥)♡

18 de abril

Wow...es Increíble lo mucho que ha cambiado mi estilo con el tiempo, y eso que tan solo fueron meses! Jajaja, espero poder seguir mejorando en el tema del dibujo y quien sabe, llegué a más de lo que me imagino

Como extra me gustaría agradecer de todo corazón al apoyo que le han dado a mi primer post con el dibujo de Cheea, es impactante el inmenso apoyo que le han dado en tan poco tiempo, waaa, los aprecio muchísimooo (T﹏T) ♡ ❤️‍🩹

Apenas pueda y tenga tiempo, subiré ese dibujo de Mychael que les menciono! Cómo siempre digo, no será lo mejor del mundo que podrían ver, pero supongo que algo es algo jejeje

Muchísimas gracias por leer, cuídate y espero tengas un excelente día, tarde y/o noche!! (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ ✨♡

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael #mushroom oasis #mushroom oasis fanart #mushroom oasis mychael #mychael fanart #digital drawing #art #digital illustration #fanart #mushroom oasis game

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yok00k · 1 year ago

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╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

sanrio!oc & boxer!jk headcannon

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

⤷ ⊹₊⋆ series masterlist ⊹₊⋆

>pics from pinterest<

—warning: some mature contents, read at your own risk—

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

ᡣ𐭩 y/n l/n, 19

ʚɞ lives in a tiny/luxurious apartment nearby the lake

ʚɞ works at a bubble tea store. you love being in a minimalistic and cute place. indeed you think you’re just a girl and your world is full of sanrio and cute stuff.

ʚɞ currently studying cosmetology. you dont know what you want to do just yet but you’re trying to figure it out. you love doing your own makeup, nails, and eyelashes. anything that makes you feel that feminine energy you’ll do it. that’s the reason why you’re pursuing something that’s related to your very own interest!

ʚɞ obsessed with hello kitty. you just has to collect at least one every week so you can function properly

ʚɞ has daddy’s issue (just like the author)

ʚɞ friendly to everyone but you have 3 real friends who you know really well. you open up to them about some details of you and jungkook’s relationship. there’s always there to give you advice or just listen to your rants

ʚɞ you’re very affectionate and genuinely loves the people in your life + sensitive: cry yourself to sleep when someone yells at you. how dare they

ʚɞ had multiple sugar daddies prior to entering a relationship with jk

ʚɞ your go-to outfits are mini skirts+black platform boots/mary janes + crop tops

ʚɞ dumb and slow as a turtle. you just never get what’s going on most of the time & that’s why guys get to take advantage of you and your dummy self won’t even realize it.

ʚɞ may look innocent but be the freakiest in the bedroom. 100% certified virgin (just for the first 6 months of her and jk’s relationship) but that doesn’t mean you can’t own multiple toys + toys that jk gifted you.

ʚɞ unintentionally and intentionally tease jk. you just likes seeing all worked up for nothing.. or something

ʚɞ sucker for creampie & cockwarming

ʚɞ listen to kali uchis, lana del rey, mitski, etc.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

ᡣ𐭩 Jeongguk Jeon, 23

ꕤ born from a wealthy family. he rebels against his parents: they wanted him to be the heir of their business, but jungkook said “fuck that imma do my own thing”

ꕤ was an underground boxer at the age of 20, but because of his skills, he became somewhat popular in mainstream boxing.

ꕤ has lots of boxing competition [i think he likes to fight]

ꕤ has anger issues. especially when he sees men taking advantage of you. boxing helps him to let out all the anger and he’s learning how to be better. [ you can fix him ]

ꕤ nonchalant but possessive? he doesn’t like to share

ꕤ lives on his own for some time now, in a huge penthouse. he gets lonely most of the time, he’s used to it though

ꕤ @ the gym 24/7. he basically lives there.

ꕤ rumor has it that he was a fuckboy? there’s no proof though.. yet. there’s been rumors around and they don’t sound nice.

ꕤ smokes + vapes [oc hates it]

ꕤ has a big dog named Bam, he’s such a good dog to you!

ꕤ always horny, he keeps the videos of you playing with yourself for his personal use

ꕤ has lots of fantasy of you, he’s infatuated then later on will be in love

ꕤ listens to partynextdoor, metro boomin, brent faiyaz, etc.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

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tiredsmashbros · 2 months ago

Text

early birthday gift for the annoying ass stupid ass ring light person qwah pUH

warning ; slightly suggestive 💥

@hexsie @knightedmares @neo91502 @its-a-me-mango

so i had a plan to animate this ish for this stupid silly as a joke due to we share the interest of this green penguin youtuber, isaacwhy, in the summer. to then find out in my storyboarding class my new assignment was just animating/storyboarding a short sound clip... so what better opportunity to do it than now and it time for this silly ass 18th birthday :3c

i realized i forgot a few things, made some mini mistakes at the end but thats okay we ball

okay now for a bday message get out if ur not the ring light bitch /hj

from the moment i first met you... i wanted you to DIE TO GET OUT OF MY LIFE TO OBLITERATE INTO PIECES TO LOSE EVERY ROUND OF PRESSURE TO GO TO BED WITH WARM PILLOWS AND STUMB YOUR PINKY YOU GET A DEAD SCREEN TO POP UP AS YOU FALL INTO THE GROUND DECAYING AWAY AND - cOUGH ough sorry about that ahem the demons came out anywho- DIE- ahem...

nova i know i've given you my heartfelt personal message during my birthday time, so i wanted to give one too- even if most of it you may already know or i already said iuhkjfewds

the past... half a yEAR??? good gracious too long /JOKE has been a very silly and stressing ride gOD /lh. you've definitely changed my life and even influenced me as a person for the better. your silly high-pitch tone, the playful bullying, and even the obsession of your hex3 has just been enjoyable to experience and even participate the past few months. even just recently you getting me into your markipler in space fixation was definitely something i wasn't expecting and im still thINKING ABOUT IT HELLO???? IM TRYING TO BRAINSTORM A DAY TO WATCH IT AND AT THIS POINT WE MIGHT AS WELL DO IT ON THE PARTY OR MONDAY NEXT WEEK AT NIGHT YUIHKJFEDWSUGJH.

even with the characters in my brain i've told you about earlier of this year, hexsy is still checkin in as con {ander's oc} still does and she's been so nicey the following months even if not often i see her, but just like u irl reminds me of ur STUPID HETERO FIC ISTFG- it was genuinely so good holy shit. me and my plane trips istfg its always either me watching the new smg4 episode or reading a fanfic last time it was brain's, an this time is you and josie's IOHKJBFEDSH i love all the silly words in silly plot lines with silly characters so exciting and creative gUH. anyways... u'll get ur silly paragraphs today too teehee :3

but seriously you do bring a lot of good joy and happiness with the people around you, even if your sillyness can be a teeny bit scawey to endure, its also intoxicating and a disease it's personally affected how i even act but in the most positive way possible its raised my silly bar, but also genuinely made me so much more confident?? you've helped me learn to be myself and to be afraid to be silly, EVEN if the chance of embarrassment comes by, its not a terrifying if i have done it when i was my shy anxiety angsty teen ihugjrhefds. i adore and appreciate your company even in moments you scare me and bully me into not reading or looking at your stuff LEAVE ME ALONE YOU FREAK!!!! IMPATIENT!!!! /J /SILLY /LH i still hope your doing good at your school and preparing for your college adventures. i'll still be here to support and help you throughout so dont u dare think u're going thru this alone i gotchu- unless i die or smth but we boutta find out /j uigHJFDS

totally normal and not suspicious at all give me rizz tips pls knight is gatekeeping me all he ever talks about is spongebob did u form into a yellow sponge or smth is that the trick OHHH YEAHH GET IT BC TRICK IS HIS OC NAME AND im so funny please laugh and give me tips COUGHS- /HJ

lastly... if you think i don't have a lil silly idea thingy to share on ur bday, ur horribly mistaken. i dont know either to show it oN the day of ur birth or the birthday party, but we're gonna find out iughjvfredws just remind me till then since i know you will :))) its somewhat cool i think please think its cool its ugly yes but i'll improvise maybe trust

okay the moment your reading and watching this im in my night class sooooo may see ur messages or wait for another hr YES WAIT YOU FREAK until im done with class so we can yap jajajaj 💥

anyways have sum gift art bc i know u will cry if u dont get smth 💥

and yuri too LMAO

#happy birthday YOU FREAK QWAH PUH!!!!#tsb #tsb official #tsb animatic #smg4 #smg4 ocs #smg4 animatic #hexsy #mango #neo #trick #isaacwhy #the group chat podcast #animatic #18? i remember when i was 18 /ref

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theitgirlnetwork · 1 year ago

Text

Earn It

Ch. 3 :

Heaven being a hot tennis (sorta) gf before she saw her (sorta) man lose:

Note: Okay, once again, thank you so much for the love you guys have shown this story. I'm really inspired by Challengers right now and think I have a lot of ideas for this story. Once again, this oc is not meant to be perfect, she is just as messy and just as young as the characters in the movie. She is a college student and will act like an (albeit messy) one. I'm very grateful for all of the replies, likes, reblogs and interaction in general. It really inspires me to see what you all think and see that people are enjoying it. Regarding the tag list, I am going to try this again, but for some reason, every time I do it seems to not work for people, so let me know if it works this time. Finally, MDNI, like for real, not playing, stay out of grown folks business, if I find out you'll be blocked. Love you all and hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Sexual content, strong language, slight themes of cheating(idk if it counts yet)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams @butterflyybabe @sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384

“Holy shit.” Tashi murmurs under her breath as she climbs the cobblestone walkway to the address Heaven had given her. This was gonna be their first time hanging outside of the gym or school. Tashi knew they lived in different neighborhoods, but they share a school zone, she hadn’t realized Heaven’s family had money. The girl didn’t seem different from her. They both liked the same games, same music minus the classical that she kept playing that Tashi found herself falling asleep to recently.

She turns and waves to her dad, trying to encourage him to pull off before she rings the doorbell, sighing as he stubbornly remains still, watching her get up to the door from his car window.

The large, wooden door opens as some obnoxious bell rings into the house, the noise spilling outside. The sound of heels clacking gets closer and closer until the door opens revealing a woman with a stern look on her face. Her brown hair is slicked back into a bun and she’s wearing a crisp white button down shirt with pressed jeans and heels. Tashi can’t remember the last time she’d seen her own mother wear heels. She looked so…put together. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Tashi Duncan. I’m Heaven’s friend, we go to school together. She hasn’t been in school the last few days, so I have her make-up work. I called and asked her if it was okay if I dropped it off and she said yes-”

“Heaven is training right now. I can take that, and she’ll be back in school when we get back from our trip.” The woman offers a smile but otherwise quickly takes the binder from Tashi’s hands and goes to retreat into the house only to be stopped by a voice behind her.

“Mom, wait-” Out from behind the woman comes Heaven. Her skin is glistening from sweat and her hair is curling at the nape. She’s dressed in a black leotard with worn, tan ballet shoes on her feet. She smiles brightly as she sees Tashi, pulling her into a hug despite her unkempt state. “Tashi, hey, thank you.”

Tashi is almost hesitant to hug the girl back in front of her no nonsense appearing mother, but opts to return the hug regardless, letting Heaven intertwine their fingers as she pulls back. “No problem.”

Heaven’s brown eyes scan Tashi’s own outfit and her smile drops a little. “Were you about to go play tennis? Mom, Tashi’s the best tennis player ever. She’s gonna be like Serena Williams.”

“Is that so?” Heaven’s mom’s brow raises as she looks down at the girl standing at her door.

Tashi got it. It sounds like a lofty goal. Even at such a young age, Tashi was confident in her abilities. She knows what she can do. But Mrs. Whitlock had never seen her play. If she did, she’d know that Tashi Duncan is tennis. For now, Heaven stating it like it’s a fact is enough to satisfy her. “I just got back from practicing. And yes, ma’am. I’m the best.”

Mrs. Whitlock looks impressed at that, pursing her lips and nodding in approval before nudging her own daughter. “I’d bet she’s the best because she trains. Which is what you’re supposed to be doing.”

Heaven bites her lip, rocking on her feet, causing her shoes to make a clack sound on the floor. “Can Tashi watch?” she grabs her mom’s sleeve and pleads harder at the disapproving look on her face. “Please? She’ll help. She helps me run drills at the gym all of the time. I haven’t gotten to see any friends all week. I’ll keep practicing, mom.” Her fingers tighten around Tashi’s in a way that has her clenching back, glancing at her Dad’s car to see him climbing out, noting that he probably hadn’t expected this to take so long. “Please, mom.”

“I can help, Mrs. Whitlock.” Tashi adds. “I promise, I won’t distract her.”

After some begging, from Heaven and promises to be useful from Tashi, Mrs. Whitlock allowed them 90 minutes. As long as Heaven kept practicing while Tashi was there.

Apparently, Heaven’s dance company was putting on Sleeping Beauty and this was the first year that Heaven has been old enough to play Aurora. Tashi learned that last year Heaven had been snubbed for Cinderella and made a Season Fairy instead. In Heaven’s words, if she ‘earned Cinderella, she should’ve been Cinderella’. But this year, there was no excuse. She was a little taller, she was 13 and she wouldn’t let them take it from her.

“Again.” Tashi says, stepping away from Heaven, folding her arms.

If she’d thought Heaven’s family had money from outside the house, she knows they do now. Here she stood in Heaven’s ‘dance studio’. She concedes that it’s just a room with mirrors, ballet bars and wooden floors, it looked pretty damn official to her. It’s not like her parents had failed to provide. She’s a member of a tennis team, has two coaches, and frequently attends the courts in town. But to have it in her home? She’d give anything.

“Water. Then again.” Heaven huffs, walking over to one of the mirrors and grabbing her water bottle.

The Rose Adage. Arguably the hardest part of Sleeping Beauty the ballet. Heaven showed a video of a professional performance to Tashi and still pointed out mistakes. The dance is all about stamina and balance. As far as Tashi could tell, Heaven had mastered all of it except the last part.

The balance.

She’s hitting every beautiful move, every pose. But the last part. The very last part of the dance where Aurora has to rely completely on her partner to be steady enough to guide her as she’s en pointe in attitude pose. She’s essentially meant to be a figure in a music box. Heaven had done it at least 20 times since Tashi had arrived and started being her stand-in partner.

But her leg. Her damn leg kept quivering in the last few seconds. She doesn’t fall out. She doesn’t lose her position. But her goddamn leg quivers in the turn. Tashi sees it. She sees it.

Neither of them are satisfied.

“Talk to me about something else. I’m getting annoyed.” Heaven says, taking a deep swig of her drink. She hands the bottle to Tashi, leaving the mouthpiece up for the other girl to get a drink too as she walks off to grab her towel.

Swallowing a gulp of water, Tashi shrugs, sitting on the floor and criss-crossing her legs. “Jacob and Tammy broke up again.”

“Really?” Heaven tosses her towel to the corner and goes over the bar closest to Tashi, perching one leg up on it. Holding true to what she promised her mother and continuing to practice. “They just got back together last week. That means Jacob’s gonna ask you to go to the dance with him next week.”

“Shut up.” Tashi scoffs with a smile, watching her friend stretch.

“He will.” Heaven hums. “You gonna say yes?”

Tashi laughs, stretching her own back before laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Why would I do that? I don’t like Jacob, he’s boring.” She turns her head to look at Heaven again. “I figured we were going together.”

“Why would you think that?” Heaven grunts as she switches legs. “You haven’t asked me.”

Tashi rolls her eyes, pushing off of the floor and moving back to the middle of the room. “Break time’s over, let's go.”

“I didn’t take a damn break.” Heaven laughs, nonetheless moving over and getting into position. “You’re not gonna ask me?”

“Straighten your back.”

“It’s straight.” Heaven says, going up onto her single foots, eyes following Tashi as she spins her in place, not even noticing how much time is passing. “Fine. I’ll do it then, come to the dance with me.”

Tashi stops spinning the girl, stepping back once again, this time with a smug smile on her face. “Sure why not. It’ll be fun dancing with a princess.”

Heaven lowers her foot slowly and as the realization hits her, her own smirk forms on her face. She’d done it. And her leg didn’t shake.

“Let’s show your mom, maybe she’ll let me come hang out more when she sees that I’m basically teaching you ballet.” Tashi jokes, only to be pushed by Heaven.

“Shut up and spin me again.”

“Call me when you make it back, okay?” Heaven smiles, removing her arms from Tashi’s neck and stepping back. “Love you.”

“You call me when you get the lead.” the girl smiles back, pulling Heaven in for a brief peck before walking over to get back into Patrick’s car. “And I know.”

Art doesn't manage to look away in time for that one, but quickly turns his head away as Patrick pulls the girl in, teeth grinding as he hears their lips separate.

“I’ll visit after the first leg of my tour.” His friend mumbles behind him. Art can feel his lip curling as he tries to work a neutral expression onto his face. As he looks at the car he can see Tashi looking back at him with a pensive stare and immediately turns his back to say his own goodbye.

He tries to wait until Patrick is standing at the window of the passenger seat, speaking to Tashi to pull Heaven a little further away. “Hey, are we gonna talk about before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Heaven.” Art says, a pleading in his voice that drags her gaze back to him.

The girl shifts on her feet, glancing over his shoulder at the car and back at him. “Okay, we kissed. So what?”

“So what? Is that how you feel about it? So what?” Art asks, the hurt in his voice is clear as he looks down at the girl, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just saying we had a moment.”

“Fuck.” Heaven breathes, shaking her head. “Yeah. Okay. Are you gonna tell them?”

He straightens at that. He wants to say yes. He wants to be selfish, and ruin whatever the fuck is going on between the three of them. He doesn’t even know what he’d do once he did, he just knows he wants whatever this is, with them, to stop.

But how can he? Looking at her face, pleading up at him. Watching her all morning, curling into Tashi and Patrick like it would undo what happened the night before. Like it would change the looks they’ve been sharing over their shoulders all morning. “You asked me not to.” he says softly.

Heaven nods quietly at that. “Thank you.” And with that she turns, arms wrapped around herself as she goes to climb the steps to get to her building door. Art watches her back. When he gets in the car he’ll make something up. He’ll say he just wanted to make sure she got inside safe. He definitely wasn’t waiting, hoping, praying she’d look back. Give him one more look. Something.

She doesn’t.

But a few days later while he’s on the court practicing with one of the guys from the team, thinking for the twentieth time that Patrick may have been a little right wasting time considering he was absolutely destroying the kid with about half of his effort, he gets a text from an unknown number.

12:41 p.m. : I got the lead.

He can’t help the smile that starts forming when he sees it on his screen.

“Donaldson, are you up for another set or what?”

Heaven huffs in irritation as her leg bounces on the bleachers. Shifting in her seat again her cheek dimples with a frown as she watches Patrick’s racket go flying. “Fucking ridiculous.” she sighs, crossing her legs.

She’d been in school for a couple of weeks now and Patrick had a match not too far from her. She’d decided to be a good..whatever she is to him and come out and show some support. Tashi is preparing for her own match coming up, and to be honest, his performance on this leg hadn’t been impressive enough to encourage her to want to come see.

Heaven was trying to be supportive. Despite his broke boy act, he had sent her flowers to her dorm the week of her auditions. So had Art, something that the girls in the dorm had been scandalized by when they realized the cards were not addressed by the same person. Tashi had called her to remind her of her schedule that week, meditated with her over the phone. She wanted to give the same support to them.

When the match ends she’s already reaching for her phone and sure enough, its vibrating in her purse. “I know.”

“Did you see that shit?”

“I know. I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing. Seriously.” Heaven stands from her seat, scooting passed the small crowds of peeople and making her way down the bleachers.

“Fucking around. He gets lazy-”

“In the third, yeah. He was better than this guy.” She squints to see him storming his way into the building to go the locker room and starts following him. “He’s pissed.”

“He should be embarrassed.” There’s the sound of something snapping closed on the other end and Heaven knows Tashi slams her laptop. “He was off screen for me, how are you seeing him?”

“I drove out here, it’s pretty close.” She says, balancing her phone on her shoulder with her cheek as she pushes the door to the building open and starts looking around for the men’s locker rooms. “Figured he could use the support.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a moment and Heaven pauses in her steps, waiting for Tashi to say something. “Hm.”

“What?” Heaven sighs, leaning against the hallway, waving away an employee politely that seemed alarmed that she was on her way into the men’s locker room. “Babe, what?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry you didn’t get to see a win. He wasted our time. You could be rehearsing.”

“S’fine, he just needs to get his shit together before-”

“I’ve gotta go.” Tashi cuts in. “I’m gonna hit the ball with Art. Hang out a little, we’ve been busy. Tell Patrick to call me later.”

Tashi hangs up before Heaven can say anything else. Breathing out in irritation, she pushes off of the wall and enters the locker room, putting a hand over her eyes and laughing at the men either scrambling to cover up or pausing to check her out.

The guy Patrick just played against wraps a towel around himself, making his way over to her with a smile. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Keeping her hand over her eyes she giggles, making her voice sickly sweet. “No, I’m a really big tennis fan, and I wanted to see if I could get that really hot guy Patrick Zweig’s number.”

“What?” He asks.

One of Patrick's tourmates peaks his head out from behind a locker and rolls his eyes. “Zweig, your girlfriend’s here.”

Heaven can’t help but think to herself that as Patrick rounds the corner he doesn’t know exactly who he’s talking about. It makes her wonder, is that what she is? She, Tashi and Patrick have been hooking up since after his match with Art and it’s been fun. She likes him. He’s funny, and snarky, talking to him has been like…being with a male Tashi.

But does she consider herself his girlfriend? Does he? She knows he dumped the girl he’d been seeing when he’d met them, but does he still hook up with girls while he’s on tour. And even then, is she a stop on his tour?

Suddenly, she’s feeling a little like what she was just pretending to be. A groupie.

“Oh fuck yeah, hey.” He grins when he sees her. He’s changed out of his clothes from before into a ‘fuck you’ t-shirtand sweats. He immediately throws his arm over her shoulders, knocking her hand from in front of her eyes and replacing it with his own. “What do you think this is? A peep show? Huh? I missed you.”

Heaven laughs as she lets him guide her out of the humid room out into the hallway again, once they’re there, pulling his hand away and hugging him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles, pressing his lips to hers. Heaven pushes up onto her toes to meet him, giving him a few more pecks before pulling back. “You came up here by yourself?”

Translation: where’s Tashi. “Yeah…but, um, she wants you to call her later.”

“She was watching?” He asks, placing his arm back around Heaven and walking them back outside toward concessions. “Okay, so you both saw, that was bullshit, right?”

Yeah, we saw some bullshit. Heaven squints, trying to read the menu at the stand despite the sun beating down, trying not to look Patrick in the face. “Did you get tired or something?”

“No, but the calls were fucking stupid, they were robbing me.”

“Hm.” Heaven raises one shoulder and drops it, turning back to the man at the stand. “Small vanilla ice cream please.

Patrick laughs humorously, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Large.” Turning back to Heaven he shakes his head in disbelief. “You guys are just alike, you know? What does ‘hm’ mean?”

“I just think you could’ve beat him, he was fuckin’ scared of you the first half of the match.”

“I should’ve won.”

“I agree.” Heaven huffs, crossing her arms.

Patrick, raises his eyebrows and throws his arms out a little, “Okay, so…”

“I just think you didn’t because you didn’t care to. It got hard so you made the decision to give up.”

The older man in the stand clears his throat, holding out the cup of ice cream out with one spoon, eyeing the arguing pair. “Did you all need another one?”

“No.” Patrick says, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to leave. “She can have the whole damn thing.”

Heaven’s eyes widen as she watches him walking away toward the building. She grabs the ice cream from the man walking over to a bench just outside of the courts.

He’s walking slowly. He doesn’t wanna really leave. He’s just fucking like her.

“I’m not fucking gonna chase you, Patrick.” Heaven chuckles, scooping some of the ice cream into her mouth. She watches from her seat as he stops. “And you’re proving my point. But I drove all the way here to see you. Are you gonna leave me on this bench?” When he doesn’t immediately turn, Heaven nods to herself, taking another bite. “M’not getting up, Patrick.”

She watches as his shoulders rise and fall with his deep breath and he turns to face her again, marching back over and sitting roughly on the bench, jostling her a little but she keeps her face neutral. “I should have won.”

“I still agree.” Heaven says, scooping some of the treat onto the spoon and holding it to his mouth, knowing he was cooling off when he accepts it. “So why didn’t you?”

The brown haired man just sighs, dropping her head back against the bench with a thunk, staring up at the sky. “I dunno.”

“He was pissed at me.”

Art nods his head along as he steps out of the shower, wiping the condensation gathered on his phone on the towel before wrapping it around his waist and bringing the phone back to his ear. He knocks his hand on his suitemate’s door to let him know he’s out of the bathroom before he makes his way to his own room, closing the door. “He didn’t leave you out there, right?”

“No, he just did that thing he does, you know, storms off. But he calmed down and we had some fun. Could’ve done without the fight though.”

Art wets his lip as he places the phone on speaker on his desk, letting Heaven’s voice fill his room. He never asked her what made her get his number from Tashi’s phone. He figured he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They’d been texting every day since he’d gotten it, talking on the phone every other day. They’ve talked about everything.

Where they’re both from, their families, interests outside of tennis and dance. He learned her favorite colors are baby blue and bright orange. That she used to want to cheerlead too but her mother made her choose ballet because she preferred it and said she couldn’t do both at the same time. That her dad left when she was two but she has a great relationship with her stepfather.

She learned that while Art loved tennis, he’d tried to quit his boarding school three different times when he first got there, but each time he’d won a match and the sport pulled him back in. That he, despite complaining, loves seeing his grandma because she was the one who really raised him because his parents were busy. That he always wanted a younger sibling but never got one, so when he was still at the school, he and Patrick would help teach the younger students tennis when they weren’t dicking around.

What she doesn’t know is that he could do without talking to her about dating his best friend.

“I’d bet.”

Heaven laughs ruefully on the other side of the phone, and the sound has him melting immediately. Sits at his desk, letting himself air dry as he listens to her giggles ring out. “I’m being shitty. How’s school, Arthur?”

And that sends a shiver down his spine. He clears his throat, sitting up as he stares at the phone as if she was in its place. “It’s good, you know, I’ve been staying busy. Between classes and tennis. The guys here are kinda shitty, beating them doesn’t really mean shit.”

“Well, not everyone can be Art Donaldson. You must be hanging out with Tashi too much, you’re sounding cocky over there.”

“Nah, it’s just that bad,” he says. Determined to steer the conversation away from Tashi, Art thinks hard. “What ballet are you doing? I gotta make sure I know what I’m watching when I come watch you.”

“You’re supposed to watch everyone so you can understand the story.” she says. He can hear the sound of creaking letting him know that she’s climbing into her bed. Art follows suit, pulling on his boxers and pushing up into his own twin sized bed.

“Heaven, if you’re there, I’m gonna be watching you.” he breathes, smiling to no one but himself.

There’s a soft, ‘Okay’ on the other side of the line, and then nothing. Just the soft sound of her breathing. When they have moments like these Art feels the sting of knowing that he lost to Patrick and in a way Tashi, that day in a different way. I should’ve won. I don’t know why I didn’t win. All I’ve done since then is win. “So, um, we’re doing Romeo and Juliet. Off the record I think the choice is corny, but as a principal dancer, Juliet, I love it and can’t wait to do it.”

“Lucky Romeo.” he jokes, earning him another breathy laugh. He can’t help it. He tries not to say anything and clenches his jaw tightly, kicking himself for opening his mouth again. “I’m sorry, did you tell them that you got the lead?”

“Art-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…you drove out there for his match. I couldn’t even go. Did he ask you how your auditions went? Did she?”

“She told me I should rehearse, that’s how we talk to each other.” she says.

“And him? Did he ask?”

“I’m not talking about this with you, that’s not why I called, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t vent to you about him. Or her. I know how you feel about her.” Heaven sighs.

“Do you know how I feel about you?” He asks. Silence. “Heaven, come on-”

“What would you do differently?”

“Wh-” At first he doesn’t know what she’s asking. And once he realizes it, he knows she’s made it vague on purpose. Giving him an out. Giving herself an out. Asking too upfront would make it too real. But he wants it to be real. And he’s not gonna miss this opportunity. “I’d have been there the day you auditioned. You have a process and I know that, so I’d have called you before. Wish you luck. Tell you that you were beautiful. That I knew you’d get whatever part you wanted. And then I would have been there when you got out. I would’ve given you flowers. I’d tell you I’m proud of you. And I’d take you to get dinner.”

“Okay. Where?”

“We’d get your cheat food. And I couldn’t have it because I’m starting my season and I know you wouldn’t let me, but we’d get seafood and ice cream, and take it back to your room because you were probably so tired.” Art pauses then, waiting to see if she wants him to stop. He would stop, if she wanted him to stop, he would stop. This could be innocent. This could be advice from a friend who thinks she deserves better. But, that’s not what he wants. That’s all he thinks he has to offer her. “Heaven?”

“I’m…still here.”

“And…” Art thinks back ironically to all of the times Patrick has told him to take what he wants. To be forward and put himself first. “We’d take a shower together. I’d kiss you and massage you while I got you clean. Because, you deserve to relax, and you worked hard. And you were probably so sore, baby.” He hears Heaven’s breath hitch and shifts on his bed, continuing tentatively. “I’d touch you so good, Hev. I’d massage your breasts and kiss your neck. I’d mark your perfect skin. I…I’d want people to see it. To know who made you feel like that. To know who took care of you. I would put my fingers between your legs and make you feel so good. I’d hold you up so you don’t have to do anything. And I’d watch your face while you come for me.”

Art can feel his own labored breathing. He tries to tune the sound of himself out, only wanting to hear the whimpers that have started to come from his phone. He swallows back the last ounce of guilt he has as his hand slides down into his shorts, grabbing himself and biting back a moan as he thinks about his hands on Heaven, hearing her in his ear, feeling her under him. On top of him. Any way she wanted.

“Fuck.” she gasps.

Art bites his lip briefly, willing away the jolt in his lower abdomen that comes from her sound, muscles flexing as he seizes upward slightly. He slows his hand on himself to a stop, pulling his hand out. Not until I hear it. Not until I get her there. “I’d carry you to your bed and lay you down. And I’d start at your feet. I’d kiss my way up your beautiful legs. People dream about your legs, Heaven, I dream about them. When you dance, when you walk, the way they look…fuck-” he groans, digging the hand that hadn’t grabbed the phone into his hair. “I’d push them apart and put them on my shoulders, and I’d taste you. I know you taste amazing, baby. I’d do anything to taste your cum.”

“Art-” she whines, and he lets his eyes slip closed. Behind his eyelids he can see her. In the bed, touching herself to him. Biting her pillow and crying out his name. Arching her back because it feels so good.

“Tell me it feels good, Heaven, please.”

“I…it feels good, Art.”

He’s close. He can tell, with every sound she gives him, he gets closer, barely holding it together. He needs more. Just a little more. “Again.” he demands softly.

“You feel so good, Art.” she cries before dissolving into gasps and whimpers of his name.

He almost feels like he blacks out. Art doesn’t think he’s ever come so hard in his entire life. He literally rolls over onto his side to try to catch his breath and quiet his moans. He doesn’t think he could live it down if his suitemates came knocking at his door and he had to explain that he was trying to get his friends’ girlfriend off and accidentally worked himself up to the thought of taking her on a date and eating her out.

Then there’s quiet again. The only noise is their shared rapid breathing crackling through the phone. They stay like that for a few minutes and Art thinks about how badly he wishes that it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to tell her he wanted to drive the hours to UCLA, do exactly what he said on the phone and then hold her while they fall asleep. But, he knows better. And she speaks.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.” Art breathes, sitting up grabbing tissues from his desk and starting to clean himself up. “I know.”

He’s not gonna be the one to hang up. He wants more. He wants her voice. He wants her breaths. He wants to falling asleep on the phone. If she’s ready for the call to end, she’s gonna have to end it.

But she’s still here.

“Art, I did tell them and…I don’t really know why but…I told you first.”

Click.

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