#doing meaningless things that you have to but with someone you love that it’s not so bad
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It really frees up so much mental real estate when you start thinking of sex as just: a thing people sometimes do. Some people are super into it! Some aren't! It's for fun! It's for intimacy! It's the deepest connection some people will ever feel and totally meaningless to others! It's hot! It's boring! It helps some people sleep! It exists as an exciting construct solely in fantasy for others! What it isn't is some complicated moral ground that needs to be fought against at every turn. It's just A Thing. Which means people who have a lot of it, or none of it, or whatever in between are all worth the same. Which means stories that have a lot of it, or none of it, or whatever in between are worth the same, too. Smut isn't less valuable than "clean" stories. People who have a high "body count" aren't less valuable than those who have never had sex at all. It's just A Thing. Making peace with sex as just A Thing that is natural to consentingly have or not have, want or not want, really is a great adjustment to your brainspace.
#i get so frustrated when people think a fic or a book or any kind of story is automatically Lesser because it's smutty#or on the flip side when people think a story is meaningless if no one's boinking#it's taste man! it's a matter of taste! there's no objective graph for this shit#and also: it makes life so much less weird if you stop trying to assign value to sex#do you assign value to people based on what they do or don't like to eat?#(i'm aware some people do and i think those people are weird)#it's all the same thing#whatever dude! live and let live! anybody getting hurt? no? excellent!#'it makes me personally feel icky' i have excellent news for you about your ability to Look At Anything Else#it's ultimately only your business if it's happening to you#otherwise? whatever! your parents? your siblings? your best friend? your ex? your current partner's history? your favorite actor?#Not Your Business; Not Your Problem!#and that goes double for fiction because great news: fiction is by definition Not Real#so whatever's going on between those two characters who were made up in someone's head and extrapolated on in someone else's?#not dire!#love that for them and love that for you#this feels like a post that will either get 7 notes and then die#or one that will explode and lead to increasingly bizarre takes in the tags#but eh whatever i'm feeling some type of way today
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hii nini!! could i request vernon + soft prompt 24?
love your writing smm hope ur doing well!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
hi baby!! aw, thank you so much, hope you're doing well too! thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!
fluff prompt: 'you have a beautiful soul.'
you're not a stranger to the compliments. people comment on your physical appearance more often than not and while you obviously find it flattering and nice, you cannot help to find these words shallow and meaningless. when you put your effort into the work with your whole heart and then don't hear a word about your skills but instead get 'and you are so pretty!' is... discouraging. you wish someone mentioned something, anything else - about your work ethic, how hard working you are, how sincere you're in your approach to all of the animals in the shelter-
'your pretty face is really doing wonders to this shelter, by the way. i think a lot of people stop by just to look at you.' jaehyun, main owner, says. he's smiling like he just told the best joke ever.
you know that he means well, but your smile is still forced and you only nod at him, not offering anything else as he bids you and vernon goodbye. with your head down and full focus on a new puppy, you miss vernon's worried gaze and how he looks thoughtful, staring at the way you gingerly wash puppy's ears.
'he didn't mean to downplay your work here,' he eventually says, surprising you. vernon is not very talkative and mostly you two work in relative silence. 'jaehyun, i mean. he didn't mean it like you think.'
'no, i know.' you smile and it's forced again. you quickly glance up, meeting his gaze before instantly looking back down. 'i get it.'
vernon stares at you for some more moments before blurting out: 'i think you have a beautiful soul.' you face must show how shocked you are, because he blushes a little and shrugs like what he said haven't just pulled the ground from your feet. 'i- sorry. it's not like you were interested in my opinion.'
your heart is at your throat as you stare up at him, mouth agape. 'you- really?'
vernon looks up at you, slightly confused. 'yes? i mean yeah, yes.' and then after some hesitation he asks: 'you don't think so?'
you don't know what to think. you, in fact, are few seconds away from bursting into tears and that is embarrassing. 'thank you,' you manage to whimper before tears come falling. 'it means a lot.'
vernon's expression softens and he silently hands you pack of tissues, looking at you as if you're the most fragile thing that should be treated with all the delicacy. you sniff and he pretends to be engrossed at his work, carefully taking puppy from your lap. 'take your time,' he says gently, smiling at you and pointing towards the toilets. 'it's all okay.'
vernon is not judging you for this stupid outburst and nor does he find it embarrassing. if anything, he wants to reassure you even more, tell you how wonderful he thinks you are, but one step at a time, he guesses. one step at a time.
a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini
#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#seventeen reaction#seventeen x reader#seventeen vernon imagine#seventeen vernon#seventeen hansol#vernon fanfic#vernon imagine#vernon chwe#svt x reader#svt imagine#svt vernon#svt hansol#svt hansol imagine#svt vernon imagine#seventeen prompt
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you make reo fold laundry with you for the first time and this is the moment he decides he’s going to marry you bc who else will make him feel this way while doing chores. who else will make his heart burst as he watches them concentrated on folding his socks and then tossing them over to him
#every time i fall for that one kid that gives off rich and privileged and spoiled vibes in every fandom#like sakusa and gojo and reo and so on#i’m like no i need to have a lil moment with them#where ur like#‘ur going to do this chore w me idc how big of news u are. in here we fold laundry TOGETHER’#and he’s like :O#fold laundry ???#i gotta fold laundry ???????#and then u sit down#and fold some fucking laundry and he realizes this is what life is about#doing meaningless things that you have to but with someone you love that it’s not so bad#he wants to file taxes with you and buy new curtains and set up desk you been meaning to put together with you#all these annoying tasks that are so meaningful when ur there bc he gets to watch u sit there concentrated or look at him and stick ur#tongue out or glare at him and scold him to do his part#and yeah#yeah i love the rich ass spoiled kid who lets you unspoil him a bit all in the name of love
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I crave validation so strongly. I wish I could help everyone in the world and yet I am unable to help myself.
#this website is constantly telling me that trying to help myself with mental health is some sort of bougie indulgance and insulting to gaza#and it's a quick jump from there to thinking the same about trying to access transition#and from there it's my life is meaningless and my suicide would be celebrated if i put the right post on twitter before#tw suicide#i feel like the obvious thing to do is quit tumblr and stop encountering these messages- but i have nowhere else i feel#i can talk about the ugliest parts of myself#and recently i put an artwork on instagram that i worked on for 15 months and it got 7 likes and i'm fucking destroyed by that#i genuinely can't tell you how upset#but i know that's not healthy- i should be able to like and feel proud of my work no matter how many people press a thing#or see it in the first place- we all know its algorithm that does it#i never want to become someone who moans about algorithms and guilts for likes and yet here we are#leaving instagram would seem the obvious solution but i need that validation so badly#i don't even want to make art my job ever! i'll be doing it no matter what i just want people to like it and like me#to think i am someone worthwhile#i don't understand why i'm like this i have no good reasons i have never lacked for love in my life#and yet i can't feel it#i hate myself
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[eyes narrow]
#i have a..... thing.... about fanworks being referred to as 'content'#which i've talked about here before but not extensively#i worry that calling fanworks 'content' comes at the cost of appreciating those works for what they actually are#(i.e. labours of love - the passionate creations of individuals made for the purpose of expressing love for an idea)#instead the term 'content' suggests a certain flattening of that experience - ignorance of the effort and dedication that they require#and a pushing aside of the joy that fanworks contain - in favour of a faceless assembly line of dopamine for a distant audience#it's why i try to never refer to fanworks as 'content' - or to the people who make them as 'content creators'#i feel that it's somewhat disrespectful#obviously that is a personal opinion and you are by no means obligated to agree or to do the same#but..... hmm.#as someone who writes fanfiction on the internet#and who pours quite a significant amount of time and energy and emotion and effort and sometimes money into it#i would like to think that the things that i have made are more than just the reconstituted pulp that 'content' suggests#i would like to think that the things i make are more than the sum of their parts - that they are more than just text on a screen to you#that the joy and life and passion that i give in them - the excitement and the hurt and the rawness - come across in some way#that they are still there and can be recognised for what they are - love#this is a mostly meaningless spiel that you are welcome to ignore#but that being said i would encourage you to think more carefully and critically about how you approach the word 'content'#i think it is more telling than you realise#love you all and stay safe out there 💕💕#ginger rambles
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.
#tag talk#vent#I don't wanna do the whole “I'm so good at psychology cause I've fixed myself. I should go into counseling” thing that overly empathetic#empathetic people do. but like. nothing like deconstructing a tense social conflict to make you feel good#the smol autistic minecraft enby who adopted me had a moment and I helped break down the situation and resolve shit with them. it was cool#but also I immediately went out to the living room and napped for three hours. thinning that hard was exhausting.#do you ever do the depression nap thing? when I'm doing well I never sleep during the day. but when I'm sad I take naps a lot#because I don't want to be awake and I sleep poorly at I night and am just generally lethargic so I nap on the floor or couch a lot#ugh knowing the stress will go away doesn't help the fact that it's super awful right now.#it's times like this that I wish I'd really committed to it in Feb. like. in two weeks I'll be better and joy de vivre and all that.#but right now? ugh. big fuckin ugh#the minecraft emotional labor thing is just a natural responsibility of being a 25 year old playing online video games with 15 year olds.#if I see a situation blowing up I can't hear sit by and watch someone destroy their friendships on the server. I have to help#but also bro I am struggling to help myself. maybe I say I'm packing up my pc early so that I have a good excuse to stay off the server#I literally did the thing again where I make new friends. make everyone love me. and then get burnt out at the speed of light and disappear#making friends is so easy. leaving friends is so easy. nothing is forever and we all die someday. blah blah blah you know it already#meaningless meaningless. all is meaningless. maybe king Solomon was just fuckin depressed when he wrote that. sure sounds like it to me.#I just can't do anything when I'm like this. we're subsistence living now bois.#I wonder if part of my neurological damage is from the lead I used to eat in high school.#the windex shots can't have been good for me. but I don't think that stays in your body the same way#though it did fuck up my urinary tract for a few months. that was wild.#anyway. I wonder how much of my chronic periodic funk is just effects from bad choices and how much is normal natural inevitable.#everything is an ocean. nothing is a lake. the waves are always thirty feet high and the troughs scrape you on the bottom of the reef#nothing is midline except when you're rushing through to one extreme or another.#you're either overstimulated or absent from your body entirely#both of which cause wild and oft unbearable dissociation.#everything gets better and everything gets worse. I'm only like this when I'm stressed. but that's my secret cap (avengers reference)#anyway. I'll survive. I'll make it. I'll live because I need to become even more gay to make my family mad.#I need to keep living so my dad realizes just how much he's lost touch.#so my mom cries about how she should have done something differently so I wouldn't grow up gay. because that makes so much sense right?
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And if I told you I finally came up with a fucking framing device for my Twinkfred von Karma origin story series thing
#it's really crazy how things can influence you without you ever realizing like. i was really into Kung Fu Panda after it first came out#like REALLY into Kung Fu Panda#2008??? damn i would have been like 11/12#anyway i read this fic called Memoirs of a Master written by someone obviously a lot older and smarter than me and i just loved it#it was about Tigress and Po discovering Shifu's diaries (he was on a trip i think)#and so that was the framing device like it was Tigress and Po kinda guiltily reading this diary and learning about Tai Lung and all that#and i read a LOT of Kung Fu Panda fic so it wasnt like this one was particularly special to me *at the time*#(again i was like 12 i just liked anything that made my brain go brrrr. i read a lot of fic about rhe cast of KFP getting magically#transported into the KFP universe like i wasnt a literature connoisseur by any means)#but over the years i just never stopped thinking about Memoirs of a Master#and this isnt even the same framing device it's just similar but i cant even describe to you how much of this fic simply *is*#Memoirs of a Master#like obviously it's not. you could read that and then read this once i finish and notice maybe loke 3 superficial similarities#but at the same this fic would simply not exist without it#not to quote kamala harris of all people but you really do exist in the context of all that came before you#anyway.#the warped maniacal mind of wizard glick at work#oh yes also idk other ppl's hesdcanons for the other von karma daughter but i went with Verena because#1) i thought it was pretty#2) it means 'truth' or 'verity'#3) it doesnt make sense with the surname— 'truth from karma' is meaningless and i have her as kind of distant from the family#4) it showed up on random list of 'german names that were popular in the 80s' i found. didnt bother to do the math or even pick an age#for her but it really doesnt matter#okay. i think that's all.
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what if a character had a nightmare and it abruptly got like. really bad
#me tag🍭#im having so many fuckin thoughts rn about my ocs#sadly i cant share them with anyone because it is kind of just. meaningless angst.#I Mean Its NOT but nobodys gonna know the deeper implications. because i dont know it either.#it would become really mean foreshadowing if [X] thing happens#i really like dreams and the idea of a dream sequence in a story but i dont think ive ever seen one be used. realistically#like how a dream Actually Is. nobody ever gets funky with it :(#closest ive ever seen someone do a dream sequence right was actually a gacha life mini movie i saw YEARSSS ago#Idk. Its not relevant. Im just really good at remembering my dreams and being lucid in them and i just really love dreams#like. you mean i get to be in a consequence free environment where i can do literally anything i can imagine? every night? for free?#SORRY I GOT SIDETRACKED.#My ocs. Yes. Good.#I like them.
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You said you were gonna grow up (then you were gonna come find me) ⭐︎ S.H.
⭐︎ Warnings: slight angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood best friends to lovers, allusions to cheating (but not really), mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited love, hurt/comfort
⭐︎ Summary: You and Steve used to be inseparable, best friends since childhood, you shared something special, something rare. You promised each other forever but... promises are never to keep... right?
⭐︎ Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
⭐︎ Word count: 10k
⭐︎ Author's note: To my Steve girlies who have read (and still mourn) I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss -- in the middle of writing this little oneshot, I noticed that Steve and reader reminded me of someone, and then I realized that it's basically Steve and Cheer in a different universe (if Steve hadn't fucked up as badly as he did). This is... what they should have been.
Also shoutout to @hellfire--cult for inspiring me to finish this oneshot (finally) and @ghost-proofbaby thank you for picking a title for me, and for your sweet words about this little piece, you're both the bestest
⭐︎ my library
divider by @saradika (I screamed when I saw the folklore dividers)
♡
The smell of weed and smoke lingers in the air, music blares through the house and bounces off the walls, laughter and giggles come from every corner, conversations he couldn’t care less about yet listens in on because what else is there to do at a party?
Steve once found himself at home in such gatherings, now he feels nothing but bored as he watches the people instead of interacting with them like he once used to do.
He used to be on the dancefloor, at the keg stand, pressing some girl against the wall and kissing her neck before taking her upstairs into one of the empty bedrooms – but those days are long over and they are not to be missed, not in the slightest.
Now he is sitting out in the backyard of some stranger’s house, sipping on a lukewarm soda and waiting for Robin to get sick of this party so he can take her home before going to his empty house and crashing out on his new bed. Seeing as she’s jumping around on the dancefloor with Vickie, it doesn’t seem like she'll want to leave anytime soon.
A sigh falls from his lips and he slumps his shoulders in boredom.
He could be socializing, talking to girls, flirting with them, with the ones who keep waving at him and sending him suggestive, overly sweet looks – he isn’t interested. The past few months were wasted ones, disastrous dates, one or two meaningless hookups, girls who weren’t interested in him but only in sex – that was his reality and he didn’t want that anymore, he doesn’t want that anymore, he wants something real, he wants to feel something, he wants someone to want him for more than just that one thing, he wants a connection, a bond, he wants… you.
Steve’s lips part, his eyes lighten up, glowing just like the stars in the night sky, he sits up straighter and cranes his neck to see you better, his heart skipping in a way it hasn’t in a long time, he forgot what it feels like… but of course you are the one to remind him of the way his heart can skip and flutter when he feels something, you have always been the one, the only one.
Not even Nancy could make him feel half of the things you could make him feel.
But he blew his chances with you – the only chances that ever mattered.
He hears your laughter, your beautiful giggles that he missed every day since you left, even from all the way here, he can hear the voice that accompanied him throughout most of his life… until it didn’t.
You were his best friend, the only friend that mattered until he found Robin. You were with him from the moment your mothers introduced you both to each other, joined at the hip, you went through it all together, different hobbies, different friend groups, first crushes and rough school days, arguments with so called friends, first parties, first drunken nights, you went through so much and you did it all together, you experienced everything together.
Steve would sneak into your room, late at night, he would use the vines on the wall as a ladder, no matter how many times you scolded him, he still climbed up because he wanted to see you so desperately, even when he spent the whole day with you, it just wasn’t enough, you’d spent the nights whispering and talking about the newest gossips, sometimes he would paint your nails or braid your hair, sometimes you would just lie next to each other and listen to some new album and sometimes you would cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, it was a regular thing, it was something constant.
But then something changed, you both got curious, you both started acting upon feelings that have been there for a long time already, feelings that were no longer innocent and childish turned into something more.
You were each other’s first kiss, it was nothing more than a peck at first… and then it was a second and a third before you kissed for real. And then, it was just another regular thing, you started cuddling and kissing every night, smiling and giggling through it all, holding hands and pulling each other closer and closer.
Those innocent kisses turned into makeout sessions and those turned into your first time.
It was his first time and yours, you shared it with each other, like you shared everything else together.
It was filled with nervous giggles, blushing cheeks and shaky touches, you were both scared to do something wrong but you assured one another and you both did your best, he took care of you and you of him. It was slow, it was soft, it was perfect. A night he will never forget.
Nothing ever came close to this moment, nothing came ever close to how you made him feel.
Steve should have asked you out after that night, he should’ve, but he didn’t, he chickened out, he got scared and he left the next morning without saying goodbye. That was his biggest mistake.
To this day, he doesn’t know how you felt about it all, you never spoke of this night again, you never mentioned it again, you both acted like nothing happened, you continued your friendship like you didn’t ruin it.
He kept coming over, everything stayed the same… but it didn’t.
You started slipping away from him and he was too busy to notice, he became captain of the basketball team, girls started noticing him, he started going on dates even though you were all he could think about, it felt wrong to hold their hands, to kiss them, to touch them, he felt as though he was betraying you but his new friend Tommy encouraged him, spoke lies into his ear about how you went on dates on the nights you canceled on him.
He was hurt, he was angry, and it only was a matter of time before he invited a girl who wasn’t you into his sheets.
He hated how he felt afterwards, but he didn’t stop, he kept going and before he could even blink, he was the most popular boy in school, he was King Steve, the guy who could have anyone but still only had eyes for one.
Though your shared nights became less frequent, you still spent time with him, even when you weren’t fond of Tommy and Carol, his big parties or the way he treated girls, you were still there and it bothered him that he couldn’t have you.
It was clear that you didn’t feel the same, despite the many signs that he had missed at that time. He was your best friend, just your best friend, just Steve. He could’ve made a move, he could've asked you out on a date, he could’ve finally confronted you about your night together and how you felt about it, how you felt about him, but he was scared and it was ironic really, because he was good with girls, very charming and cocky, smug and arrogant but not with you, no, not with you. You made him nervous, you made his chest feel weird, his stomach too, you made his heart race and flutter, you made his skin feel hot and his mind all crazy.
You got him bad.
You made him fall in love.
But he was a coward when it came to his feelings for you, he really was, he didn’t even want to admit them to himself, so he watched you slip through his fingers instead of taking action and making you his. His feelings got stronger despite the distance that slowly grew between you.
You were still there, physically, but your mind was somewhere else and you seemed so far away.
He left notes in your locker, just like he did when he was a kid.
And you did the same to him.
You waved at each other from afar and shared smiles, you still drove around town and sang along to your favorite songs after an occasional trip to that one diner out of town, you sometimes slept over and left your sweet scent on his pillows, driving him crazy with it. You were still each other’s best friends.
But then Nancy stepped into his life and that was it, at that point, it was already crumbling, your friendship was hanging by a thread and it earned its final blow when you moved away for college.
Occasional calls and letters were all that existed between you at that point, it drove him crazy, it made him sad. He suffered heartbreak when you were gone and you weren’t there to mend it, you weren’t there to hold him, to wipe his tears and tell him that he would be alright – how could you? You were the reason for that heartbreak and Nancy was the one who gave him the final push to open his eyes to the feelings he kept pushing away and feeling so scared of.
When he realized what a mistake he had made, it was far too late to fix it and he never stopped regretting the actions he took and didn’t take.
But now you are here, you are back.
He hasn’t heard your voice in so long, he hasn’t seen your beauty in forever, he missed your presence so dearly.
One year, one whole year without you.
Are you here to stay for the summer or are you back for good? He hopes it’s the latter, this town felt anything but home without you here.
Steve stares at you, he stares and stares without shame. His lips are curled into a soft smile, his cheeks already blushing as he takes you in.
You are so gorgeous.
A confident smile is lingering on your lips, your makeup is a little bolder than it used to be, back then, but it suits you, your skirt is short, your top is tight, your cleavage is showing and your skin is glowing, your hair is much longer than he remembers it to be, a few highlights added to your pretty hair color and styled into waves.
You have always been a sight for sore eyes, he was aware of your beauty from a young age, he called you his princess, his sweet, cute and beautiful princess. But you are more than just beautiful now, you are stunning, bewitching, you are heavenly.
His heart jumps at the sound of your giggle, his skin heating up so rapidly that it catches him off guard.
Steve watches you, he watches for what feels like forever, you’re here with friends, girls you used to hang out with back in high school.
The smile never leaves his lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his heart fluttering more and more each passing second, eyes continuing to light up at every sound of your giggle.
When you step away from your friends and walk back into the house, he wastes no time to follow, grabbing the chance that he once missed, he goes after you and leaves his drink abandoned on the floor.
He brushes past a group of guys playing beer pong, dodging the dancing people on the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on your body as he follows. Your skirt is swaying, your waves are bouncing, your hips are shaking slightly, your sweet scent lingers in the air and he can’t help but inhale it deeply, it’s still the same scent that he missed on his pillows and the hoodies you used to steal.
With your back turned to him, you stop in front of the snack table and pour yourself a cup of the overly alcoholised punch.
Steve doesn’t approach you right away, standing by the doorway, he decides to watch you for a second longer, feeling giddy and nervous now that he is so close to you again.
You nearly choke on the punch, the bitter taste of alcohol overpowering the fruity taste, you scrunch your brows together and swallow it down in disgust, unimpressed by this drink after all the different kind of cocktails you have tried in the past months on your night outs to bars with your girlfriends from college.
A sigh falls from your lips and you take a second, much needed sip.
It feels weird to be back home in Hawkins, the town is much quieter than the big city you called home for the past year and you feel that weird tingly shudder on the back of your neck, knowing that he is so close somewhere.
Steve.
You miss him so much, you miss him everyday, but it’s been so long, you can’t even remember the last time you have talked to him. You know that he still works at Family Video and his friend Robin moved into his house with him after his parents moved away from Hawkins, for good.
But that’s all, you don’t know if he is single or if he is dating – you fear your heart wouldn’t take the information very well, which is ironic really, you haven’t seen him in so long, all you have are your memories, some of which you kept in a shoebox under your bed, pictures, notes, letters and little presents from him. Steve was nothing but a ghost these past months and yet it didn’t stop your heart from falling deeper in love… even with just the boy in your memory, the one that will haunt you for the rest of your life.
A sigh falls from your lips as you look down at the red beverage in your cup, you close your eyes and take another sip and swallow it but this time in delight, you welcome the burning in your throat.
“You still make that cute face when you don’t like something.”
The voice you have just been thinking about sounds deeper than it did when you left.
Those shudders at the back of your neck, run down your spine and transform into heat across your whole body, your heart skips a few beats.
You turn to face him, sloshing the drink around in your cup, you nearly spill it on the white tiles beneath you. Your breath hitches in your throat and your chest tightens when you look at him for the first time again, those hazel eyes that you have missed so much staring back at you with excitement yet nervousness and you have no doubt that your own eyes match the look in his.
Your lips curl into a shy smile, your cheeks heat up so quickly and you nearly crush the plastic cup in your hand when you let your eyes roam his body. He somehow got even taller, his arms look stronger and his shoulders wider, his hair got longer too, a spitcurl hanging over his forehead, his cheeks are rosy, a stubble covering his jaw and chin, your eyes move down his arm, stopping at the black hair tie around his wrist that momentarily steals your breath away and fills your chest with hope. You lick your lips and swallow as you stare at the veins in his hands.
There he stands with his stupid, still perfectly styled hair and his Levi’s that are always way too tight around his crotch, looking down at you and reminding you of how much taller he is and always was.
“Hey,” he breathes, nervously, happily.
“Steve,” you say with a smile on your lips, “hi.”
Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know what to say, your heart is beating so hard, he can feel it in his throat, he feels so nervous, you make him nervous. His charm, his flirtatious side still fades into nothing when he is around you and the world around him still disappears when he is with you, some things truly never change.
He wants to take a step closer and wrap his arms around you, he wants to hug you and never let go again but he doesn’t want to overstep so he forces himself to stay in place.
“Y-You’re back,” he smiles, trying to hide his excitement.
You nod, probably a little too quickly.
“Yeah, I’m back,” you nod again, feeling awkward and tense standing here before him after all the countless nights you spent thinking, dreaming about him.
He breathes heavily and fidgets with the hair tie around his wrist, “for the summer or…?”
You shake your head, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes.
“No, I-I transferred to uh the community college here…” You scrunch your face up when you see the surprised look on his face. “I know, lame right? Moving away from Chicago and back to your hometown is uh not the.. move.”
Not the move? He repeats in his head.
This might be the best day of his life – the day he had been waiting for, for your return.
Steve’s eyes widen, he purses his lips as he starts shaking his head, raising his hand a little, he steps closer to you.
“No! No, I’m just surprised, that’s all, I didn’t think you’d ever come back… honestly,” he chuckles nervously and brings his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. “But I’m happy to see you back here again.”
Happy is an understatement, the feelings in him can’t be put into words, they do not exist.
Your eyes soften at his words, your smile transforming into a soft one, hope swirling inside of you.
Did he miss you like you missed him?
“I’m happy to see you,” he adds, his cheeks heating up at his admission and your beauty doesn’t help his case, his eyes roam your body, your pretty features, your soft skin, the chain around your neck that looks oh so familiar, his heart starts beating faster, his hands shaking from the giddiness lingering in him. “Y-You look…” Stunning, mesmerizing, gorgeous, sexy, adorable, like an angel or a goddess. “Amazing.” He breathes, blushing red.
Your eyebrows pull together as your wide eyes fill with emotion.
You see the way he looks at you, you see the redness in his cheeks, the shyness in his eyes that surprises you the most.
You take a shaky breath, cursing at the way your cheeks heat up and glow so hotly.
“Thank you,” you say without stutter, to your own surprise. “You don’t look bad yourself, Harrington,” you smirk at him, smugness taking over your blushing features when you see him looking down in nervousness.
Did you just make Steve blush?
You open your mouth again, feeling the urge to compliment him again when a whistle interrupts you and wipes the smirk off your face, instead a look of disgust takes over your features when you turn your head to see Tommy Hagan looking you up and down with a perverted smile on his face.
He pushes his way between you, earning a glare from Steve, whose face turned stone cold and angry. Tommy grabs a red solo cup and pours himself some of the punch while he continues to give you nasty looks, chuckling when looks at your cleavage, “shit, now I get why Harrington always kept his favorite toy to himself,” he smirks and takes a sip of his drink before he steps back to wink at Steve, wiping his chin and looking back to you, “you really grew up.”
Your lips curl downwards, your brows pull together in a frown.
“Dude, what the fuck,” Steve frowns at him, giving him a disapproving look.
Tommy always made you feel uncomfortable with his comments and his weird looks, but it was something else back then. This is new, this is disgusting.
“If I knew back then that you were hiding these behind your sweaters, I would’ve definitely hit it,” he chuckles darkly as he stares at your boobs.
Bile rises in your throat and your grip tightens on your cup, the urge to throw your punch into his face growing strong.
Steve rolls his eyes, a frustrated sigh falls from his lips and he steps towards his former friend, he places his hand on his chest and pushes him back as he takes a protective stance in front of you, protecting you from Tommy’s prying eyes.
“Alright, that’s enough, asshole,” Steve mumbles angrily. “Leave her alone or I swear to–”
“You swear to what, man? You and I both know you can’t do shit,” Tommy laughs at Steve, his eyes crinkle in amusement, irritating Steve further.
Steve might’ve lost most of his fights, but he wouldn’t lose one if it came to you.
He clenches his jaw and glares down at him, feeling rage burn within him.
“Seriously dude, get lost, alright?” He demands, his voice sounding deeper, more serious than before.
You look over Steve’s shoulder, feeling safe and protected by him, the way you always did, just even more now. Your stomach flutters with warmth, your heart swelling in your chest.
To your surprise, Tommy steps away without another word, continuing to chuckle at Steve and the glare on his face. He gives you another look.
“Call me if you–”
“Fuck off, Tommy,” Steve says through gritted teeth, feeling hot rage flushing through him.
Tommy takes another sip as he walks backwards, winking at you before he finally turns around and leaves the kitchen, allowing you to finally breathe.
Steve runs his fingers through his hair and huffs, turning back to you, his features instantly soften.
“I’m sorry about him.”
You shake your head, your smile reappearing again, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, “some people just never change.”
“Yeah…” He mumbles, wondering if you changed at all, “did you?”
Did you change? You ask yourself. Maybe, surely college has shaped you in some way, being away from home, being independent and all alone, meeting new people and being pushed into situations you would have never allowed as a teenager, did change something in you.
You got more confident, a little bolder too, you tried new things and did them without shame, something that was once impossible when you were still here and an insecure teen.
You tilt your head to the side and give him a sly smirk, “why don’t you find out?”
The anger Tommy left him with fades away, the flirtatious tone in your voice catching him by surprise and you take it even further when you take a step closer to him after placing your drink on the counter, you look up at him with your big eyes that still drive him crazy.
He doesn’t remember you to be this flirty… this bold but he can’t complain, it makes the fluttering in his stomach feel so much more intense.
Steve’s lips curl back into a smile, he blinks at you, looking into your eyes intensely, with want and need – nothing changed, if anything, the magnetic force between you has intensified, even when there was mostly only radio silence between you both in these past months.
Steve licks his lips, a sliver of his confidence slipping back in when he sees the way you look at him, eyes roaming his face and his body. Though his cheeks are still burning and his heart is still racing, no matter how much confidence he can find within himself, you are still you, you are still the girl that holds his heart in the palm of her hand, the one who has him captivated in every way possible, the one who has had him wrapped around her finger, from a very young age. You aren’t just a girl to woo and impress for a single date, you aren’t someone he would forget if a conversation or a date went wrong, you are the one he always wanted to grow old with, to experience everything with, to spend a life with the one who is his everything – one wrong move and he loses it all… again.
He doesn’t bother to ask if you are with someone, if you are dating and taken, the thought is disturbing to his heart.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks as he slowly reaches for your hand and you allow him to take it when you slip your palm against his and give his hand a squeeze.
He nearly crumbles to his knees when he feels your soft touch again, it’s been too long. Your hand always fit into his so perfectly, like it was made to be held by him.
You nod, whispering a sweet ‘yes, please’. That’s all he needs to hear before he pulls you closer to his body, pushing you in front of him slightly, keeping a protective stance right behind you as he never lets go of your hand, basking in the feeling of having you so close again, of being able to smell your perfume again and the sweet scent of your body wash.
He rubs circles on the top of your hand, pressing his other hand on the small of your back as he pushes through the crowds of people. He leads you to Robin first, needing to make sure that she will get home safe without him. He finds her playing beer pong with Vickie and a few of their former bandmates from high school. He taps on her shoulder and when she turns around, Steve grows more nervous than before, because her eyes grow wide when she sees you next to him, excitement flashing in them and a big grin appearing on her face after a long moment of staring at you.
She knows all about you.
She knows all about his feelings and his regrets.
She knows how much he missed you.
She was there when he cried and never stopped talking about you.
So after greeting you, probably a little too enthusiastically, she moves closer to Steve, raising her eyebrows at him and giving him a teasing, yet pointed look.
“Go and don’t worry about me, Vickie can drive, she’s not drinking tonight.”
“You sure?”
She nods, her waves bouncing as she moves her head a little too quickly.
“Steve I’m fine, go and get your girl,” she winks at him, squeezing his shoulder before she moves back, giving him another look that says nothing but ‘i mean it, don’t fuck it up this time, this is your chance.’
Steve nods at her, smiling and feeling reassured by her. He holds your hand tighter and pulls you away before you can properly say goodbye to his friend that you only know from your days in high school. You look back at her to find her staring at the two of you, grinning from ear to ear, she raises her eyebrows at you, eyes glowing as she gives you a smirk and a small wave of her hand.
You feel a little confused by the teasing look on her face but smile and wave back at her nonetheless before Steve whisks you away and out of the room.
It isn’t weird to hold each other’s hand, to be back together in his car like nothing ever happened, like you never stopped doing this, like things are still normal between you. He makes small talk, it’s not awkward or weird, it’s… nice, anything is as long as you’re with him, even the silly jokes makes or how he tries to quote Shakespeare but fails miserably, he makes you laugh and you… you make him smile.
You stop by the gas station to grab a six pack and some snacks to share before you drive to the lookout, to the place you always went to when you wanted to be alone together.
You get comfortable on the hood of his car, as comfortable as you can get on the rough surface. It’s a little chillier out here in the woods, the wind that blows through the trees makes goosebumps arise on your skin. Steve, of course, has to use the opportunity to throw his jacket around your shoulders, rubbing your arms to warm you up as he moves close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.
You feel something stir within you, something only ever he could make you feel.
You grab the denim and pull it tighter around you, glancing at him through your lashes, you feel your cheeks heat up when you find him staring at you already, a soft smile playing on his lips that you can see, even in this darkness.
“Thanks Stevie.” A grin tugs at your lips when his smile moves into a flustered one.
Steve licks his lips, he removes his hands from your body and busies himself with opening the beer bottles for you and him, “you’re welcome, honey,” he whispers, winking at you.
You look away from him with blushing cheeks, hiding the smile on your face as you tilt your head down but nothing goes unnoticed by him, he sees the flustered expression in your features, the cute smile you’re trying to hold back.
He scoots closer to you until his shoulder is pressed against yours, he offers you the opened bottle. You glance at his hand, taking in the size of it, how big it is, how his veins pop, how long his fingers are – it makes you squirm and clench your thighs together and he notices it, he looks down and he almost regrets it, almost. Your skirt has ridden up, it nearly covers nothing, at this point. Your skin looks so smooth, thighs so soft, he wants to touch them, kiss them, feel them wrapped around his head.
His skin heats up, his lower stomach tingles, he craves you, in every way possible, he just wants to… feel you, he wants to feel you close, he wants your skin on his, he needs to know that you are truly back.
Your touch sends shivers down his spine, it makes his stomach flip.
He blinks, looking down at the bottle he is still holding, watching the way your hand curls around it, fingers grazing his own. Your hand is so much smaller than his, the urge to compare the size of his own to yours growing strong.
“Steve?”
Your soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he blushes, cheeks burning maroon. He shakes his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut as he furrows his eyebrows, he removes his hand from your bottle, already missing the touch of your hand.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he runs his fingers through his hair, “I got a little uh… distracted.”
He instantly regrets it when his eyes fall back on your lap again, your giggle makes him blush even deeper, he eyes you from the side, watching the way you press your lips against the bottle, you take a sip, trying to hide the smirk on your lips.
He feels a sudden sense of nervousness rushing through him – here he is, in the presence of the girl of his dreams, the girl that slipped through his fingers, the girl that should be his and he is messing up. He begins to stutter, trying to distract himself once again, this time from your legs, from your soft skin, from how much he wants to touch and kiss you, from how beautiful you are but you make him stutter, you make it difficult for him to talk, you make it impossible for him to be smooth, to flirt with you the way he always did with other girls and suddenly, he is reminded of why he was always so scared of revealings his feelings to you, there was too much at stake, he didn’t want to lose you.
He always felt so pathetic around you, like a stupid kid in love, one that can’t talk to his crush without blushing, without stuttering.
And this is exactly what you always adored about him.
But he doesn't know it, he doesn’t even realize it, he doesn’t even see the way your eyes always light up, the way they soften as you look at him, the way you admire him.
Before he even takes a sip of his beer, he already feels like he is drunk, his skin is hot, his mind hazy, he feels happy, at ease, like he is floating, all because of you, you make him feel so… light.
He is drunk on you, without having touched you properly, your presence is enough.
He wonders how you are holding up, what emotions linger inside of you — you look so calm, relaxed.
You fall into a comfortable conversation, catching up on the things you have missed in each other's lives, since being separated. And while your eyes stay glued on the night sky, only glancing at him every once in a while, he watches you, with a fluttering feeling in his chest and a smile on his lips.
You laugh with each other, getting lost in the memories that you both start bringing up, joking and slapping each other’s shoulders softly as you start to tease one another about the stupid things that you both have done in the past.
You have changed, not only physically did you get even more beautiful, you got something that you didn’t have before, a boldness that you always admired others for. You used to be so shy, anxious to ask the simplest questions, too nervous to hold eye contact for longer than two seconds, even with him, sometimes. But now, despite you choosing to look at the sky instead of him, he can tell that you are not that shy girl anymore, who was afraid to look into his eyes. You are confident, comfortable in your own skin, not afraid to be you, not afraid to gaze into his eyes when you tilt your head to look at him.
He wonders what or… who caused it, the change in you.
Was it just the circumstances? The big city that pushed you out of your comfort zone?
New friends? Being on your own? Or… was it the experiences you have made in these past few months that have shaped you from an innocent, shy teenager into a confident, young woman?
His stomach churns at the thought of the things you have done while being away from home, or better yet, who you have done them with. He has no right to be upset about it, he knows it, yet he can’t stop the sinking feeling inside of him as he thinks of the hands that have touched your body or the lips that kissed yours, if you had dated someone, if you are someone else’s right now.
The question tumbles from his lips before he can even stop himself.
“Do you have anyone?”
The storm that was just raging in his mind, the string of questions that followed now silenced as he stares at you, waiting for your answer with a racing heart and clammy hands.
The sound of crickets and the rustling of the trees are the only sounds now filling the space around you.
“You mean… a boyfriend?”
He nods and you shake your head at that. You bring the bottle up to your lips, taking a much needed sip.
“No, I don’t,” you murmur as your eyes roam his face, “why?”
You notice the frown on his face, the way his lips are curled down and his eyebrows are tightly scrunched together.
“Just wondering… someone like you still single?”
“What do you mean…?” You ask slowly.
Steve huffs, shaking his head with a smile on his face.
“I mean… Come on, honey. You’re funny, you’re smart and you’re just… you’re amazing,” he sighs adoringly, hazel eyes running up down and your face and your body. “You’re beautiful, a fucking catch.”
You almost want to scoff at his words, you want to roll your eyes and look the other way. A catch, right. A catch he never wanted. Your heart betrays you when it flutters and prompts a girlish giggle to fall from your lips.
“Stop.”
He nudges his shoulder against yours, grinning at your flustered face, “it’s the truth.”
Steve feels relieved to know that you don’t have anyone waiting on you, that there isn’t some guy out there that got the girl he always wanted.
“You have to say that,” you shake your head and drink the last drop of your beer before you throw the bottle down on the grass, making a mental note to pick it up later.
Because he is your best friend, because he was always your best friend, no matter what – so of course, he has to say these words to you.
He rolls his eyes at you, huffing, “I’m not just saying that.”
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the way his words can make you feel like that shy teenage girl again, you try to steer the attention away from you.
You press your palm against the cold, almost icy hood, leaning back, you tilt your head to the side and gaze at him, loving how long his hair grew, how his features are more… manly now, though the boyish grin still lingers.
“What about you?” You whisper, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue. “Got anybody, Stevie?”
He shakes his head quickly, almost frowning at your question.
“Me? No… no one really… felt right.” He says with a look of longing in his eyes, the one that is only reserved for you.
The tension in your chest disappears, almost instantly, you have an idea of what you would feel like had the answer been a different one.
“I was seeing a girl… for a while but uh… like I said, it… she didn’t feel right,” he admits with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach.
You nod, swallowing harshly.
“Why didn’t she feel right?” You’re aware of how small, how shaky your voice sounds.
You wait, wait and wait for him to answer your question, the answer he tries to find in your eyes as it seems because he won’t stop looking at you, it’s like he is searching for something, like he is trying to figure you out, like he is trying to make sense of the question you just asked.
He doesn’t give you what you want, as always, Steve Harrington pretends like nothing happened, like nothing had been asked.
But you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, you had someone too, back in Chicago.
He was nice, he was good to you, in more ways than just one but no matter how much you tried not to think of him, you always failed. He was always there, always in the back of your mind, always ready to haunt you and remind you that he is and will always be the only one that your heart will belong to.
Your relationship was only short lived, and you left him the moment you realized how unfair it was to stay with him when your heart was somewhere else, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve.
Something rustles in the bushes, something echoes loudly through the woods, something that would have normally made you flinch, doesn’t even faze you now because he is here. You feel safe in his presence, you always did, not even the darkest night or the loudest storm could make you feel afraid as long as he was by your side.
And yet, you scoot closer to him, not even noticing that you do until his fingers brush against yours and sparks shoot through your entire body.
And through his.
You clear your throat and take a deep breath, “yeah… I had someone… but he didn’t feel right either.” You say softly, vulnerably as you meet his eyes again.
A soft ‘oh’ leaves his mouth and he nods, looking down at the bottle in his hand, he brings it up to his lips and downs the rest of it. He feels his stomach churning, his insides crawling at the mere thought of you with someone who isn’t him and it makes him feel awful, it makes him feel ridiculous because wasn’t that his own fault? He blew his chances with you. He let you go, hell, he didn’t even fight for you.
He puts the bottle down, wipes his mouth and runs his fingers through his hair before he turns back to you to find you staring at him just the way you always did, with your big doe eyes, those pleading and begging looks you never stopped throwing at him.
He’d have to be blind to not see it – he always did, he just never allowed himself to admit it, not even to himself, not even when you were all he ever wanted.
“Why didn’t he feel right?”
Steve watches the way your lips curl downwards, the way you squint your eyes at him, the softness fleeing as you glare at him instead.
And suddenly, the air around you feels different, tense for another reason, heavy and filled with something neither of you ever addressed before.
While you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself – Steve tries to mend the aching in his chest, the hammering that feels just too strong.
“Why didn’t she feel right, huh?” You ask, scooting away from him and getting off the hood, placing your feet back on the ground, you don’t even bother to smooth down your skirt. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in front of him, demanding the answer you tried to ask softly before.
Steve sighs, growing fearful and anxious, feeling like he is messing up yet again, like he is about to lose again.
But you are close, so goddamn close, even through the anger in your eyes, you still stand in reach, your knees now brush against his. He straightens his back, fighting the urge to reach for your hands and just pull you into him, showing you why no one ever felt right.
He promised Robin, he promised her that if you ever came back, he would go and get you, he would come clean about it all, he would make it all right again.
“This goes both ways, Steve. You can’t just ask me and then–”
“Because no one is you.”
He won’t fail this again, no matter how scared he is, he just can’t.
Your lips part in surprise, a painful look crosses your eyes, though the anger doesn’t fade away just yet. You uncross your arms, and shake your head at him.
His words should bring you joy, shouldn’t they?
But as you stand here before him, his knees brushing your own, his golden brown eyes staring at you with nothing but love, you can’t help but feel your heart aching because why now? Why not then?
“So… it took me to leave town… go to college… for you to say this?” You whisper, holding back a choke as your eyes well up with unwanted tears.
His own eyes panic when he sees just how much pain there is inside of you, how much you hid it. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, he sighs in relief when you don’t push him away like he thought you would.
“It was always there. Before our first kiss, before our first time, and then it never stopped. But you were… you were scary. Feeling love that strong at such a young age– it wasn’t in my plans. I was scared… I was scared of loving you and losing you. It happened before.”
His parents.
He loved them unconditionally, he loved them no matter what they did and didn’t do, he loved them and he lost them – they abandoned him and then they forgot about him.
Your eyes show nothing but pain, your heart breaks, all over again, for him.
And you’re stunned, so goddamn shocked because that word fell from his lips. Love. He loved you.
You curl your hand around his, squeezing them tightly as he gets off his car, standing tall before you again.
“You… still could have–”
“Risked it?” Steve interrupts you, furrowing his brows as he looks down at you. “No… I wasn’t going to risk it. Risk losing you…” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself, “now I see how stupid that was because I lost you anyways.”
His eyes well up with tears, his voice almost cracks and you finally… finally get to see a glimpse into his heart, how much pain he was always hiding.
“No… I don’t think you lost me.”
“Honey, we haven’t talked in–”
“What you felt for me… Is it… Is it past tense?”
Steve should see the hope in your eyes, he should hear it in your voice too, but he is so scared, so nervous at this moment.
Everything he had always been afraid of was losing you because of his feelings and he can’t help but wonder, what if he confesses his love to you now and his saddest fear creeps in and he will lose you for good, forever?
“Why do you want to know?” He asks, shakily.
You hold his hands tighter, taking another step closer until you are chest to chest. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you look up at him, begging with your eyes, yet again. “Because I deserve to know, Steve, do you still have feelings for me?”
He takes a long pause, feeling like his heart might explode, feeling like the ground might disappear beneath him if he doesn’t finally give you the whole truth.
His eyes flicker down to your lips, the ones he craved to feel on his own for years, his body aches for you just the way his heart does, desire running deep but love taking full control, driving both his heart and his mind insane over you. He feels the pounding from his chest to his throat, his eyes glossy with tears he shed so many times over you, over his regrets.
“Yes,” he whispers, already feeling his chest deflating as the pressure slowly sinks away, “like I said, they never stopped.”
Tears spill down yours and his cheeks, his shoulders slump in relief and you, you finally breathe. You sniffle and a giggle falls from your lips, one that makes him furrow his brows but smile because now he can see the happiness in your eyes, the joy from hearing this from him.
“Oh, thank god,” you whisper and throw your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest, you hug him tightly, catching him off guard.
It takes him a moment, it takes him a very long moment.
His glassy eyes are wide, his heart is threatening to break free from his chest. He wanted this, he wanted you for so long, he feels like this is too good to be true but when he feels your tears seeping through his shirt and how you cling to his body, like you are afraid that he might disappear if you let go, he finally relaxes. His eyes close gently, tears spilling down his cheeks, he melts into your touch and curls his arms around you, cupping the back of your head, he holds you closely, tightly.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head, he gives a first kiss again.
“I missed you, Stevie,” you murmur into his chest, holding onto his shirt.
He moves even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you rise to your tippy toes, wanting to feel more of him, as though he isn’t close enough already, not even when your chest to chest.
Steve breathes in your scent, the one he used to sink his face into when it still lingered on his pillows, when he longed to feel you in his arms, when he craved you so badly but felt too cowardly to make the move he just made now.
You cling to one another, like you never have before, not even when he held you during nights you needed him the most, when you were both so convinced that you were nothing more than friends… when just friendship was never something possible between you.
Steve’s eyes are shut tightly, he is so lost in the feeling of you, feeling so warm, so safe, so loved in your embrace.
How can his heart race so fast yet feel so… calm?
You don’t know how much time passes as you stand there in each other’s arms, you are so lost in the moment, you couldn’t care less about anything around you, about the time, about your surroundings, about the world – only you and him matter, nothing more.
He cups the side of your face when you begin to pull away to look at one another, glossy eyes gazing into each other, lips begging to be connected. His fingers brush through your hair, he tucks your front pieces behind your ears and caresses your cheeks. His hazel eyes flash with adoration. You are so beautiful. It makes his heart clench in his chest.
You slide your hands up his chest, moving up to his neck and cupping his cheeks, your stomach growing with anticipation the closer you both move to each other.
No words are spoken, there is no need for them, your eyes tell everything, just like your touch when your lips finally connect.
Your hearts stop beating, time stops ticking, the world stops moving.
Everything around you stops.
Just absolutely everything.
Your eyes flutter shut, just like his.
A kiss you both never stopped craving finally happening, not only in your minds, but in reality.
Steve sighs in contentment, a whimper following close behind, your lips move slowly, softly with each other, you savor each and every second, even when you know that this is only the beginning of it all.
Nothing and no one could ever compare to this, no one could ever come between you, you are two puzzle pieces, ones that were made for only each other, no one else to match you both. It’s only you and him. Your hearts know, you know, he knows.
The way he kisses you so gently, so sensually, makes your stomach flip in ways it never did before, not even back then when you shared first and second kisses.
And Steve, he feels like he is in a dream that he never wants to wake from again, he is too scared to open his eyes and find himself in his lonely bed, surrounded by the scent of you that he only imagines, that forever lingers like a kiss upon his skin.
But your whimper is real, your lips are real, you are real, your lips taste just like they did before, sweet and peachy, like home.
You only pull away to catch your breath, smiling when Steve chases your lips with his own, nuzzling his nose against yours as a soft giggle falls from his puffy lips, “god… I missed you, princess.” He murmurs against your lips, knowing that he will keep repeating these words, over and over again, he feels like he has been blessed by the universe.
Your best friend’s eyes shine so brightly, the love in them that you always craved to see, is so evident, it’s all out in the open now, all in reach, all there for the taking – when not even a few hours ago, you didn’t even know where he was, if he still thought of you, if he still cared for you…
Tears escape your eyes and he wastes not second to catch them, to wipe them away and kiss your wet cheek.
“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, feeling like his heart might break, knowing that you have suffered just the way he did, when he thought that you moved on, that you had forgotten all about him just like everyone else did when that was never even the case, when all you did was long for him, love him, even from afar.
“I love you,” he whispers in relief, feeling like the weight of the world is off his shoulders, “I love you so fucking much, you’re my–”
You cup his cheeks and pull him down once again, kissing him deeply. “You.” Kiss. “Don’t.” Kiss. “Know.” Kiss. “How.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Dreamed.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “This.” Kiss. “Moment.”
Steve's heart flutters the way it never did before, butterflies go wild in his stomach, his eyes crinkle and he smiles so brightly, his cheeks hurt.
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington, you have no idea how much–”
His lips are on yours, pressed against them so strongly as he pulls you into another deep, passionate kiss before you can even finish your sentence. He kisses you in a way no one ever did before.
His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, his tongue parts your lips so effortlessly, your own clashing against his as the softness of your feelings disappears and transforms into something needy, hungry. This kiss is much faster, much rougher, much more passionate than the first, you get lost in it so quickly.
When he takes a step back and he sits back down on the hood of his car, he moves his hands down to your waist, pulling you in between his legs.
Your arms move around his shoulders, your hands get lost in his hair, fingers gripping it tightly as moans escape you. The kiss makes you feel so hot, your stomach burns, your skin feels like it’s on fire as his hands move up and down your back, slipping underneath his jacket that is still around your shoulders, under your shirt and then, he touches your soft skin with his cold hand, something that makes you shiver yet lean closer against him.
He moans against your lips, he is so intoxicated by you, needing more and more, like you’re his own personal drug. He could keep doing this, he could take you right here, right now. He could taste you, unravel you with his tongue, with his fingers, he could hold your hands and make love to you like he always wanted to, like he hoped he’d get to tonight – because he thought that this might be all he would get, a night with you, only that and no more, because how could you ever want anything more than this with him after all the times he messed up with you? After he let you slip through his fingers like it was nothing?
But this won’t stay a single night, this won’t be one that will haunt him for the rest of his life.
This will turn into more, so much more.
He doesn’t want to mess it up again, he wants to take it slow, he wants to give you everything you deserve, everything he craved to give you, all these years, everything he dreamed about, during the day and the night.
So as much as he wants this, you, your bare skin on his and your whimpers blessing his ears, you deserve more, you deserve to be taken on a date first.
“Hang on,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your cheeks again, his lips curl into an amused smile when he opens his eyes to see your smudged lipstick that is no doubt on his face now too, your hair a mess just like his own, “I want to… fuck… I want you so bad, I couldn’t stop thinking about this, about you. But I want to take it slow, I-I want to do it right this time, I want to take you on a date and–”
You cut him off with a kiss, once more. Pressing your lips against his plush ones, over and over again until it makes you both giggle. He grabs your waist and pulls you down on his lap, grabbing your cheeks, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Slow is good,” you whisper, caressing his cheek as his fingers run up and down your spine underneath the denim jacket. “I like slow.”
“Yeah?” He smiles.
You nod, though an almost sad smile makes its way on your lips, “you know, I kinda thought you forgot about me until all of this.” You wave your hand around, wiping at your wet cheek as a soft laugh tumbles from your lips.
You weren’t the only one who stopped calling, who stopped sending letters, he did too, but not for the reasons you thought, clearly.
A deep frown appears on his face, he tightens his hold on you, raising his hand up towards your face, he cups your cheek. Despite everything he just said, despite the kiss, you still don’t understand just how deep his feelings for you are, how his heart isn’t even his own because it is completely, devotedly yours.
“I could never forget you,” he whispers with a sad smile on his face, “you’re all I ever think about, now and then, even when we were kids, even when I was… King Steve,” he rolls his eyes at the nickname he used to be so proud of. “You never once left my mind, not once.”
The smile that makes his way to your lips makes his heart skip a beat, he kisses your cheek, letting his lips linger for a moment.
“So please, let me make it right, let me fix everything… go on a date with me?” He asks with nothing but hope in giddiness in his voice.
You squint your eyes and tilt your head, giving him a teasing smile as you pretend to think but his soft eyes make your teasing an impossible task at this moment, you wipe the lipstick off his mouth and nuzzle your nose back against his.
“I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie,” you whisper, feeling your heart burst from joy and love.
The one thing you always wanted, you always craved now finally happening, at a moment when you least expected it.
Coming back home made you so nervous, knowing that you would see him again after all this time of being apart, knowing that your feelings will only continue to grow, no matter the tie between you, filled you with a sense of… dread, because you couldn’t help but wonder – does he even want to see you?
But, to find out that he had spent every passing moment, thinking about you, about your past, wanting you back and willing you to come running back into his arms lights up everything inside you again – flames you have tried to put out, burning stronger than ever.
Steve’s eyes well up with tears of joy again, he cups the back of your neck, his lips brush against yours, he can’t even describe his feelings with words, so he doesn’t even try, but he shows you the happiness you brought back into his life, the happiness that was just gone when you were… gone. He kisses you, once, twice… He keeps kissing you, over and over again, unable to stop himself from going back in for more, consumed by love, by gratitude and happiness to know that you came back.
To know that you won’t haunt his what if’s.
He won’t chase your shadows wherever he will go.
Your scent won’t linger from just his memory alone.
He waited and waited, and he let the lamp burn and now… now you are here, you came back, you came back to him.
Here, at the lookout where you used to sit on your saddest days, you find your way back to one another again.
As you embrace the future written for you, you know that the rings on your fingers won't only be imaginary ones like the ones from your childhood.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington one shot#stranger things angst
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The impact of the person who first wrote omegaverse....I wonder where they are and if they know their idea was used to determine ai was using fanfiction as data for the stories & chat bots it makes
#honestly the whole ai thing is annoying cuz what problem is it solving?#none#its just cranking out meaningless shit & hoping someone buys it#mindless production#thats so boring to me#honestly it seems like the folks who act like its some gift to the world just dont appreciate artists or writers in general#cuz if you did youd know a good portion of songs and art and writing is a labor of intention & love#even if its shitty#intention is still there#honestly i think the mentality is not disimilar to the folks who shit on small designers for their prices#like someone who handbeaded purses went viral this week cuz folks where in the comments saying she didnt deserve how much she was charging#and its just like...these people do not know the labor and talent and time that goes into bead work#just like how most western folks dont know the work that goes into making clothes in general#theyre so used to the exploitation of folks abroad that provides their shein hauls that they cant appreciate what they have or the craft#mass production - hyper consumption - exploitation - ai - its all interrelated#these folks mindlessly consume and think consumption is as effortless as creation
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some of these dabi analyzers need to seek out the real world
#saw someone say something so wholly stupid i wanted to die#specifically about the scene between rei and touya when she's trying to convince touya to change his trajectory#something about how this shouldn't be on touya to figure things out since enji is the parent#and it's just a bunch of garbage. talking a lot but saying nothing#abusive parents just sometimes are not capable of giving the love or care that a child requires#and it's not fair but those children will have to learn to deal with that#that's reality. sorry.#and from everything we've seen endeavor is NOT capable of changing in even the slightest#he is incapable of loving touya based on everything we've seen.#any minute change he has made is far FAR too little far too late#and ''fair'' or not that's just something the rest of the family is going to have to deal with.#touya doesn't need endeavor to receive closure or begin healing.#''but that isn't touya's responsibility'' is meaningless#in the context of rei's advice because while i'm not saying she said all the right things#she's working with what she's got. and what she's got is an abusive piece of shit whose abuse is getting worse#and has refused attempts from her and touya to change his behavior#do you expect her to pull a jedi mind trick?#perhaps talk with enji (again) because surely this time he'll see the error of his ways?#what other choice does she have but to try and coax touya into realizing that he doesn't need endeavor to have a purpose#or find happiness and peace with his life?#but i'll be good and not start drama with these big blogs who put post the coldest fucking takes on this site#good fucking god help me
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chase it
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?
warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!
ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?
his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?
he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.
the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.
tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.
“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”
“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?
“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”
“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.
“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”
“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.
if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.
if you feel it, chase it.
he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.
“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”
tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.
you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.
“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.
“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.
tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.
“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.
“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.
“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.
“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.
“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”
“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.
“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.
“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.
“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.
“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”
“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”
“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.
“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.
“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.
“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.
“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”
“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”
“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”
“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.
“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.
you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.
“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.
“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”
you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.
“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”
“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.
“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”
“okay.” you nodded.
“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”
you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.
“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.
you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”
“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”
“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”
you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”
you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.
“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.
“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.
“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.
he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.
he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.
“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.
“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”
“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.
“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”
“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”
“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”
“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.
the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.
“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”
“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.
“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”
“i’m yours.” you mumbled.
“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”
you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.
“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.
“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.
the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.
“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.
“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”
“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”
“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.
“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”
“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”
“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”
“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.
the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.
the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.
“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.
“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.
“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.
“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”
“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.
“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”
“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”
“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”
you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”
the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.
#spotify#glen powell#glen powell imagine#glen powell smut#twisters#twisters movie#tyler owens#anyone but you#top gun maverick#top gun hangman#jake seresin#lana del rey#lana del ray aesthetic#born to die#hollywood
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I have felt like people have viewed me as a "walking vagina" my whole life. Like ohhh look at that hot sexy vagina owner.. oh and there are other body parts too ahaha ! I can't stress how much being treated like this sucks and my he/him pronouns don't save me from being seen like this
there are people who spin friendship into a negative thing called the "friend zone" because to them the friendship is meaningless only a stepping stone to sex ...
If someone refuses to have sex with you do not start SULKING and do not start saying things like "I guess I'm just an un-fuckable piece of shit" do not start GUILT TRIPPING do not start that "no one loves me" type of shit
It makes people feel like they did something wrong by saying no to sex. And saying no to sex should always be an option.
Friendships are treasures and if you can't see that then the way out of the friend zone is through the front door .
On the other end: NEVER let someone guilt trip you into saying yes . Never get into relationships out of fear. 🙏 You deserve to be loved by someone who respects your boundaries
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Yandere arranged fiancé x reader
You’re the sole daughter of the famous (l/n) family; big corporations, monopolisation and seemingly endless wealth are all words associated with your family. You have lived well your entire life and will for the rest of it, too. You have never been denied of anything, whether it be new clothes, makeup or whatever new hobby had caught your interest at the moment- except for the chance to take over the business after your father.
Unfortunately, despite how loving your family could be, they still held on to old traditions and ideas. One of which was that the large portion of the inheritance should go to the son. No matter how hard you try or how much you plead, you will never inherit the companies.
Your family doesn’t understand. They believe you should be content with your position- of course you know you’re incredibly privileged, but you hoped do be able to contribute to something instead of just sitting around forever. It made things meaningless. Did you only exist to become someone’s wife?
You barely remembered the first time you met him. You were around seven and he was ten. Despite your foggy recollection of what you two did that day, you did recall the expression on his face; emptiness and indifference. It was the day before that you heard the word fiancé for the first time. You didn’t know what it really meant, but thanks to your parents guidance, you understood it meant you two are going to be together for the rest of your lives.
Your parents had a couple whom they’ve been close friends for a long time, and it just so happened they had a son a little over your age. They were rich, just like you. So why not marry you two when you got older?
The first impression you had of him was of the oddnes he carried with him. He never smiled, never cried and barely spoke. He only lest he’d you with that blank look on his face. At least he played with you. Well, it depends on if it could be called playing, considering it was you dragging him around and demanding he humour you. Looking back at it, you feel bad for him having to endure the torture of a child’s endless energy. However, he didn’t complain at all and kept passing the ball after you continued sending it his way.
Whatever ‘I’m happy so I’m gonna make you happy with my happiness’- magic you had in your youth did eventually rub off on him. The change was evident in more ways in one. He started smiling- albeit they were small- and even gave the occasional chuckle. After that you became friends for real and it wasn’t forced as it’d felt in the beginning. This positive shift served as a strong motivator for both your parents’ willingness to have you wed. You supposed you would be rather devastated as well if your one and only child had come out with the emotional constipation your fiancé had, so you understood their encouragement. They treated you like some miracle cure.
You were content with your life and arrangement for years. That was until you got older and began actually thinking about your situation in detail. Your ambitions and needs also grew and you found yourself wishing to work to make your family greater; to put down the sweat and blood your ancestors had to give you the life you had now. But it was simply a dream, one that wouldn’t come true. You would never forget the confused- almost mocking-disbelief your mother and father showed you when you asked to inherit the company.
“Sweetie, why’d you ever be interested in such things?” Your mother asked. “Simply relax and enjoy the life you have now- the life your husband will continue to provide for you.”
You looked towards your father, hoping he would support you in any shape or form but he nodded in agreement with your mother.
“She’s right, dear.”
He was never a man of many words, however you a single sentence you knew the topic was done with.
While you had no doubt they loved you, they certainly didn’t understand you either. They couldn’t fathom why you weren’t content with your life and didn’t wish for your partner to take care of everything.
You spiraled afterwards. You could have everything and nothing at once. It was a strange feeling and it left you feeling angry. And that anger had to be directed at something: your fiancé. You began thinking he was the source of your misfortune. Because of him you would lose your freedom and have to live by his restrictions and rules for the rest of your life. Once you turn (y/o) you’ll have to marry him no matter your opinion. You would solely be his.
There was still time before your wedding and you’d be damned if you couldn’t live how you wanted until then. In an attempt of rebellion you moved out of your family’s estate and into an apartment of your own. (They agreed because they thought you desired to spend some alone time with your fiancé without them being near) You also stopped responding to his calls; he’d been calling every week to get updates on how things were going. You simply put your phone on silent mode whenever his name popped up. After the fifth time of calling, you blocked his number in great annoyance. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? You’re not ten anymore, you don’t have to talk every second of the day, ugh.
After a couple weeks with your new living conditions, another thought hit you. If you were going to be tied down to one man forever, why not meet as many as you can right now? And so you started going out more, inviting your friends to go clubbing and perhaps find someone interesting. More weeks followed, with a new guy in your apartment every month. Some stayed for the night only, while some preferred to stay a little longer. However, they all left as quickly as they’d come when you’d mention your engagement. Either they didn’t want to get tangled up in some lovers drama or they’d cuss you out for being a cheater. Were you one? Whatever, you thought, it doesn’t count if you don’t love each other- which you didn’t.
But one day, completely unforeseen by you, he swung by your new apartment. He’d been worried about you. Almost three months had gone by without a single word from you. He believed you might’ve gotten in an accident. Suddenly, you felt ashamed. It was strange, you hadn’t felt anything like it earlier. But now you did. You realised that your sweet, innocent fiancé wasn’t the root of your problems. You need to stop directing your anger at the wrong person. You explained everything, about how you felt and why you ignored him for so long.
You profusely apologised to him a million times when he found out about the others you’d been spending time with. You would never forget the look on his face that day when he found out. It was cold- colder than you’d ever seen him. Of course, he was like that to most, but never to you. In the end, he chose to forgive you. He told you that he understood and that it was fine; you weren’t wed yet and it was natural that you wanted to explore. You swore that you’d stop and make it up to him, while he said it wasn’t necessary, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You also swore that you’d be loyal to him and that you’d never do anything behind his back when you’re legally married. Thankfully, he appeared to believe you.
However, you wished you could’ve foreseen what would happen next. Nowhere in your mind, did you think you’d find yourself in your luxurious bathroom, staring at the two red lines of a pregnancy test. Eapecially when your fiancé didn’t have a part in it.
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#oc#yandere oc#male yandere#obsessed#possesive#misstycloud oc#toxic#yandere x reader#yandere husband#yandere male#yandere#yandere oc x reader#rich yandere#yandere Laurent oc#misstycloud Laurent oc#rich reader#rich yandere x rich reader#pregnant reader
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"No" – people @ me
#i love my life :))#just tried to play this song for someone a few months ago and well now here's the answer#i know you guys will say not everybody hates me but it sure does feel like i'm second choice at best for everyone#and it fucking hurts because for once i just want to be a priority and treated as such#someone who's not left after an incident that can be talked about. someone who people will be there for even in dark times#someone who's given all the love of another person because god knows i do too even if i sometimes feel like i should give up on that#because it's never reciprocated or at least not for long and comes with many conditions i don't even know about until it's too late#i'm not even craving love from anyone just from people i love too so i'll keep suffering instead of giving my all for meaningless people#i've done that too many times and it only ended up painful for both parties which is why i don't want a rebound or whatever shit#but just for fucking once i want to feel like i mean enough to someone to stay with me when things aren't all sunshine and rainbows#deserving of love and enough to be the first choice and not second or third best until someone better comes along#god. sorry i'm just having a total meltdown and feeling lonely but i don't want to talk to anyone rn because i'm feeling too bad#mel talks#depressed bitch posting#audio
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CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.
word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight
a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.
“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”
satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.
usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.
but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found.
you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world.
and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.
“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”
satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing.
but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.
it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.
but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.
but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.
that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.
and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.
you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.
so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.
and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.
at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.
and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.
you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.
so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.
a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”
“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”
satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell.
so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.
”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”
satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.
he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.
he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy.
satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.
and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.
just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting.
all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?
(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)
satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now.
in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.
you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?
“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”
satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.
“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”
you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.
— and so the cup overflows.
“oh, go fuck yourself.”
it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.
but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything.
so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room.
you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.
it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.
satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.
a moment passes.
then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.
satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.
(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)
he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.
satoru sighs.
he really pissed you off, huh?
(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)
it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.
and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad.
he just wanted to make you laugh.
was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.
more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.
he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.
it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.
he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?
satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.
your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.
everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation.
you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all.
and it only increases your growing frustration.
you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.
a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.
you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.
because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.
he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.
but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.
it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.
a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.
every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.
so that’s exactly what you do.
before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.
(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)
the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.
an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.
for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude.
— it doesn’t last, though.
“you alone?”
a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.
hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over.
oh fuck no.
great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.
in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.
“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.
at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.
but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.
god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?
thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.
“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.
in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.
how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help.
and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.
satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception.
you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.
so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.
back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself.
he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up.
you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.
entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.
with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible.
this time, however, he does falter slightly.
he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?
satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.
(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)
“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”
you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.
you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.
“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”
there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.
something is wrong, his senses alert him.
“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”
the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”
“where are you?”
satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot.
he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.
“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”
you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”
satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”
you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.”
the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”
“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.
“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”
his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.
“can you tell me what you see, baby?”
“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?”
satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?”
you blink.
of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before?
“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”
following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.
satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”
you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.
“yeah,” you gulp.
satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”
focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point.
you swallow a shaky breath.
“thanks, toru.”
a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small.
this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him.
but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.
so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.
the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared.
but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.
“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.
a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.
“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”
“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”
it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side.
(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)
“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”
you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.”
and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.
because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you.
and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.
(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)
but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.
the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.
and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away.
as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.
especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.
your eyes meet his.
with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure.
an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps.
you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.
satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.
he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world.
and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.
satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.
finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.
the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.
all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.
”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”
the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.
you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.
and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.
the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.
satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.
then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.
and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.
the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer —
but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.
and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —
satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much.
and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.
(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)
— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more.
so he’ll focus on you, entirely.
he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings.
his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.
satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.
your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.
you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable.
you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.
satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?”
his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.
squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.
”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”
there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.
you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.
but you just can’t stop crying.
when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.
”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”
satoru stills.
then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head.
his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.
(“you’re not even listening.”)
yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.
an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something.
it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.
next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.
because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are.
if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.
satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”
a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.
“i’m sorry.”
you blink.
for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.
”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.”
he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.
“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath.
he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.
”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.”
you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece.
“so please don’t cry.”
this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours.
your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.
”okay?”
such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.
he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained.
(he was so, so worried.)
blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.
so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”
satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin.
but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed.
(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)
now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.
all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.
you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.
“sure you’re okay now, baby?”
you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”
“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn.
your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.
you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?”
“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”
satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering.
so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately.
when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute.
“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.
satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.
the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.
“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”
he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star.
“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”
satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”
his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”
the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.
but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.
all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.
“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”
satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”
your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.
“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”
satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”
“still,” you pout. satoru giggles.
“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”
you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”
satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.
“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”
this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.
a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.
satoru notices, and gets an idea.
“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?”
when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.
so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his.
”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”
satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting.
your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what.
you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.
”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”
there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.
satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that.
so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.
he’ll always be there when you need him.
#NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE i was having a gojo moment ok.#i just think hes. the perfect man. a silly goofy princess 98% of the time but when u need him to be there hes so comforting n secure.#i Need him.#also obsessed w the idea of gojo only calling u ’honey’ when hes being particularly sincere like that does smth to me man.#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo x reader
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