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arachine · 1 year

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You tried any dating apps?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right…”

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

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

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

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

about 8 years ago . . .

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”

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

“You still there?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kazuki: Hell yeah they are!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kazuki: It’s more than mutual.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in, hon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

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

“Wait, what?”

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

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

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

Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating.

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

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

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

“I don’t know…” you trail.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Those kids, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gojo.”

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

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

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

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

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

If I ever leave you, baby

You can say I told you so

And if I ever hurt you

You know, I hurt myself…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is that any way for a man to carry on

Do you think I want my loved one gone

Said I love you

More than you’ll ever know

“So funny,” you counter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just the way you want me to

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

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

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

To fall in love

To fall in love with you…

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

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

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

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

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

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

At a moment like this

But I’m going to learn how to do

All the things you want me to

Yes, I’m ready

(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready

To fall in love

To fall in love right now

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jump.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They suit you,” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, “mhm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.”

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

Soon, that silence is broken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit!”

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

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

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

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

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

comments + reblogs very appreciated !!!

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

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auroralwriting · 2 months

Text

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two here

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!

You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.

Something else you were known for? A hot temper.

Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.

Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.

Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!

You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"

"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."

"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.

Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"

"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."

Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."

You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.

It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"

"Salt, sugar." He teased.

Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."

"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"

Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."

Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.

You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"

After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."

Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?

"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.

"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.

Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."

You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.

"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.

"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."

Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.

"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.

"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.

Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."

"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.

"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."

Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."

Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."

"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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pucksandpower · 5 months

Text

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

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haetrack · 6 months

Text

[19:30]

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk

jaehyun feels a little crazy right now.

all you’re doing is sitting next to him, the both of you watching a movie that he wanted to watch. it was fine during the first half, but now he can’t stop thinking about fucking you, filling you up with all his cum.

he doesn't really know how it started, but every time he lets his mind wander, it always goes to the same place. he could have you begging for him, could see how his cum drips out of your pretty cunt. he just hasn't asked, not sure if you would even be okay with it.

so he's sitting here with you, not paying attention to the movie he wanted to watch, as he tries to fight himself from getting hard. maybe if he asks nicely, you'd open your legs for him, let him fit himself between you.

your yawn cuts off his thoughts, watches you crawl over to him, laying your head on his shoulder. his thoughts are paused for a second, realizes how cute you look when you're nicely snuggled against him. they come back when you press a kiss to his cheek.

he could ask to flip you over on this couch, fuck you from behind as he slides his cock into your dripping pussy. he won't do that though, it's late, you're tired, and he just can't ask that.

it's not until you throw a leg over his lap, your lips ghosting the skin on his neck that he realizes he can ask you.

he's quick to pull you on his lap, movie immediately forgotten as you kiss him. his hands glide down your back, moving to your ass as he makes your grind down on his cock. you feel so nice on top of him, your soft moans filling the room as you grind down on him.

you whine in protest as he lays you flat against the couch. he peels off your bottoms, pulls up your shirt just enough for your chest to be exposed. you can feel he's needier today, his hands rushing all over you as he takes off your shorts.

when you're left in just your panties, jaehyun rubs his thumb down your slit, letting out a small groan with how wet you are. he licks his lips, his thumb rubbing softly over your clit, "so needy... needed my help, didn't you?"

you nod, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as he slides your panties to the side. his eyes are stuck on your puffy folds and how wet you are as he watches you. he lets out a soft grunt as one of fingers slide into you, "you just want to be filled up... want your boyfriend to fill you up with his cock?"

you gasp out his name as his finger curls inside of you, hitting that spot inside you. he knows you too well, knows exactly what you want from him. he slides another finger in, watching how you squirm under him.

"j-jaehyun, need more. n-need you inside me, jaehyun!"

"yeah? my baby wants my cock?"

you let out a whimper at his words, jaehyun pulling down his sweats, his cock slapping against his stomach. he sits on his knees, lining yourself up at your entrance. he teases you a little, his tip dipping inside before pulling right back out.

you try not to be too demanding, but you can't help it when you need him so bad. he coos at the sight of your whining, finally easing himself into you. you can hear the low moan he lets out, watching as his cock enters inside you. his cheeks are hot, no doubt that they're red from how good you feel wrapped around him.

he has you right where he wants you, all pliant and needy for him to take. his hips push deep against you, his cock hitting every spot inside you. shocks shoot down your spine, your nails digging into jaehyun's back as you moan out for him to keep moving.

he sets a steady rhythm, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, almost drowning out your whimpers. he can feel how much you clench around him, your pussy practically begging to be filled up.

he can't help the thought of breeding you seep back in to his mind. it makes him fuck you faster, groans of your name escaping him as he tries to get you to cum. you look fucked out, all that your mind can think about is him, how good he makes you feel, how much you need him.

he wants to cum deep inside you, filling you all up. he wants to hold you down, breed your pretty pussy as you whine out to him. it’s almost instinct, his mind racing as he imagines fucking his cum back into you.

once he feels his orgasm building up, he doesn't bother hiding his thoughts anymore, he’s just as desperate as you are. "wanna fuck you full of my cum, wanna see you dripping."

your eyes shoot to his, shining at the thought, "y-yeah? you're gonna cum inside me?"

your words only spur him on, his cock fucking into you quickly. he has no control of himself right now, can only think about breeding you. all he wants to do is fuck you over and over, his cum filling you up every single time. you start to let out sobs, telling him that you're close to cumming.

"tell me how much you want me to fill you up and i'll let you cum. want to hear my baby- fuck, wanna hear you beg for it."

your voice is shaking when you speak, tears threatening to slip out from how good he's making you feel. "need- need you to cum inside me! wanna feel you dripping out of me!"

his hips stutter from your words, his body buzzing at the thought. his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, desperate to get you off. he wants you to cum, wants you to be satisfied and full after you cum. he wants to see it all.

"go ahead and show me then, cum all over my cock, pretty."

you moan out his name, your hips grinding up to his as you cum. he can feel how hard you clench around him, trying to milk him of all his cum. it doesn't take much for that to happen, your cries and cunt taking all that he has to offer.

his cum feels warm inside you, spurting out inside your walls. you keep crying out to him, saying how good it feels- how good he feels. he grinds his hips against yours, shoving his cum deep inside you. it takes a while for him to pull out, eyes zeroed in on where you both are connected.

he's still hard, watching your spent pussy clench around nothing. he slowly sees his cum drip out of you, pulling your cunt apart as more spills out. he puts his thumb at your entrance, swiping at the cum that's slid out, right back where he had it. you can see his cock twitch, begging for more.

he slowly slides your panties into place, closing up your legs to keep his cum into place. he whispers to himself, “so pretty and full of me…”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun x reader

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lewisvinga · 7 months

Text

forza madrid | carlos sainz x fem! bellingham! reader

summary;, when posting about being a ferrari fan gets y/n bellingham invited to a grand prix where she meets carlos who is shocked by her last name.

fc; tyla

warnings; cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1

notes; requested ! omg i love this sm, real madrid and f1 , ahhhhh, esp carlos and judeeee! and i decided to do a race instead bc of the spanish gp n stuff yk

masterlist !

ynbellingham uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; what i do while getting ready before someone’s… match, forza ferrari ! scuderiaferrari] [caption 2; i know you scored a golazo but put a damn shirt on judebellingham…..]

judebellingham replied to your story !

judebellingham but if i was one of your ferrari boys, you wouldn’t be complaining 🙄🙄🙄🙄

ynbellingham shut the fuck up you will never be carlos sainz.

judebellingham WOMP WOMP i’ll meet him before u #madridprivilege 🤪

ynbellingham yeah OKAY SURE we’ll see

liked by judebellingham, carlossainz55, and others !

ynbellingham: tysm scuderiaferrari for giving me the opportunity to go to the spanish grand prix! 🫶 it’s a dream come true to see a race in person and meet the amazing ferrari drivers 🥹 forza ferrari❤️

tagged; scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc

scuderiaferrari: we loved having the coolest bellingham in our garage !

ynbellingham: YOU HEAR THAT judebellingham jobebellingham ?

jobebellingham: u have admin at gun point stfu

scuderiaferrari: we ❤️ y/n too much sorry😅

judebellingham: so that’s why you didn’t come to your dear little brothers match this sunday 😒😒

ynbellingham: u scored womp womp, ferrari is cooler

judebellingham: wow…. WOWW… ok i see how it is

camavinga: that’s how it always is with you two🙄

username: the bellinghams are all fine asf what the fuck

username: Y/NNNN😍😍

username: omg carlos and charles 😣

vinijr: wow you didn’t take me🙄

ynbellingham: u had goals to score, vinicius.

username: the way she automatically got close w the squad bc of jude and how pretty she is is so funny

charles_leclerc: it was fun to have you visit ! liked by ynbellingham !

carlossainz55: wait, you’re a bellingham? like jude bellingham’s sister??? and no one told me?

ynbellingham: yes unfortunately i’m related to the tap in merchant

judebellingham: FUCK OFF how’d u meet an f1 driver before me

carlossainz55: ferrari admin said she’s the coolest 🥸

judebellingham: carlos sainz….. as a madridista ur supposed to like me more

ynbellingham: go away, pude pellingham

judebellingham: it was one penalty..

username: let carlos shoot his shot w her damn jude liked by carlossainz55 and ynbellingham !

ynbellingham uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; ❤️] [caption 2; red at the beach bc ferrari double podium today 😁]

carlossainz55 replied to your story !

carlossainz55 liking spain ?

ynbellingham is the carlos sainz of ferrari liking and replying to my stories ???🤭🤭🤭 give me a second to fangirl

ynbellingham but yes lol, i’ve been staying w my brother and it’s amazing, i prefer madrid though, i’😁

carlossainz55 madrid’s the best part of spain

ynbellingham says the madrid native

carlossainz55 and why do you prefer madrid ?

ynbellingham touché

ynbellingham my brother plays for real madrid and he’s bugging me to tell u he says hi🙄

carlossainz55 tell him i said hi and thank you for saving us 😁 he’s been amazing it’s crazy! the amount of times he has saved me from going crazy with his goals😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynbellingham literally how is my brother saving my sanity when he’s been making me lose it since the day he was born 😀😀

carlossainz55 quick question, have you been to best parts of madrid ?🤨

ynbellingham i go wherever jude goes who goes wherever cama, tchou, rodry, and vini go 😄

carlossainz55 noooo as a madrid native, i know the absolute best parts😌😌

carlossainz55 i’m going to madrid tonight for a few days

ynbellingham and you want to see me🧐

carlossainz55 can you blame me? you are the best bellingham

ynbellingham why thank u carlos

ynbellingham luckily for you, i’m free all week

carlossainz55 q bueno [excellent]

carlossainz55 i’ll see you again soon 😉 liked by ynbellingham !

ynbellingham uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; mornings in madrid ☀️] [caption 2; when bellingol buys u a dress to impress a man 🤎 thank u stupid judebellingham] [caption 3; ‘i’ll show you the best of madrid’…. makes us pasta… 😀😀 ( there were no open spots at the restaurant we were going to)]

judebellingham replied to your story !

judebellingham gross get a room

judebellingham i take it back, DONT GET A ROOM

ynbellingham ur a cock blocker btw

judebellingham Y/N????

carlossainz55 replied to your story !

story one

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍 [beautiful] liked by ynbellingham !

story two

carlossainz55 he has good taste 😉 liked by ynbellingham !

story three

carlossainz55 you liked my pasta !

ynbellingham it was delicious but i was looking forward to getting the best paella 😞

carlossainz55 are you busy tonight ?

ynbellingham are you asking me out 🧐

carlossainz55 you up for date 2 ?😁

ynbellingham give me the time and place 😌

carlossainz55 oh no, i’m picking you up, hermosa. at 5, i’ll make reservations

carlossainz55 you’ll get that paella , trust me liked by yourusername !

carlossainz55 uploaded to his story !

[caption 1; gracias judebellingham !🤍] [caption 2; ferrari red ❤️] [caption 3; the best paella in madrid!]

liked by carlossainz55, judebellingham, and others !

ynbellingham: my month so far; post ucl game win club fit , ferrari garage , taste testing his own lobster carbonara, wearing the dress my stupid brother got me, my stupid brother w my other stupid brother, carlos after i jokingly told him i was gonna turn into a culer

tagged; carlossainz55, judebellingham, jobebellingham

carlossainz55: hermosa😍

yourusername: and you’re guapo 🤭 [handsome]

carlossainz55: it was a pretty good carbonara though

ynbellingham: it was truly amazing

username: OMG??

username: carlos and y/n???

username: carlos already down bad for y/n iktr

username: her body teaaaa😩

username: she got a white man on her rosterrrr

username: AND he feeds her pasta & lobster 😫😫

judebellingham: u jokingly said what now…

carlossainz55: my exact reaction !

ynbellingham: u both are such drama queens I WAS JOKING

carlossainz55: amor, we never joke about liking the rivals.

vinijr: WOW y/n WOWW

camavinga: no me?

ynbellingham: next photo dump promise edu😢

jobebellingham: i don’t live in madrid and don’t see u often so that means jude is automatically the stupid one

ynbellingham: so true bestie so true

judebellingham: reminder that i buy you things all the time. BOTH OF YOU😒

username: bellingham’s and the sainz??? what in the multiverse

username: when i forza ferrari and hala madrid too hard they become forza madrid liked by ynbellingham and carlossainz55!

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #jude bellingham x reader

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satoruxx · 1 year

Text

[6:17 a.m.]

gojo satoru x reader

you’re pulled out of your dreamworld by long fingers at your forehead. they brush away a few flyaway strands of your hair before gently rubbing over your brow bone. when you attempt to peel your eyes open, you can already tell it’s too early.

it’s still dark, the sun not having graced your small room with its presence yet. but even through your sleepy gaze you can make out the brightness of satoru’s eyes. they’re uncharacteristically soft, crinkling a little as they notice you stirring from slumber. they narrow with amusement as you let out an irritated groan.

“satoru…it’s too early.”

you say his name with emphasis, and he chuckles quietly.

“i know i know. go back to sleep, pretty thing.”

your curiosity heightens, and you squint as you attempt to look at him. he looks like your boyfriend alright, with his snowy white hair, bright cerulean eyes, and lopsided smile. but he also looks familiar in a way that is oddly unfamiliar. the tight black shirt he has on accentuates his built physique, and the baggy pants tied loosely around his slim waist — it’s different.

for a second you think you see a faint scar running across his lips, but it’s gone in an instant. you’ll choose to blame it on your sleep addled brain.

“where are you going?” you mumble to him, reaching your hand out to take his own. his long fingers squeeze yours reassuringly.

“gotta go take care of something real quick.” he answers, the smile still present in his voice.

“always working.” you pout, pulling the blankets closer to your chin. “i only just got you back. you owe me for all that missed time, so don’t stay away for too long.”

satoru blinks, his smile gone before he reaches down and cups your face in his two large hands. he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before leaning further down and planting one on your lips. there is no barrier between the two of you - no infinity, and he relishes in it for a second longer.

“okay sweetheart, after i come back from this i’m all yours, yeah?” he sighs, smile reappearing like it never left, though this time it is much more subdued. his fingers tremble against your skin for a second, but then you laugh and he’s back to normal.

“good.” you grin, eyes fluttering shut again. “as it should be.”

the warmth of the cocoon you’ve made is all too inviting, and you don’t have anything against falling into it. the darkness of the room and the allure of the dreamworld you were in just a few minutes ago is all too powerful. you’re just about dozing off again when satoru speaks up once more.

“i love you, sweets.” he says. there’s an odd tone to his voice now, almost somber but not quite. you’re too absorbed in sleep to really notice, but you hear him, and an easy little smile graces your face.

“mmh, love you too, ‘toru. come home soon, okay?”

your words are squished into the pillow, and satoru only smiles down at you. once more he reaches down to drag his fingers over your cheek, before pulling away. he swallows thickly, before nodding his head.

“alright baby. i’ll come back to you soon. wait for me, yeah?”

a/n: bc after today, we all needed this....

5K notes · View notes

whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months

Text

Tide

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Frankie Morales is capable of almost anything... except not cumming in his jeans when he thinks about you, the pretty clerk at the grocery store he always buys his giant jugs of laundry detergent at. Warnings: Smut thoughts, Frankie's POV and internal monologue, premature ejaculation, so much cum talk, addiction recovery, laundry detergent, this is so ridiculous but I also tried to make it super sweet. Words: 1,200

A/N: I'd probably classify this as a crack fic... but with heart. This is SOOOOO indulgent and ridiculous. I don't know what @luxurychristmaspudding unlocked in me but this is what's released. I know this is my *4th* story in a week, but I couldn't help myself. Also, shout out to the JM Discord and all of the tenants who join in the luxuriousness of this level of depravity.

Masterlist

🚁👖🤍Frankie🤍👖🚁

It keeps happening to Frankie over and over and over again. Recovery has been a challenge, abstaining from all of his previous vices means he’s no longer numbing his mind… and body.

Nobody should ever cum during a prescription commercial and yet… he does. The swimsuit hugged the woman’s curves a little too close, plus she had the same color hair as you. His mind couldn’t help floating to thinking about you in a swimsuit.

Aye dios mio, get a hold of yourself man.

He’s too embarrassed to bring it up to his doctor. The notion of ever mentioning it to the Delta Force boys terrifies him, although he knows deep down they’d lend a sympathetic ear. They’ve killed, fought wars, and climbed out of the lowest points of their lives together… but the thought of letting his secret out? Awful. He shudders at the thought of telling his fellow Narcotics Anonymous attendees: “Hi, my name is Frankie, I’m an addict and I can’t stop cumming in my pants.”

He tries to think of the worst things, mental images that should scar even the scariest of humans, thoughts about death, rotting produce, weird looking insects, and yet, it still happens.

___

“Hi, how’d you find everything today?”

He blinks towards your tag though he’s already memorized your name, it repeats through his mind whenever he climaxes… he wonders to himself how your sweet voice would sound repeating his name.

Uh oh, quick, think of a bee sting, everyone’s going to die, burnt pizza.

He shakes his head, the thoughts of you wrapped around him flying out of his head with each subtle knock.

“Sir, are you okay?”

Fuuuuuuck, you really had to call me sir, didn’t you?

“Y-yeah, sorry, long day. My name’s Frankie by the way.”

Focus, don’t look at how her hand wraps around the shampoo bottle, soldier.

“Hi Frankie, nice to finally have a name to the face.”

Of course you say his name in the sweetest way. He presses his fingers into the flesh of his palm as hard as he can withstand, he prays you don’t see the way his nostrils flare.

Be strong.

He’s been captivated ever since he first saw you working in the mom and pop market across the street from his apartment. You’re always friendly and smiling, he swears he feels your eyes on him every time he leaves yet he’s too scared to look back and confirm for himself. He wishes he knew how to small talk and somehow step over the threshold of this case of shyness he has with you.

Why bother? I’ll just end up disappointing you, never leaving you fulfilled.

He’s so ashamed.

“That’s a big bottle of detergent, you must do a lot of laundry. You have kids?”

“I do… a four year old, but she lives with her mom,” he answers, lifting the giant jug into his cart, his cock twitches when he feels your eyes on his biceps.

Stay cool, you can do this, you’ve literally overcome worse… and cummed over less.

He wonders if you notice just how much laundry soap he buys… he’s confident that you have no clue you're the only reason why his washing machine is constantly working overtime.

“Oh, I love that age,” you mindlessly muse scanning a cereal box. “Is she as cute as her dad?”

His spine turns to jelly… he feels the phantom getting closer.

Trash compactors, mom and dad’s divorce, elephant seals.

“Everyone says she has my eyes.”

“Then she must be,” you wink.

Not a wink, not a wink, not a goddamn wiiiiink.

He quickly pulls his head down, sticking his card in the chip reader, resisting the urge to think of his now aching cock pushing into you.

STOP. STOP. STOP THINKING FRANKIE.

Focusing on the pin pad breaks his spiral. Relief spreads through his tense body knowing this run in will be over soon, he can go home in peace, his pants surviving this moment.

Your fingers brush against his hand when you hand him the receipt, his favorite part of buying groceries. He’ll stand in your checkout lane no matter the size of the line for the split second of skin to skin contact. It’s all he can afford to let himself have, any more would surely stain his jeans.

___

“Hey Frankie!”

He turns at your voice, his breath hitching when you walk over to him while removing your name tag.

“Want to go next door and grab a drink?”

“I’d love to… but I, uh,” he lifts his hat nervously tussling his hair, “I’m in recovery.”

“Oh,” your voice and face falter, “I’m sorry, um–”

Don’t let this moment pass, you can do it.

“I know a really good ice cream place, a few blocks down, I can meet you there?”

Ice cream means licking. Frankie, you're an idiot.

“Oh, um, that sounds amazing but I don’t drive.”

“I can take you… if you’d like.”

“Yeah?” your smile grows wider. “That sounds amazing.”

“I just need to drop these off, and then I’ll meet you outside in twenty?”

“Awesome!” You squeeze his hand wrapped around the cart handle. “I’ll see you soon.”

Your touch scorches his skin, he blinks watching your ass sway while walking through the doors to the backroom.

1-2-3, a gush of hot liquid releases against his jeans, his knuckles turn white as they clutch the cart handle.

Jesus Christ.

Frankie picks up his bags, holding them close to his crotch and leaves the grocery store. He better hurry. Thank god he just bought more detergent.

___

In hindsight, he’s thankful for his little grocery store indiscretion. He’s carefree and relaxed as he falls even harder for you over chocolate sundaes. You ask for extra rainbow sprinkles and laugh at all of his jokes.

This must be what it’s like to live normally.

___

“That’s me,” you point to a small bungalow unbuckling your seatbelt. “Thanks for the ice cream Frankie."

“This was really fun,” he turns towards you, shocked at how close you’re leaning towards him.

Kiss her. No, wait, don’t kiss her. Yeah, definitely don’t kiss her.

“It was,” you lick your lips and lean even closer.

He can smell you now, you smell divine. Like ice cream and floral perfume.

You place a soft kiss against his lips and pull away.

Frankie’s body tenses, a pathetic whimper escapes his mouth, he spurts against the cotton of his briefs. Doe eyes rounded with embarrassment stare at you.

“Sorry,” whispers out of his downturned lips.

“Oh,” your face fails at hiding a smile, “Frankie, it’s okay. Really.”

His head knocks against the headrest, face frozen in a grimace, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Frankie,” your hand clasps his chin forcing him to look at you. “Honestly, it’s okay. It’s actually… kinda hot.”

Right then and there he knows he’ll never shop at another grocery store again.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #crack fic #francisco morales #frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales

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hwaslayer · 2 months

Text

tease to please | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ tease to please - drabble two // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: there's only so much teasing yunho can take.

words: 3.1k

warnings: cussing/mature language, sexually implied content, phone seggs 😙, mutual masturbation, marking, some breast play, making out, sloppy kisses, oral (m. receiving), unprotected sex, we get a lil sprinkle of dom yunho, yunho pushes his cum back inside lol

"You'll be waiting at home for me, right?" Yunho asks huskily as he sits in his car, eating the last bits of his lunch.

"Mhm." You respond in a sing-song tone. "Why?" You tease, making Yunho chuckle.

"You know why, you 'lil brat. Don't be slick." You laugh loudly on the other line, putting a smile on Yunho's face hearing it echo in the car.

"Are you really eating in the car, Yuyu?"

"Yes." You laugh as soon as the response comes. "I'm not gonna sit in the lunch room with a fucking boner."

"Babe."

"Don't. You're such a tease." He whines. "First last night, then the picture? You're killing me." Yunho shifts in his seat when he remembers your phone session last night, the picture you sent him earlier. You had just hopped out of the shower, the mirror fogged up from the hot water. He could see your naked silhouette through it, the condensation dripping down the edges and exposing more of your beautiful body.

He was about to pass the fuck out.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

Yunho lays back while he presses the phone to his ear, settling into bed while listening to you get ready for bed on the other line. You've gone home for a few days to spend time with your mom and sister, Yunho being all alone in the apartment with Yeosang gone too. It's bad how much he misses you, but he truly adores the time you set aside for your mom and sister; enjoying your girls' days and self-care dates that you absolutely deserve.

"Sorry. I'm done now." You cozy up in your own sheets and shut off the lights, giving your boyfriend the utmost attention.

"All good, baby. Did you have a good day today?"

"Mmyeah. I can't wait to get back to you, though." He chuckles.

"I can't wait either."

"You're still alone?"

"Mhm. I don't think Yeosang is coming back until the weekend."

"Damn, okay."

"I think he's out of town with his family."

"I see." You stretch a bit. "Miss you, Yuyu."

"I miss you too, pretty girl. Cozy in bed?"

"Yeah. Wish you were here." Your mind starts to race and go into overdrive thinking about having Yunho next to you. Cuddling you. Showering you in kisses. Making out with you. Making love to you. You miss your man tons, and you can't wait to get all of that tomorrow. The need for Yunho is strong, and luckily for you, your boyfriend catches on quick. "I wanna cuddle."

"Well, good thing you come back to me tomorrow."

"You know what else I want?"

"Mm?" He hums.

"You."

"But, you have me." He smirks, biting onto his bottom lip when he knows where this is going.

"No, you know what I mean."

"I don't, baby. Enlighten me." He feels himself getting hard just thinking about you, his hand coming down to his dick— palming it slowly.

"Yunho." You whine. "Wish you were here with me." He lets out a shaky breath as he palms a little harder, hearing your whiny tone on the other line.

"So needy." He teases. "What do you want me to do to you?" You let out a small whimper hearing his deep voice on the other line, imagining your man kissing you in all the right places, holding you close, letting you lazily ride him cause he knows it's your favorite thing to do. Your hand comes down to the fabric of your panties, feeling the wet patch already building in the center.

"Mm." You hum in a certain tone before releasing a small breath, Yunho already shoving down his boxers just enough to freely stroke himself. "A lot of things."

"Like?" He keeps it slow at first. "Want me to be the one touching you instead?"

"Yeah. Not the same. You do it best, Yuyu."

"What else, princess? Tell me while you keep touching yourself."

"I wanna ride you so badly." Yunho shuts his eyes and picks up his pace, picturing you wrapped tightly around him, working your hips the way you do, hands traveling down his chest— the feeling is unmatched.

"Yeah? Like feeling stuffed that way?"

"It's so good." The way your voice drags on into a moan has Yunho swallowing the lump in his throat. Everything feels ten times hotter, his dick is painfully hard; he could explode any minute now.

"How many fingers are you using?"

"Two." You dip two digits in and out, spreading your wetness all over your folds. "If only you knew how wet I was." Yunho lets out a small groan in response, gripping his cock a little harder at how frustrating it is to not have you next to him right at this moment. He'll lose his mind.

He can't wait 'till he sees you tomorrow.

"All for me, right?"

"Mhm. All for you." A small whine slips from your lips, one that isn't too loud to be heard, but enough to keep Yunho spiraling.

"You're making me so fucking hard." You continue to rub at your clit, grinding against your hand until you feel your high approaching. You shut your eyes, now shifting your thoughts to having Yunho stuff your mouth, cock down your throat until he makes you cry.

"You know what else sounds good?"

"Hm?" He barely is able to respond, too focused on how good everything feels right now.

"You in my mouth."

"Oh my god."

"I'm close, Yuyu. Can you cum with me?" You ask him so sweetly, so innocently, even though everything about this situation is anything but.

"Yeah, anything you want, baby."

"Wish you could fill me up." You hear Yunho's breathing become irregular over the line, causing you to work at a faster pace until the coil within you finally snaps. You try to muffle your moans as much as possible as your body twitches under the sheets. Yunho follows shortly, spurts of cum painting his lower abdomen and hand as he tries his hardest to keep it contained. "Wow, holy shit."

"You okay? You did so good, love." He licks his lips and rests for a minute for analyzing the damage you've done. "Fuck, it's all over." You laugh. "I gotta go wash up."

"Hot."

"Baby, it's not funny." Yunho whines. "You're so mean. All you do is tease me, especially when I can't have you right away."

"Oh, you big baby. You'll see me tomorrow."

"Tease."

♣︎ END

"Sorry. I just wanted to shower you in some love." You giggle.

"Wait 'till I get home."

"And then.. what?" You bite onto your bottom lip, feeling your heat throb at the thought of Yunho ruining you.

"The things I'm gonna do to you." He takes a swig from his water bottle before capping it and placing it back into his cup holder. "Think you can behave for the next few hours until I'm off?"

"I dunno, I kinda don't want to." You poke fun at him and Yunho lets his tongue poke his cheek.

"Alright then. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"You're so hot, what did I do to deserve this?" He laughs.

"Talking about yourself, huh?" He looks at his watch. "I gotta go. I have like, 5 minutes to get my ass back upstairs."

"No one said you had to eat in the car, Yunho."

"You're right, sitting around the lunch table with my coworkers and my hard ass dick sounds so much better. How dare I?"

"Stop." You snort. "Mmkay, babe. I'll let you go."

"I'll see you when I get home, okay? Behave." He reiterates and you let out another tiny laugh.

"I will, god."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." And with that, the call with your boyfriend ends. You set your phone aside and finish packing before heading out the door for one last meal with your mom and sister. You all settle for some pho nearby, grabbing dessert and boba from the new small shop that opened next door. You grab some food and dessert for you and Yunho to munch on later after he gets home, your mom adding more to the snack rotation after handing you a big, brown bag full of different snacks she had bought for you two to try.

Your drive back to the apartment isn't long, being that you left right before the rush hour could hit. Soobin is the only one at the apartment, and that's because he picked up a summer internship nearby. He helps you haul in your bags, laughing at all the snacks your mom gave you. He sits on your desk chair as you hand him a few snacks from the bag while unpacking and catching up with him about his internship. Overall, he doesn't have any complaints and seems to be happy he stayed over the summer to put more experience on his resumé. You promise him you'll hang out with him tomorrow once he's off, patting his head as you grab your necessities and head out the door to Yunho's apartment.

You pull out the extra key you have and unlock the door, instantly smelling Yunho's cologne [with a mix of his laundry detergent] filling the air. You pop off your Crocs and set them aside before popping in the food into the fridge, setting the snacks aside in his pantry. You make sure to leave some on Yeosang's desk too, knowing he's always down to try something new. You set your things on the edge of his desk before washing up, changing and slipping into one of Yunho's shirts— snuggling under his covers while you rewatch episodes of your comfort show, Friends.

Time seems to slip right on by [though half painfully] because before you know it, it's time for Yunho to head home. And sure enough, the moment Yunho clocks out, he's darting out the door and rushing home. He's been thinking about you all day, barely able to focus on his to-do list at work. All he can think about is you, that nude, the way you whined his name last night.

The way he's going to fuck you so good the moment he steps into his room.

"Yuyu?" He hears you call for him as soon as he slips through the door and kicks his shoes off. He walks into the room with a little pep in his step, dropping his bag to the floor before shedding off his jacket and heading over to you. "Babe!" You squeal when he completely hovers over you and instantly presses his lips to yours. He fumbles around until he finds your phone and tosses it safely to the side, smiling into the kiss when he hears you giggle and squeal more while shifting you onto his lap.

"Take this off." He says, taking his shirt off of your body with a quickness. His eyes widen when he sees you aren't wearing anything underneath— you and your natural beauty served on gold platter just for him. "Fuck. I told you to behave." He groans against your neck, devouring every inch of you as his tongue roams the surface; leaving light marks in between messy wet kisses.

"I didn't even do anything—" You mewl as you tilt your head back in pleasure.

"Mm baby, I think you knew what you were doing when you slipped on my shirt without anything else on." He flings off his shirt and starts unbuttoning his jeans, slipping it down with his boxers and kicking them off completely. "Gonna ride me just like you wanted?" Your mouth waters watching Yunho's large hand wrap around his length, stroking himself for good measure.

"If you want me to."

"I do. Use it."

"Can I?" You hop off and get on your knees. "Want you in my mouth first." He groans.

"God." He breathes out as he watches you through hooded lids. You prettily wrap your lips around his tip and give it a cute kiss before continuing your tease session. You press tiny kisses along his length before licking a stripe from the base and back upwards, taking his tip into your mouth. You start to stroke him at the same time, sinking your mouth deeper and deeper down his cock; repeating the motions to keep your man feeling good. "Oh— shit." Yunho's head kicks back while a strangled moan leaves his lips, fingers tangled in the strands of your hair. "That feels so good." He says lowly, eyes now trained back on you. "Think you can take all of it, love? No pressure." He says sweetly, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. You nod, eyes looking up at him so innocently while he starts to guide you all the way down— his dick slowly hitting the back of your throat. He feels you gag, your hands squeezing at his thigh even though you continue to take him. "You okay?" You give him a reassuring look, keeping your position with him down your throat while he brushes your hair back. "Doing so well, baby." He coos. When you finally pull back, Yunho watches the string of saliva connect your bottom lip to his tip and he feels the urge to be inside of you with how fucked out you look already. As much as he wants to keep you here forever, he just needs you. "So perfect." He caresses your cheek. "Need to be inside of you. Now, please."

You quietly oblige and take your position back onto his lap, feet planted on either side of him while Yunho guides you down his cock. You glide down smoothly, your saliva coating the surface so messily; the noise it makes sounding like pure music to his ears.

"Yunho."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Feels so good already." You mumble against his lips as you work your hips back and forth.

"You have me so use me." He grips your hips tightly, your arms lazily wrapped around his neck. He presses feathery kisses to your chest, down to your breasts— popping in a nipple and swirling his tongue around the perked bud before moving onto the next. He sucks dark red marks onto the surface knowing it's safe, and that he's the only one who'd see them. You switch it up from time to time, bouncing up and down before rolling your hips at a quicker pace. Either way, his cock hits you in the right spot deliciously every single time— snug in between your walls and filling you up completely.

"Babe." You whine with a small pout. "Close." You breathe against him, Yunho locking you into a kiss in between.

"Keep going. You ride me so fucking well. Nothing comes close." He praises in your ear. "Made for me— you were made just for me." He repeats. "Look at me, pretty. Wanna see you cum all over this dick." He grips your jaw with just enough force to keep you right where he wants you, maintaining eye contact as you fuck yourself on him and continuously push yourself closer and closer to the edge. He hisses when he feels you work him faster, the squelching sounds from your wet pussy filling the room and driving him crazy.

"Yunho— mm'gonna cum." You whimper as you feel your legs starting to give out, chest heaving, breathing becoming irregular as you feel the pleasure building right at your core.

"Don't hold back. No one's home." His thumb glides along your bottom lip. Sooner or later, you sink and crash down, loud moans erupting as your walls pulse around him. "Fuck— that's it." He watches as your eyes shut tightly, mouth slacked open as your body moves in waves; letting your orgasm wash through. "Good girl." He praises you as you pant in his arms, trying your best to bring yourself back down from your high. "Turn around for me." He gently sets you on your fours, running his tongue down his hand before coming to your overly-sensitive pussy. You almost flinch at the contact, but don't have a second to process when Yunho's already plunging deep inside of you. He lets out a loud, guttural moan, squeezing your ass as he adjusts to the feeling. His hand travels down your back while he slowly thrusts in and out of you;

In and out.

Push and pull.

You let out desperate, repeated curses, mixed along with a string of Yunho's name while he pounds into you, cheek pressed down onto the pillow before you feel him tug you back. You can tell Yunho is holding on for dear life, waiting for that perfect moment to let loose and let himself go.

"Come here." He lets out, pressing your body flush against him while his hand is around your neck. He dips his head forward to get a better look at you from the side, still fucking into you like the world is set to end tomorrow. "What happened to my needy little brat from last night?" He chuckles, watching as your face contorts in pleasure again. "See what happens?" He pounds into you harder, cheeks turning red from the impact.

"Yeah, and I might keep doing it just to test you." Yunho smiles hearing your response, so incredibly in love with the way your relationship is. Just radiating comfort, a safe space. Two people exploring new territories together and being utterly, sickeningly in love.

"Fuck, I love you—" He continues and continues until he feels like he can't hold it in anymore, giving your neck a slight squeeze when he feels himself reaching his own high. "Gonna cum—"

"I love you too." You cry. "Need you to fill me up, Yunho. Please." You beg, and that's enough to make him snap. You both fill the room with loud moans, Yunho coming down onto your body as he spills into you. He lays soft, lazy kisses against your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you while he keeps himself inside.

"I missed you." He smiles against your sticky skin, the both of you sweaty; air in the room hot and filled with the scent of sex. "Dunno what I'd do without you."

"I missed you too, babe." He pulls out and watches his cum leak out, laughing when he takes his thumb and pushes it back in. "Yunho, you're so?!"

"Nothing gets left behind." He steps off the bed and holds his hand out. "Let's go take a shower? I'll wash the sheets after."

"Mmkay." He looks down at you and presses a kiss to your lips.

"So, did you mean it when you said you'd keep being a brat?"

"It's fun poking your buttons, Yuyu." You let out a squeal when you he smacks your ass, taking the lead to the bathroom before Yunho can even catch up.

"You play too much." He says when he hears you shut the bathroom door and leave him naked in the hallway. "Baby, open up, Yeosang can come home any minute now!" He laughs when he hears you loudly giggle, still keeping the door locked. "I'm not laughing cause you're funny or anything, I just— Y/N, please." He begs playfully. "I'm sorry, you are funny. I didn't mean that. I'm starting to get cold out here. I'll shrivel up and die out here, do you want that? Y/N!" He continues to fiddle with the doorknob until you finally let him in with a big laugh and take him into the shower with you.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk

#yunho fanfic #yunho series #jeong yunho series #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez imagines #kpop imagines #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #hwaslayer: project make you love me

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hellsslibrary · 2 months

Note

For an obey me request can I have some pillow princess belphie? Ik he wouldn’t do any work when having sex lol. Dom top male reader pls!

"Shh, baby, you don't have to... Or I'm joking, mmm?"

#a.n. : The internship at the university is over, so... :)

!!Warnings : top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Belphie, A HUGE amount of teasing (the whole sex is based on their idea), praise kink, complaints from Belphie, but they are playful, raw penetration, open ending, mostly focused on foreplay (because I love foreplay too much, yeah), Belphie in demonic form and... Weird use of his tail (nothing nasty or scary though, it's funny), handjob, fingering, the reader is the MC, it is implied that the reader is larger than Belphie.

"Belphie... Don't be so grumpy. It'll be fine anyway. You don't have to try, I'll do all the work... Please?" You ask for probably the hundredth time and Belphegor just sighs, but otherwise doesn't move, lying too comfortably right now.

You've been trying to convince him to have sex for the last fifteen minutes, but he told you that he was more lazy than usual today. And he just didn't want to even move, but your words kept creeping further and further under the cortex of his brain, wanting to agree, despite his laziness. After all, how could he refuse his favorite and only human?

"Well, if you say you'll do all the work, MC, then fine..." He mumbles, lazily rolling over onto his back, getting comfortable, fidgeting for about half a minute, and then just freezing.

"Thank you, thank you! You really don't have to do anything!... Or maybe I'm kidding," You let out a chuckle, which is quickly silenced when Belphegor's tail wraps around your head, covering your mouth, but then drops back down.

"You do all the work," He mumbles, letting his legs fall to the sides and looking at you silently, waiting.

And of course, you don't keep him waiting. Your hands move down to his black sweatpants, slipping your hand under the waistband and pushing them down far too slowly for Belphegor's liking.

"You said you'd be quick... I'm sleepy," He complains, lightly slapping your knee with the tip of his tail, but otherwise doesn't complain, remaining slightly embarrassed by how the tent in his underwear has become much more visible.

"Who's keeping you awake? You can fall asleep just fine. You've fallen asleep just fine the last few times."

The demon just sighs, closing his eyes, letting out a ragged breath as you squeeze his cock through his underwear. His slender hips twitch, wanting more contact, wanting relief. And he whines as your fingers hook into the elastic again, this time on his underwear, pulling it down.

Your hand wraps around his cock, taking up the part from the base to the part below the head. A whimper escapes the brunette's lips as your thumb runs along his slit, lubricating the precum from there onto some part of his cock, making your movements a little easier.

His cock stands tall and proud, twitching at your direct gaze directed at it. The head is already dripping with precum, which is a little premature considering you've done literally nothing. But hey, who's complaining?

"Well? Are you going to make me cum or something?" He asks slightly annoyed, trying to spank your knee with his tail again, but you hold it in your free hand, watching as his cock hardens even more.

"Maybe I tricked you and you'll have to push into my hand. What do you say then?" You answer with obvious mockery, not paying attention to how his tail continues to spank your wrist more than once, and Belphegor's eyes literally began to glow.

"MC..." He drawls in an unreadable tone, although from his face it is clear that it is more of a plea.

His eyebrows are arched in such a manner as if he is about to cry; crystal tears will flow from his eyes, pouring down his cheeks red from excitement and embarrassment, falling down onto his still untouched neck. His pupils are dilated, his irises glow a pleasant purple hue, crystal drops glitter on his long eyelashes. His lips, which are slightly bitten and plump from this, twitch and shine with moisture; they are slightly open from the heavy breathing of their owner from the sensations that he is going through.

And oh God, he looks simply inimitable and so beautiful that you can’t continue teasing him (he is a small manipulator, he-he). Your palm slightly squeezes on his shaft and you begin to move your hand in a slightly faster, rhythmic tempo, which makes his back arch incredibly.

You can’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathe in his scent, feel his clearly accelerated pulse under your lips. A groan escapes his lips as he feels you bite that spot, and then your lips suck on it, leaving a mark that will turn into a bright purple hickey later.

"M-MC... I can't cum like this, please..." He practically chirps, grabbing your shoulder, pulling his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"Shh, you're doing great, dear. You can cum for me like this, right? Come on, try... I'll make it a hundred times better for you later," You whisper, moving your lips higher, kissing the patch of skin behind his ear, making him shudder.

Your hoarse whisper, your hand on his hot cock, your scent so close, your gaze only on him... And as soon as he feels his precum start to flow down, over his balls, and even lower, he cums. Not even trying to hide a single sound, too focused on one single task. He is feeling good. And it's your fault.

"Well done, I'm so proud of you... You came so fast and so much, it's amazing for you," You coos soothingly, kissing his cheeks and brushing the hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, revealing his face in full.

"Fingering?" You ask, looking down at your hand, pulling it away from his cock, wiping his cum onto the sheets that would be ruined even more later.

He nods silently, probably unable to even attempt to say anything coherent right now, so you simply spread his legs further, reaching for the packet of lube in your pants pocket.

"Are you sure you're ready? I can wait a bit," You ask again, earning the inevitable kick to the knee from his tail, and he just shakes his head.

"I'm a demon, I'm not even overstimulated... yet," Belphegor mumbles, barely managing to form anything normal, and only spreading his legs wider.

You rip the packet apart with your teeth, pouring the contents onto your fingers and then sliding both fingers in at once, which he accepts with absolutely no problem.

"I didn't bring a condom, by the way..." He just waves your words away, already holding his eyes closed, while fat tears form in the corners of his eyes, which you kiss to keep them from rolling down.

He wraps his legs around your waist lazily, causing you to even hold one of his thighs... This brat, ugh. Your fingers slide in and out of his velvet walls, which wrap around your fingers, not wanting to let you go. Obviously desperate whines escape his lips as you purposely hit his prostate every time.

"Just fuck me already... Or I'll ban you from sex for a month."

You just blink like an owl at this threat. Obviously not real, though. But you still comply, pulling your own pants down with your clean hand and sighing in relief when your cock is finally out.

Your dirty hand coats your cock in the remnants of lube and you grab his hips, inhaling and lining up your tip with his entrance. You both moan at the same time as you slowly begin to push in until you bottom out inside him.

"I wasn't kidding about banning it."

You hold still, giving him time to adjust, and yourself too, to be honest. You feel like you're about to cum just from the look on his face, you exhale and he opens his eyes.

He tightens around you, making you hiss and start thrusting into him, causing him to fall back against the pillows in relief, grabbing the sheets underneath them. And you just realize that no matter how much he insists on 'faster', you're not leaving here until at least half of his stamina is gone... Oh well, here we fo again.

#seme male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #a!writes.#sub character #obey me x reader #obey me smut #sub obey me #obey me x male reader #obey me #sub belphegor #belphegor x male reader #belphegor smut #belphegor x reader

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withlovemark · 3 months

Text

all of the moments that led me to you. (ii)

warning(s): steve's black eye (again), mentions of: gun, car crash, death.

pairing: steve x reader

words: 6.3k+

summary: a continuation of moments with steve harrington. takes place in season three.

an: first, thank u so so much for over 1k hearts on aotm pt 1 and to be loved. it’s unbelievable to me that that many people have read my writing. i’ve been writing and posting my stories on here a long time and this helps me feel like i’ve been growing, even just a little 🥹

second, i'm so sorry this took so long. i have no other excuse except the devil himself - mr. writer's block. thank whoever the hell is controlling my sim that they got rid of him (at least for now) and now i'm finally here to share this with you

hope you like it <3

yr. 1984

yr. 1985

i. robin’s game of you rule/you suck, intercepting russians and suzie

quickly walking into scoops ahoy, you finally catch up to the curly headed kid, just in time to witness your favorite boys reunite through a silly greeting.

you let them have their moment before finally making your presence known, “hey there sailor,” you greet steve with a quick hug, his frame enveloping you.

he whines at the nickname, knowing how much you enjoy the little blue sailor outfit on him, mind wandering back to when you first saw him in the get up.

“oh. my. god,” you gasp, a hand to your mouth, trying to hold your laughter in as he makes his way back into his room, after finally successfully putting on his “uniform.”

“don’t say a word,” he warned, hands on his hips.

“steve harrington. you are sooo…” he raises his eyebrows, lips morphing into a thin line, daring you to finish your sentence.

“…pretty,” you giggle, closing the distance to adjust the sailor tie around his neck. he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat, maybe two.

“it's not TOO bad, girls LOVE a man in uniform,” you tease, sitting back down on the edge of his bed.

a playful smirk on your lips as his sailor hat comes in contact with your face in a matter of seconds causing a bubble of laughter to ring in his ear.

a sound that has grew to be his favorite.

“sorry we came unannounced,” your voice brings him back to the ice cream parlor.

“he got home from summer camp today,” you explain, motioning to dustin who was now seated calmly in a booth, “and immediately asked me to drive him here so he could see you,” you grin, steve returning the expression.

“i think you’re his favorite,” a pout grows on your lips, eliciting laughter from the boy who you now call your best friend. the two of you being glued to the hip since that night in 1984.

days with steve harrington included sneaking into movies, butter popcorn in hand; road trips to nowhere and everywhere all at the same time; late night conversations that lasted into the a.m., a judgment free zone.

“well, yeah, i think we’ve known that a while ago,” he teases, earning a playful shove from you.

“it’s ok though, i missed that little bugger too and there’s a new ice cream flavor i want you to try,” steve molds his hand into yours as he hurriedly leads you in front of the counter. the warmth of his hand disappearing as he made his way behind it.

you greet robin a quick hello and she acknowledges your presence by playfully saluting, making you smile.

“here, try it,” steve snaps your attention back to him, placing what seemed to be a cup of just plain old vanilla ice cream in front of you. upon further inspection you notice it has chunks of something in it.

“i don’t think ice cream should have that?,” you comment, eyeing it suspiciously.

“just try it!,” he says, nudging the ice cream closer to your face.

“alright, alright!,” you giggle, finally bringing the spoon between your lips. steve awaits your verdict, slightly bouncing up and down in excitement, eyebrows dancing.

“oh…wow,” your eyes widened, sparkling. tastebuds exploding at their new discovery.

he knew you’d like it.

“are those cookies?” you wonder aloud.

“mhmm, brand new flavor, cookies and cream, who would’ve thought huh?,” playfully raising his eyebrows as he stole the spoon from you, taking a bite out of your ice cream.

“how are things with laura?,” you bring up nonchalantly, stealing the spoon back from him.

“ugh, don’t even bring her up,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing another spoon from behind the counter while the two of you mildly attack the sweet cup.

“another bad date?,” you concluded, eyes focused on scooping up a spoonful of your newfound favorite ice cream flavor.

“we had absolutely nothing to talk about! i swear we just sat there and ate in silence the whole time,” he dramatically testified, shrugging his shoulders.

“was the sex good at least?,” you asked, his face cringing.

“didn’t have sex with her,” he shrugged, “i just went home after and crashed, i think i really am losing my game,” he jokes.

you know him well enough to know that he hasn’t been feeling as confident as he used to be. you think back to the night when steve confessed to you that he wasn’t able to get into the only college he applied to. on top of that, his dad cut half off his allowance and he’s now, as he would describe it, “stuck working at a job that pays $3 per hour.”

all in all, steve felt like he had hit rock bottom.

“how about you? how are things with isaac?,” steve smirked, changing the topic before you got to ask him if he was ok.

“eh,” you replied.

“ehhh?.” he mimics, urging you to go on.

“not gonna go anywhere, very cocky, talks too much…and he’s a lot better when he doesn’t speak,” you cringed, remembering the way the boy spoke about basketball and cars the whole time, not at all caring about any of your interests.

“maybe we should’ve switched dates?,” steve teases, head tilted.

you tuck away his golden locks that had fallen out of place and he finds himself holding a breath, eyes focused on your movements.

an action that was so familiar to him yet, lately, has been bringing up a weird feeling that he chooses to ignore.

“maybe we should have,” you playfully agreed, slowly retracting your hand, snapping steve back to reality.

“anyways, thank you for my new favorite ice cream flavor,” you approved of the cookies and cream.

“now, i have a favor to ask,” you grinned sheepishly.

“hm?” he hums, grabbing a napkin and wiping away the bits of ice cream that have stained your lips.

“can you watch dustin for the rest of the week? i have a bunch of cheerleading practices,” you explain, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, voice going a tad bit higher than usual.

“yeah, yeah, you don’t have to do that,” he shakes his head, smile on his lips, “i got it all handled here, go ahead and just leave me with the lil monster,” he teases dramatically, making you roll your eyes playfully before beaming at him.

“thank you, you’re the best!” you praised, lips planting a soft kiss upon his crimson cheeks, expressing your gratitude.

he ignores the way time slowed down for a second, that fleeting surge of electricity that danced within him, igniting a spark that he quickly brushes off.

“i know,” he winks as you swiftly turn around, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the ice cream parlor.

“stay safe!,” he shouts at your retreating figure.

“yes, dad!,” you tease, his face morphing into disgust. your laughter rings in his ears as you exit scoops ahoy right after lovingly messing up dustin’s pretty curls, an annoyed groan coming from the younger boy.

“i can’t believe it, harrington,” the sound of robin’s voice captures steve’s full attention, taking his eyes off of your retreating figure.

giving his coworker a pointed look, steve cluelessly wonders what she’s about to say when she pulled out her whiteboard and finally drew one tally mark under ‘you rule’

he rolls his eyes at robin, like he couldn’t believe what she just did, “hate to break it to you but i wasn’t flirting with her,” he defended himself.

“huh, you sure about that, loverboy?,” robin snickered, clearly not convinced with the golden boy’s answer.

“yes buckley, i’m sure,” steve deadpanned, “she’s my best friend alright so just…just erase that,” he mumbled, not entirely sure he believes his own words.

it’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before…he has.

but falling for someone is never a good idea. he has firsthand experience that investing in love can be dangerous and if his worst fears happen, if the love unravels and crumbles down, he knows all too well that you will never get that same person back.

and falling for his best friend? it’s not a risk he’s willing to take.

he repeats to himself, ‘he must not have feelings for you. he simply doesn’t.’ these words continue to echo, living in his mind, until he believes them as truth.

“well i think she could be your suzie,” dustin pipes in, quickly introducing himself to robin.

“m-my what?,” steve inquired, the famous hand on his hip stance appearing.

“your. suzie.” dustin pronounced slowly like that was going to help steve understand what he was talking about, “like how i have my suzie,” he adds.

“and what the hell is a suzie?,” the older boy scoffed.

“my girlfriend,” steve’s eyes widened at the boy’s proclamation, refusing to believe what he just heard. there’s no way dustin henderson has it all figured out before him, especially in the ladies department.

“it’s not important right now,” dustin says, shaking his head, “i need to talk to you,” he says urgently.

“we’re talking right now,” steve points out the obvious.

“no,” dustin glares, “just you,” he continues, eyes glancing towards robin who just shrugged, not caring, as the two boy’s made their way back to dustin’s booth.

“i intercepted a secret russian communication,” he confessed to the older boy.

believe it or not, those words were music to steve’s ears.

‘finally, he’ll be of use again,’ he thinks to himself as they start decoding the russian’s riddles.

3 days later

the boys have vanished without a trace.

normally, steve would swing by after work, or when he was off – which you knew he was supposed to be, considering he gave you a copy of his schedule, – he would pick you up from cheerleading practices.

dustin was also nowhere to be seen and the uncertainty of their whereabouts fills you with growing concern.

there were no knocks at your window at midnight. no sound of an engine revving or the horn honking to greet you in the morning. not even the static sound from dustin’s talkie had made its appearance.

the last you heard from them was at the ice cream parlor. so after today’s practice, you were on a mission.

you rush to the mall, hoping to see both of them devouring ice cream, ready to hear their half-ass apologies on why they went radio silent only to be face to face with two unfamiliar employees behind the counter, robin also absent from the scene.

quickly, you drove to steve’s house, the maroon vehicle nowhere to be seen causing you to reroute your drive to dustin’s house - still nothing.

this puts an end to your speculations – the boys are in trouble.

and they left you here with nothing but silence and the fear that’s rising in the pit of your stomach.

you think back to where the kids usually were this summer and found yourself running down the wheelers’ basement, after mr. wheeler kindly let you in, only to reveal everyone else was already there…except for your two main culprits.

seven heads turn towards you, your entrance hushing their conversations, “have any of you seen steve and dustin?,” you ask as they all shake their head no.

“well,” max spoke up, hope glimmering in your eyes, “el and i saw him at the mall,” she revealed.

“when was that?,” you inquire.

“like, 2 days ago,” she quickly replies, making you groan in exasperation.

“hey,” nancy snaps you out of your despair, “they’ll be okay, it’s steve and dustin, they’re just probably out doing something ridiculous,” offering a smile, failing to comfort you.

bless her but the only thing you could think about was how the last time those two did something “ridiculous,” they almost died, making you sink deeper into concern.

“yeah, steve’s probably just helping him talk to his imaginary girlfriend,” mike chimes in as you remember the girl dustin briefly told you about when you drove him to starcourt mall.

‘that was plausible,’ you convince yourself, finally nodding and accepting their assumptions.

“we have bigger things to worry about,” jonathan said, directing the group’s attention back to their previous topic as they fill you in on the mind flayer — a mrs. driscoll, a tom and bruce, and a billy hargrove acting as its host.

you just hoped to god that steve and dustin really are just looking for suzie because if they were in any kind of danger, you might kill them yourself.

for now, you’d just have to play on this team.

ii. starcourt mall and the TODFTHR

starcourt mall in its after hours has a tauntingly beautiful presence, its hallways bathed in the soft glow of neon lights that crackle with static, creating an ambiance that breathes an almost palpable energy, as if the very essence of the mall comes alive in the quietude of the night.

dustin finally radioed in a while ago with another code red, making goosebumps rise throughout your body. “code red” was definitely the last thing you wanted to hear.

all the group could make out from him were the words, “open the gate,” and you knew this was all connected to everything you’ve seen in the past couple of hours.

“where the hell is he?,” mike whispers as max shushes him and you silently thank her in your head.

the group is extra attentive, everyone looking around in hopes they’ll find something out of place.

finally, a faint click reaches your ears, followed by hushed footsteps. you think you’ve imagined it until nancy voices your suspicions, “what was that?,” she whispers. you feel the blood draining from your face, heart racing, afraid of the events that could transpire.

following the sound, the group ends up at the second floor — right above the food court.

you spot the four men first, each one of them with their arms raised, gun aiming at a food stall.

eleven immediately steps in making the car alarm go off then proceeding to throw it at the armed men. she leaves you stunned and amazed, like she's been doing the whole day, and you can’t help but send her a smile of gratitude.

after a second or two, the two familiar heads finally emerged, eyes finding the golden ones you’ve grown accustomed to, all beaten up and bruised.

rushing towards them, you pull dustin into a tight hug first, exclaiming “where the hell have you been?….i’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“i’m okay, i’m okay! i promise! im sorry,” he apologizes as you quickly look him up and down, your protective side kicking in, checking for any signs of injury until he finally slipped from your hold, reuniting with his friends. forcing you to look up at the beaten up, beautiful boy in front of you.

“steve-,” you whisper, before running up to him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. the beating of his heart against your ears, and in that moment, you feel like you can breathe again.

he holds you just as tight, visibly relieved that you’re unharmed. as he exhales a sigh of relief, you pull away slightly, inspecting the mark around his eye. soft hands ghosting over the bruise that was already starting to turn purple.

“didn’t i tell you to stop getting into fights?,” voice laced with concern as you fought to hold back tears, overwhelmed by the rush of comfort having him by your side brings.

“i know it doesn’t look like it, but i actually won,” he smiled, tenderly brushing away the tears in the corner of your eye before they could spill.

“what happened?,” you asked.

a light cough from behind him breaks you out of your embrace, slightly pushing the boy away from you and finally taking in robin’s presence.

their matching appearance doesn’t go unnoticed.

“we found a secret lair, got drugged by russians and then they beat up pretty boy over here for some answers,” they share a smile.

for a second, you feel your heart twinge. you’re not too sure whether it’s because the information robin shared painted a disturbing image in your mind or if it was because she was there and you weren’t.

you can’t allow yourself to dwell on it as the group finally reunites, connecting all the pieces together and figuring out the next step.

—

“oh screw tod, steve’s her daddy now,” steve says excitedly, as he got into the driver seat of the TODFTHER.

robin and erica comment on his use of referencing himself in the third person and the word “daddy,” causing you to laugh as you sat in the passenger seat. robin, erica and dustin squeezing in the back.

driving off with the scoops troops, you make your way to dustin’s tower.

“suzie must be pretty special, huh? for you to make this tower just for her,” you finally get a chance to interrogate the young boy, earning an excited nod from him and a groan from everyone else, making you feel like an outsider in their very obvious inside joke.

“he described her as scientifically perfect and has yet to shut up about her,” robin fills you in, obviously tired of the topic at hand.

“i mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect but suzie’s about as close to being perfect as any human could possibly be,” dustin added, causing more annoyed groans to slip from everyone’s lips except yours.

“she sounds made up to me. she sound made up to you?,” erica sassed back, resulting in an eye roll from the young boy.

“steve, y/n, you believe me right?,” he says, sitting forward, glancing between you and steve.

“of course,” you quickly assured him while steve remained silent, before finally nodding his head along with you.

“you hesitated,” dustin points out, a pout on his lip, “why did you hesitate, steve?”

“i didn’t hesitate!” he defends himself, his voice reaching a higher pitch.

the older boy turned towards you, asking for your help but all you could offer him was a shrug, a smile playing on your lips.

dustin impatiently repeats his question, finally getting his answer, “i don’t know man, no one is hotter than phoebe cates!,” steve bursts, earning a look of confusion from you and a whine from the younger boy, giggles bursting from the two girls sitting in the back.

you definitely missed out on a lot. and you realize how much you hate it.

“left. turn left.” dustin said suddenly, prying you away from your thoughts.

“there’s not a road here,” steve points out the obvious.

“turn left! now!” the younger boy yells urgently.

“jesus! hang on!” steve yelled before finally making a harsh left, your hands immediately going up your face, acting as a shield against the tree branches coming in contact with the vehicle.

“oh my god, where the hell are we going!?.” you shout through all the ruckus.

“just keep going!,” dustin continues with his unreasonable directions.

“we’re not gonna make it!,” robin yells from the back and you see determination flash in steve’s face.

“yes we are!, come on baby!” he urges TODFTHER to go on until it finally hit its’ limit, leaving the group stuck in the middle of the woods.

“guess, we’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” dustin says.

“how far is this thing?” erica says, voicing everyone’s annoyance.

iii. dustin’s tower and an epiphany

it wasn't long until the group finally made it to dustin’s radio tower, finally being able to instruct murray’s next steps.

you were seated on the field with the rest – the calmness before the storm.

“hey, guys?” steve’s voice causes the group to get up and follow his line of vision.

starcourt mall’s rapid flickering lights causing panic to rise in the air, dustin immediately runs back to his talkie, trying to radio the others but all that was received was a loud, screeching, monster noise. the younger boy repeatedly tries to get a response but all that was left was static.

steve makes up his mind, immediately getting up on his feet, ready to run towards the direction of the mall, but before he could get any further, your voice makes its way to his ears, halting his movements.

“where the hell are you going?,” you shot, panic evident in your voice.

“to get them the hell outta there!,” he exclaimed, adrenaline running through him. you knew you weren’t going to be able to persuade him to stay here with you. but after the past couple of days of thinking you’ve lost him, there’s no way, in hell, he’s leaving you here.

“i’m going with you,” you announced, already walking towards him.

“no,” he says sternly, meeting you in the middle, “just stay here, watch the kids,” his eyes pleading with you to obey.

“robin can watch them,” you countered quickly, reaching out for his hand, fingers fitting in yours perfectly.

“y/n-,” he whispers desperately. hoping you could hear how much he wants you to stay here, where it's safe.

he can’t keep putting you in dangerous situations just because he wants to play hero.

“you’re not going without me! i won’t let you!” standing your ground, your hand tightening around his.

steve can’t help but think back to earlier that night, sitting in the tiled bathroom of starcourt mall, robin opposite of him.

“i just don’t get it,” robin says groggily, slowly coming down from the high and voicing her opinions.

“what?,” steve looks at her, eyes droopy, mouth slightly agape.

“you…going on all of these dates,” robin pointed out, “how you don’t realize you have the perfect girl in front of you,” she wonders aloud he knows she wasn’t talking about herself, especially after she trusted him with her little secret.

“you don’t think i know that?,” steve says, eyes closing, head slowly coming in contact with the wall behind him, defeated.

“why don’t you do anything about it then?”

“because….because- she’s y/n! and i’m…” he pauses for a second, trying to find a better way to explain it to robin but all he could manage to say was “i’m just steve.”

“well ‘just steve,’ i think you’re pretty cool,” robin compliments him, allowing him to fully strip away the walls, his hidden feelings coming to surface.

“she has dreams and goals and i know damn well, she’s going to make every single one of those things happen, meanwhile, look at what i’m wearing! look at where i am! sitting on a bathroom floor, drugged!,-”

“hey, what does that say about me,” robin interjects.

“please, i practically dragged you in here with me,” he continues, “all i do is drag people into chaos….i dragged y/n in this mess too, i can’t continue holding her back,” an exasperated sigh escaping his lips.

“hm, you don’t have to hold her back, y’know?” robin countered, have you ever considered being the one to hold her hand and support her through all her ‘dreams and goals’?,” she asks, hopefully giving steve a new perspective.

“she doesn’t want that,” he says defeatedly.

“have you asked her?” robin questions. steve lets out a sigh before shaking his head no.

“you’ll never know if you never try, but if you need a little push, if i were her, after everything i’ve seen today, i would’ve left a long time ago,” she says like a prophet.

those words echo in his ears now and he sees it all clearly.

you stayed.

you could have left, could have stopped talking to him and walked away forever. yet here you are, gazing at him with pleading eyes, hands in his, hoping he won’t let go.

that fact is evident to him now as he feels your hand tightening around his.

steve found himself nodding slowly, a blast of realization striking him. you mirrored his gesture, sealing an unspoken agreement – minds and bodies communicating before any words were uttered.

within the next second, the two of you made your way back to TODFTHER, headed to the mall - together.

iv. the car crash and neverending story

“holy shit, hoLY SHIT! STEVE-,” you shout, the boy’s foot not leaving the gas as the car continues to accelerate.

steve takes a quick glance at you, “PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON!,” he yells and you quickly obey his order knowing he has no intention of stepping on the brake.

as soon as he heard the little click, with both hands on the wheel, steve immediately stepped on the gas, the car accelerating at a speed you couldn’t even imagine. you can’t help but hold your breath, scared for the impact you know is about to come.

in a matter of seconds, TODFTHER crashes into the black car driven by billy hargrove — bursting it into flames. nothing can be heard but the ringing in your ear as you try to refocus. this wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had matching concussions because of billy.

“are you okay?,” steve immediately inspects you, unbuckling your seatbelt, warm hands gently cupping your cheeks, eyes finding yours. your chest heaving, trying to make sense of how the two of you were still alive.

as you catch your breath, you look up into his golden eyes, rapid breaths syncing. then, in one swift moment, his lips are on yours, in a quick, passionate kiss.

well, this is definitely not how steve imagined his first kiss with you.

he pulls away as soon as he registers his actions and you’re left breathless, not at all sure with what happened.

“sorry, i got caught in the moment,” he panics.

“it’s okay,” you nod still trying to catch your breath.

you don’t catch the way his eyes lose a little glimmer of hope. he’s about to take back what he said until the mindflayer makes an appearance on top of the building and you both very much snap out of the trance, being reminded that you were still in the middle of the battle.

nancy directs your attention to her, yelling for your safety. steve immediately jumps out of the car, his warm hands instinctively grabbing yours, making sure you enter the car first.

silence envelops the vehicle, everyone too afraid to say anything as the haunting size of the creature continues to taunt the group.

it wasn’t until dustin’s voice rang into the air followed by a young girl that everyone finally released the breath they were holding.

you look at steve with recognition, “suzie,” you say in harmony and he can’t help but be in awe.

“you’re going to have to say sorry for doubting him,” you tease, making steve chuckle.

he liked that. the fact that you guys can immediately joke around like he didn’t just kiss you after he crashed the car that could’ve caused your deaths.

suzie-poo and dusty-bun keeps the group entertained, especially when they start singing a duet to never ending story.

steve looks at you like this is the craziest thing he’s ever heard, the rest of group looking disgusted.

you can’t help but giggle, quietly singing along to dustin, for only steve to hear, making him shake his head in disbelief.

“i cant believe she’s real,” steve says after the musical that is probably in the top three most life changing moments in his life and the two of you break out in quiet giggles.

v. ambulances and “friends?”

the battle was bloody and not everyone came back unscathed. some didn’t come back at all. hopper made a huge sacrifice. billy was dead.

now everyone was seated in their own ambulances, near star court mall, waiting for clearance.

you’ve spent the last hour trying to comfort max in her grief. losing billy like that, right in front of her eyes, left her in her thoughts, refusing to talk to anyone.

the only reason she let you in was because you knew her brother in a different light, unlike the others who has always viewed him as the villain.

“is it bad that part of me is relieved?,” max quietly whispers like she didn’t even want you to hear it, almost like the guilt of saying it out loud was going to kill her.

you shake her head no, “grief can present itself in different ways, you don’t have to feel a certain way,” you reassure the younger girl, “just feel what you’re feeling now and take it day by day” you try to comfort her, hoping your words can somehow reach her.

meanwhile steve was with dustin and robin, sitting in a different ambulance.

“i kissed her,” steve confessed to the duo.

“you kissed her?” robin and dustin says at the same time. one with pride, the other, shocked.

“i. kissed. her.” steve repeats, more to affirm himself that it actually happened and it wasn’t just the drugs that had completely worn off at the time nor was it the concussion he surely had.

he really kissed you. he knows its true because if he closes his eyes and think about it hard enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips on his.

“well are you gonna go talk to her about it?,” robin breaks him out of his daydream and the question immediately causes bubbles to rise through his stomach.

he feels like he's going to throw up.

“what if i dont?,” he panted, “i did tell her it was just a spur of a moment thing,” he reveals.

“now, why would you tell her that?” dustin says like a father disappointed in his kid.

“i don’t want to ruin our friendship!” he defends himself, arms flailing in the wind.

“you already kissed her dumbass, thats like #1 on things not to do to ruin a friendship,” robin points out and he knows there’s no way he was going to win this two to one battle.

he was going to have to talk to you.

“hey,” steve's hushed voice breaks you out of your own thoughts.

max has left you on your own a while ago, saying she just wanted to be alone. when she was gone, you had a bit of time to process everything as much as you can at the moment.

“you okay?” steve asks softly.

giving him a small smile, you pat the empty space beside you, inviting him in your ambulance, “could be better, but yeah…i'm okay, are you?”

he nods, answering your question. “are you sure?... billy is gone,” he mentions cautiously, afraid of how you would react but prepared to offer comfort.

“well... i do feel sorry for max, she’s the one that lost her brother tonight,” he nods, understanding what you meant.

billy was long gone for you. surely, not like this — never would you have wanted it to be like this. but he no longer occupies any part of your mind and definitely not your heart.

“do you know what actually scared me?” you whisper, your breath coming in contact with the cold air. his silence urges you to go on.

“when i couldn’t find you,” you admit to him and to yourself.

steve sees everything that he needs to see in your eyes – love, fear, a hint of sadness.

he has the urge to pull you into him, to feel your lips like he did earlier that night. but before he does, he knows he has to come clean. he has to do it right this time.

“i have to tell you something,” he says urgently.

“if something like tonight ever happens again, god i hope it doesn’t, but if it did and i never got to say this, i would hate myself forever,” he rambles, trying to buy time. he knows that after he says what he’s about to say then things with you will take a turn.

“you're scaring me steve…what is it?” you ask, softly placing your hand on top of his shaking leg, hoping to somehow help him calm down. he takes a second to gather his composure.

to make sure he says the words the way you deserve to hear them – honest, sweet, gentle.

“y/n, i am in love with you,” he confesses into the night air, soft brown eyes locked on yours.

you stare at him, eyes slightly widening, registering his words.

for steve, time seemed to stretch endlessly, it could've been three seconds or three minutes but but it was unquestionably the longest silence he had ever endured.

when you still haven’t said anything, he realizes he has made a mistake and knows he has to fix it, immediately.

“a-and you don't have to say it back!, i'm not asking for anything!, i mean it would be nice but i'm totally okay with just being fr-” he fumbles over his words, hoping that dustin could find some sort of way to teleport back in time to prevent this confession from happening. but then he feels it — soft lips pressing against his own, shutting him up ever so sweetly.

his body responds instinctively, returning the gentle kiss, eyes fluttering close. this was how it was supposed to go.

“please don’t say you're okay with us just being friends,” you tease, finally easing his racing thoughts.

he chuckles softly, “i am… i am not okay with us just being friends,.” he admits, mirroring your expression.

“good.”

that one word was all it took for all of steve's worries to fade, happily pulling you closer until there are no spaces left to fill.

bonus: pretty privilege (3 months later)

walking into family video, you gently drop steve’s hand, immediately missing the warmth it provided and causing a tiny frown to appear on your boyfriend’s face.

“hey keith,” you greeted the boy behind the counter sweetly.

“h-hi y/n, what can i do for you?,” he was grinning from ear to ear and you knew this was going to be easy.

“do you think,” you start, voice going an octave higher, an innocent glow in your eyes, “you maybe have two job positions open, right now?,” you finish, a hand placed softly, and very calculatedly on his arm. you were completely taking advantage of his “secret” crush on you.

steve glances between the two of you in disbelief.

meanwhile, the boy behind the counter was a blushing mess, mumbling a “god, y-you’re so pretty,” and steve has to physically hold himself back from kicking the air.

keith leans over the counter, “yeah, i’m-” he starts to say, but before he could end his sentence, steve’s hands wrapped protectively around yours, dragging you out of sight and in between one of the aisles.

“what are you doing?,” he quietly blurted once the two of you were out of sight. his arms crossing against his chest, biceps protruding, eyebrows going up.

“trying to get you and robin a job,” you reminded him of the reason why the three of you were even in this store in the first place.

“yeah but what’s with the cute voice and the eyes!,” he points out, “oh keith! do you have a job opening right now?,” he bats his eyelashes, mimicking you, completely appalled by the way you used your cute voice that was only supposed to be reserved for him.

“okay first of all, i do not sound like that. second, it’s pretty privilege steve and you have to know when to use it,” he rolls his eyes at your answer.

“yes, you do sound like that!” he whines like a five year old child, “...omygosh keith you’re so manly!, you have a job, you-,” he continues mocking.

“steve harrington,” you cut him off, “are you jealous?,” you accuse, holding back your smile.

“i don’t get jealous,” he scoffs, an absurd expression on his face like he couldn’t believe you even suggested that.

“really? because you’re looking pretty green right now,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips.

“y/n it’s physically impossible for people to turn green,” he rolls his eyes. you ignore the use of your name.

“it’s a metaphor,” you tease.

“you're a metaphor,” he mocks and you can’t stand it anymore, he’s acting too cute.

“you're cute when you’re jealous,”

“you really shouldn't be though,” you continue.

“yeah i know...its just keith,”

“no, its because i’m all yours, steve harrington.”

in an instant, all annoyance melts away from him and you know you won. your hands instinctively thread behind his neck, grabbing a hold of his curls, a routine you’re now all too familiar with but could never get enough of.

the taste of strawberry chapstick mingles with spearmint. steve senses your smile against his lips, pulling you closer as his hands encircle your waist, deepening the kiss. soft moans escape your lips, audible only to him.

he craves more of you, currently wishing you were alone in the comfort of his room, his car, or anywhere but here, in the middle of all these vhs tapes.

“ehem,” robin’s cough breaks the two of you apart, making you jump.

quickly wiping your lips, you push steve away, taking notice of the lipstick that was now painted on him before sending robin an apologetic smile.

it’s all too easy to get lost in the boy beside you.

“are you lovebirds done or should i go watch a movie first?,” she says sarcastically. she was honestly over all the lip locking. it was cute at first but the honeymoon phase is now starting to tire the rest of the group.

“well, you could-” steve starts.

you quickly jab him in the stomach, shutting him up. “sorry,” you smile sheepishly at robin, “yes, we’re done.”

robin chuckles, “whatever, i got us the job” she states, ready to get out of there.

“how?,” steve asks, head tilting to the side.

“told him that steve’s a real chick magnet and he’ll attract a lot of customers...especially hot babes,” she shrugs like it didn’t take any work.

“ahh,” you nod slowly, agreeing, then redirecting your focus back to steve.

“see. pretty privilege.” you point out, making steve chuckle, his fingers naturally wrapping around yours as the three of you finally walk out of the store.

and no, you don’t miss the way he looks back at keith with a smirk.

an: i will not promise a next year this time because in all honesty, i got nothing but moment titles. if i do write one, it will just be randomly posted one day lol.

thank you for reading! and if you were here when i first posted part one (exactly a year ago), extra love to you<3

please feel free to drop your thoughts, comments, suggestions, etc, in my inbox <3 (anons are welcomed!)

#aotm #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things x y/n

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