#they both had a rough season and somehow made the best of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysteria157 · 11 months ago

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Chapter 18

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~13k (it’s a long one)

CW: angst, fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content, mental illness (anxiety and grief)

Summary: You keep Nanami afloat on the anniversary of Yu’s death. Nanami finally works up the courage on a warm day of Sakura season.

Notes: Thank you to all who have been supportive so far. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated <3 One more chapter and I’m so sad to let it go. But happy reading and I hope you enjoy!

Divider: @cafekitsune

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It Had To Be You Masterlist (Complete)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

You had a feeling today would be rough.

You could tell from Kento’s behavior the day prior. His typically reserved nature seemed even more pronounced in your interactions. There was a heaviness to his indifferent gaze, a solemnness that lingered whenever he fixed his eyes on something for too long.

He had given up trying to hide his emotions from you long ago. You knew the reason of his shift in demeanor. Why pretend? You could sense his unease intensifying, like a silent wave rising in dark waters, growing with every passing second and on the verge of carrying him away at a moment’s notice.

So you made sure to wake up before him, and when you took in his form as he slept, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle fractures emerging.

This time, no snores escaped from his lips, and the absence of the sound somehow punctuated the deepening sadness that had begun to envelop him the day before. Your eyes traversed the contours of his bare back, tracing the sinewy lines of his muscular arms tucked beneath the pillow cradling his head. He lay facing you, his cheek indented by the press of his pillow against it, his disheveled blonde locks cascading messily across his forehead and cheeks. Blonde lashes delicately brushed the lower rimes of his eyes, and his back gently rose and fell in rhythm with slow breaths.

To anyone else, he was a handsome man sleeping. But to you, you could tell he was fighting. Even in slumber, devoid of any waking expression, you could still see faint traces of sorrow seeping through his pores.

You had a feeling today would be rough.

After all, who could cope well on the anniversary of their best friend’s death?

For as strong and resilient as Kento was, you knew he couldn’t.

So you did your best to distract him. You asked him to help with breakfast—a task he normally tried to do without you having to say much. And that small task seemed to help him divert his focus from Yu, if only for a moment. You kept him engaged, kept him talking as you both ate together and Ulani smashed waffle strips into her mouth.

And luckily, he didn’t fend off any of your attempts of distraction the entire day. Even though he was quieter than usual, the smile that he shot your way was just as genuine and loving. You pulled him out of the house with Ulani to meet Kaya and Aiko at the park. It would be good to get him out of the house, to let him breathe fresh air to dispel the toxic emotions that lingered within him.

He seemed okay.

At least he did now as you watched him from your perch under a canopy of leaves against the oak tree you laid against. He stood tall amidst the sea of other children in the space of the tranquil park, Ulani in his arms and Aiko perched on his shoulders. Her hands were buried in his blonde locks, uncaring of messing them up as she giggled loudly in response to whatever he was speaking up to her. For now, that grief had settled into a low simmer, his deep eyes filled with mirth as he joked with the two girls wrapped around him.

“Uncle Ken! Uncle Ken! Do the thing! Do it!” Aiko giggled excitedly, unable to contain her joy as she wriggled atop his shoulders.

Kento hummed playfully, gently squeezing Ulani’s cheeks until she squealed in his embrace. “The thing? Aiko, you’ll have to use your words. I can’t read your mind,” he goaded, making Aiko giggle even harder, face blushing with ceaseless laughter.

“The thing!” she whined, smiling down at him as he continued to play with his daughter.

“The thing. The thing. Hmmm.” He pretended to ponder for a moment, pursing his lips.

Aiko’s giggles stopped short when Kento grabbed her ankle and lifted her off his shoulders, dangling her upside down while still holding his babbling daughter with the other arm. Aiko pealed with laughter, the sound echoing through the park, bouncing against the plastic of the playground they stood at. Kento chuckled softly, slowly spinning in a circle as he delighted in Aiko’s please for more.

As you watched them, your back leaning against the trunk of the thick oak tree, butterflies quivered to life in your stomach. It was a moment you never imagined you would experience. In the past, you had weakly clutched onto a desire for children, a partner—a family. But work always consumed your time, leaving little room for anything that you could do for yourself. It all seemed like a distant dream, just like your passion for a career in ceramics.

But seeing Kento now, watching him rearrange Aiko and lift her so she could wrap small hands around monkey bars, you couldn’t help but feel thankful for falling into that 1% of faulty birth control. Even with an IUD and a condom, you still ended up pregnant. And maybe it was fate because Kento was a wonderful father. Once that mask of his had fallen, and his glares had slowly morphed into soft, rare smiles and longing glances, you could see just how much of him would foster the wonderful father he had become.

You couldn’t help but think about more with him. You couldn’t help but imagine vacations across the world with your little family. You couldn’t help but imagine him working at the bakery in the mornings, teaching Ulani how to knead bread and man the register, throwing off his apron as soon as he walked into the house and pressing a tired yet loving kiss to your lips.

Over a year ago, the ease with which you had settled into domesticity with Kento would have made you uncomfortable. But with him, it felt as natural as breathing. He blended effortlessly into your life; his presence seamlessly woven into the fabric of your being.

Watching him leave Aiko’s side so she could play on her own, his strong arms wrapped around his daughter as he showered her light brown cheeks with kisses—your breath caught in your chest.

You wanted more.

It was an ever-present thought in your mind. It nagged at you with each kiss that he craved to have each day. It whispered in your mind every night as you drifted off to sleep and as you woke up by his side. It lingered in your thoughts during shared dinners with the three of you, and it grew more pronounced every time your gaze shifted to his left hand, unsettling you with the absence of a ring.

Part of your soul wanted to recoil at the thought. The mere mention of fantasizing about marriage would have made your women’s studies professor burn every letter of recommendation she gave you. But the other part of you relished in it. Because if there was a way to tie yourself to Kento, you would do it in a second.

“Lost in thought?” Kaya’s voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to reality. You blinked and refocused, finding her reclining on the tree trunk beside you, her legs stretched out in front of her. “You’ve been zoned out for a good ten minutes.”

Instead of answering her, you deflected, not quite comfortable sharing your thoughts. “How are you feeling?”

Kaya took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with a heavy weight. “Surprisingly fine. Well, as fine as one can be on a day like this.” Aiko called out for Kento’s attention, and Kaya smiled softly as she watched her play on the monkey bars.

“Uncle Ken, watch me!”

“I’m watching. I’m watching.”

“I miss him so much…he was everything to me,” Kaya whispered. The pain in her voice made your own chest tighten as you tried to put yourself in her shoes. You couldn’t imagine losing Kento. You couldn’t even fathom the thought of Ulani having to grow up without a father like him. “That pain will always be there. But it’s gotten a little easier to deal with.” Kaya waved at her daughter, answering Aiko’s loud call for attention, and chuckled softly to herself.

You hoped Kento could say the same. You hoped his pain had reached a level where he could find get through today without drowning.

You just hoped you were doing well to help.

Eventually, Kento made his way to where you and Kaya were seated on the blanket, nestled beneath the canopy of leaves. He gently placed Ulani on the soft fabric and delighted in watching her crawl towards you, her cheeks rosy from laughter, her mouth glistening with drool, and her wild curls tousled by the wind. As he slid down the tree to settle himself next to you, he turned his head, pressing a tender kiss to your temple, filling you with a burst of warmth. You took that touch with you and nestled it inside of your chest in the hope that it was a manifestation of just how content he felt in that very moment.

In the afternoon, you found yourself surrounded by the rest of your friends—Gojo, Shoko, Geto and Ome—all laughing loudly and picking out items on a menu that were Yu’s favorite, inside of a restaurant that he loved. The gentle look in Kento’s eyes surprisingly had yet to fall. Even as your friends told stories of moments shared with Yu, as the history grew more intimate and somber, he remained steady.

He was more tense as you all sat together afterward beneath Yu’s tree, offering their own bits of peace and well wishes at his resting place. When it was Kento’s turn, he chose to stay silent, and no one pressed him to speak. Gojo didn’t tease him, Geto’s gaze didn’t linger too long, and you shifted closer to him, cradling Ulani in your arms as she peacefully slept.

When everyone finally departed for home, Kento remained rooted to his spot, his serious eyes fixed on the small nameplate that bore Yu’s name and the dates of his birth and passing. The April evening grew colder, but the warmth emanating from Kento’s wool trench coat provided some comfort as you waited for him to speak.

But he didn’t. And as more minutes passed, you began to feel as if he probably never would. You observed the delicate lines of his eyebrows furrowing, the weariness painting his voice as he finally broke the silence.

“I’m not really sure of what to say,” he admitted, his words heavy with fatigue and pain. “Is that bad?”

“No. The fact that you’re even here is more than enough, Ken,” you reassured him, but he seemed unsatisfied. His brow creased deeper, and a faint frown began to etch its way onto his face. “You can tell him about your day. Tell him about Gojo ordering three lava cakes after dinner and scarfing them down in two minutes. Tell him that Ulani is starting to eat more solid foods and how she loves yogurt but isn’t a fan of peas.”

The small huff of laughter that you were seeking finally fell from him, puffed into the air in a warm exhale that made you feel a little less frigid. Kento looked over at you, his furrowed brow softening slightly.

“The point is, it doesn’t have to be grandiose. And I’m sure Yu would hate that you had to force yourself to speak when you weren’t ready. So…” you trailed off, adjusting Ulani in your arms so she was snugly wrapped in your wool coat, her warm body providing solace against the cold. Reaching out, you found Kento’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “So we can just sit here and just…be.”

He glanced down at your joined hands, his burnt-umber gaze tracing the delicate curves of your fingers. You watched as they softened when his gaze fell on the bundle sleeping in your coat, watched as his shoulders relaxed with his next exhale and his irises slid up to catch yours.

“So we can just…be. Here together. Me and you?”

His voice was weak, revealing an exposed vulnerability that made him seem raw and open. You knew deep down that he understood you would never leave him in a moment like this, but right now, Kento needed the reassurance.

And you freely gave it, offering a gentle squeeze of his hand and a warm smile. “Me and you,” you affirmed, allowing that serious gaze, etched into your memory, to momentarily flash with resolution. It seemed as if something he had been contemplating for a long time had finally come full circle.

But the moment flickered away in an instant, replaced by Kento’s tender gesture of lifting your hand to his, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, and giving the cold air one more weary exhale before turning his gaze back to Yu’s tree, finding solace amidst the silence.

***

Sakura season in Nakameguro was one of the most treasured in Tokyo. And you could understand why. Even though you and Kento had arrived early at the Meguro River, the streets lining the river were teeming with both tourists and locals.

Amidst the bustling crowds and long lines at every vendor you passed, the beauty of the cherry blossom trees in full bloom couldn’t be denied. Delicate white petals, emerged from their buds, and billowed in the surprisingly warm late April air. The water was still, casting a reflection of the trees that arched over it, cherry blossoms floating on top.

Growing up in Sendai, you were used to wearing a Yukata with Ome and her family for Hanami. Each year, you made an effort to find a different color, and during the times when you couldn’t buy one for yourself, Ome’s mother would kindly gift one to you, knowing your own mother didn’t bother with the tradition.

But in Nakameguro, everyone who walked past you was dressed in casual clothes, bundled for a little extra warmth, and armed with cameras to capture the festivities. You settled for a long dress instead. Ulani, her legs kicking excitedly in the carrier strapped to Kento’s chest, donned a pink onesie designed to resemble a kimono, a thoughtful gift from Chiyo. Ulani of course, looked absolutely adorable. Her abundant light brown curls framed her face, secured by a small headband to keep them out of her eyes. Kento had insisted on taking countless photos before you even left the house and unlike most babies who made their irritation known, Ulani flourished in the attention her father gave.

At nine months old, Ulani brimmed with energy and an insatiable curiosity that made her father understandably nervous. She babbled in a string of syllables, not yet forming coherent words, but her enthusiasm was limitless. Despite her animated exclamations and her tendency to explore everything she could reach, she observed the world around her with a gaze that mirrored her father’s—sharp, serious, and seemingly indifferent, except for the frequent bursts of squeals and laughter. Just like her father.

Meanwhile, said father was too busy exploring the food stalls to notice the intrigued gazes of everyone around him.

You wanted to be annoyed but…could you blame them?

Kento, despite his awkwardness in social situations with unfamiliar faces, exuded nothing but sin. Sinewy legs clad in crisp slacks, accentuating his muscular frame, and a ribbed knit sweater hugged his torso in a delicious way that made your mouth water. His thick blonde locks, styled in their signature fashion, were neatly gelled, although he had once again forgone his glasses.

Too handsome for his own good but you didn’t have the energy to glare at everyone. He had freely given you more than enough in the shower that morning.

You could behave. For now.

“What was Hanami like for you in Sendai?” he asked, his voice hushed yet resonating in the bustling atmosphere around you. His gaze fixated on a skewer of Dango—an assortment of pink, green, and white as Ulani occupied herself with a sliver of banana, her sticky fingers and puckered mouth evidence of her snack.

“More traditional than this,” you replied, accepting the Dango from the vendor before turning to him. Kento’s eyes widened minutely in curiosity, his foodie nature front and center. He plucked a Dango from the stick and popped it into his mouth, savoring the sweet and chewy rice morsel that burst with flavor on his tongue.

“Sendai has a small-town feel within a big city. During Sakura season, we wore Yukatas and Getas. We had a cherry blossom tree lighting and much fewer stalls with local goods,” you elaborated, pulling a playful grumble from Kento as he tore another piece of Dango in half and offered it to a grabby Ulani.

“So the city of Sendai gets to see you in a Yukata, and I don’t? I find that unfair,” he protested with a teasing tone, cheeks flushing slightly in a rare display of bashfulness.

“If this is some sort of Edo-period fantasy you have, you’re gonna have to warm me up before you ask me to get kinky.”

Kento choked on a piece of Dango, sputtering and red face as he waved his hand toward you. “That’s not—"

“Nanamin!” a familiar voice called from behind you. Kento’s surprise instantly faded, already recovered from choking and face replaced by a natural annoyance as Gojo approached. Towering over the crowd, his white hair enhancing his pale complexion, Gojo was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, simple to anyone else but still stamped with a designer label. “Don’t pout, this is a happy occasion! I always want to see you. For once, show me that you love me,” he joked, chuckling more to himself before beaming at Ulani. “And hello, my beautiful girl! How about we go find something sweet to eat?” Without hesitation, he scooped Ulani from the carrier, ignoring Kento’s grunt of disapproval.

“Ask first, Gojo. Don’t snatch my daughter like a thief,” Kento snapped, reaching for her and blanching when Gojo pulled your daughter out of his reach.

“I’m her godfather.”

“How you equate that with permission to do what you want, is beyond me.”

Gojo turned to you, alien blue eyes seeking support that he would never find. You rolled your eyes. “Gojo, stop bothering Kento and ask before you pick up Ulani.” Handing him the diaper bag, you added, “Keep your phone on and only give her foods that we talked about. No experimenting.”

“But—”

“Would you like me to tell Ome that you no longer are the godfather to our child?” Gojo immediately frowned, his gaze resembling that of a child denied candy, before grumbling and walking away.

Kento rolled his eyes, tightening the empty carrier closer to himself and muttering his annoyance in a way that made you hold back a snicker.

“It’s Gojo being Gojo. He loves Ulani.”

“He’s rude,” Kento tried to argue.

“And yet, you love him.” He didn’t disagree, his cheeks ruddy in embarrassment as he sighed and fumbled with the strap of his Cartier watch. “This is your stomping ground so how about we take this small moment we both have and have some fun, hmm?” You leaned up, standing on your toes to press a warm kiss to his cheek that seemed to settle his pout. He sighed dramatically, lacing his fingers with yours, and pulled you along the street.

You both savored every moment of your time together. Most of this year, your time with one another was spent caring for Ulani or navigating the challenges and discomforts of your pregnancy. Now, with your daughter under the care of her eccentric godfather, Kento could pull you along from vendor to vendor, immersing you in the vibrant atmosphere.

He complained teasingly as you both picked through a bento, remarking how your tomagoyaki and grilled fish was far superior to what the vendor had prepared. He brought you to a small stand that sold Cherry Blossom cookies, sharing that it was a place he frequented every year during his youth. He entertained a kiss on your cheek as you snapped a picture of you both in front of the river. Later in the day, as Ome and Gojo joined you again, Kento bought the three portions of Inari Sushi, eating his portion swiftly before Gojo could sneak his hands onto the plate.

“Nanamin, stop being unfair!”

Kento couldn’t deny that he was truly enjoying himself. Even his quips to Gojo lacked its usual sharpness. Between the two of you, you always brought the most energy and liveliness. You laughed freely, indulged in every snack Kento offered you from the stalls, and unabashedly leaned into him, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his shoulder, cherishing his warmth as he joked with an always loud Ome.

He was happy and content and surprised at his own luck.

Gojo insisted on stopping at a vendor selling woven flower accessories made from fallen cherry blossoms. Gojo pulled Ome close, ignoring her protests as he demanded a bracelet be crafted in front of him before paying. Kento felt you chuckle from next to him, no doubt taking in the way Ome blushed as Gojo wrapped his arm around her, no longer caring if the action would earn violence. Because Gojo knew, deep down, that things had changed between them. And Ome knew, deep down, that violence would make him work harder.

Normally, Kento wouldn’t pay much attention to this particular vendor every year. He didn’t consider it significant because he never had someone to give a flower accessory to, and his father always bought one for his mother. But he had a reason to now. As he made to reach into his pocket for his wallet, he stopped short when he saw one of the vendors grab your wrist and pull you towards an empty chair next to the stall.

You were a little shocked, already put off from having a person touch you freely, but you reeled in disbelief when the vendor reached for your loose curls, your head arching away from her on reflex. Kento felt anger flare in his chest, a rage he rarely felt bubbling to the surface, his mouth opening to bark at the woman to leave. However, she quickly stopped and held up a bundle of flowers, gesturing towards your hair and asking if she could weave them in.

“Would you like to go?” Kento asked you, unable to hide the fury in his eyes. “We can if you’re uncomfortable.” He watched your eyes flicker to the woman as she bowed softly in apology and you sighed softly, relaxing and offering a weak smile to the woman instead.

“I’m fine, Ken. I promise.”

It took him a minute more to be completely content with your response. But he let Gojo pull him away, across the skinny street to rest against the rail outlining the Meguro River, Kento’s eyes never leaving yours. Ulani squirmed in her carrier around his chest, fidgeting and whining in frustration as she took in the distance from you. As the woman began weaving cherry blossoms into your and Ome’s hair, you waved at your daughter from across the street, the unique bond between you tugging at your heart.

“Mrs. Nanami always looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” Gojo remarked from beside Kento, as he pulled a piece of Dango from a skewer that mysteriously appeared in his hand.

Always.

The word lingered on Kento’s tongue, tempted to acknowledge Gojo’s statement but knowing it would only lead to a slew of immature comments. The title he had given you wasn’t lost to Kento either, because he thought about it so frequently that it was beginning to drive him insane.

Nowadays he felt like such a fool when he stood next to you. Any other man would have gotten on their knees within months—weeks of having you as theirs and begged for more.

And he wanted to, desperately. But if there was one thing you could do without trying, it was make him nervous. Make him sweat and shift in his shoes because he didn’t deserve you. No one did. You had chosen him, but he could be replaced at any moment despite your protests otherwise.

A vendor who had finished working on Ome’s hair walked across the street towards Kento, her hands filled with cherry blossoms. She politely asked if she could weave them into Ulani’s hair. Kento allowed it, absentmindedly caressing his daughter’s chubby cheek to keep her distracted as he watched her giggle and babble with the woman.

The white flowers perfectly adorned her hair, creating a delicate halo against her light brown curls. Gojo showered her with compliments, leaning down to her eye level and sharing a bright smile as Ulani giggled in response.

Kento should have been paying more attention, his heart should have swelled with joy at the sight of his daughter’s happiness. But he was distracted, his voice thick in his throat. As the vendor returned to her stand, Kento took notice of you. The cherry blossoms adorning your hair seemed as if they belonged there, nestled delicately within your loose curls that he had the privilege of running his hands through time and time again. They were arranged with exquisite precision, made to look as if they floated within a sea of darkness.

He felt it again, that same feeling that had been consuming his thoughts for months— that had blared to the point of a headache a few weeks ago as you both sat together at Yu’s tree. That heaviness in his pocket suddenly felt hot, burning the skin of his thigh, screaming at him to stop being such a coward.

Kento locked eyes with you from across the street, familiar irises that he looked at every single day that had never failed to be any less beautiful than the day before. And like he so often saw, you threw him a lift of your brow, a mischievous glint in your stare that made his chest clench and a chuckle rise from the pit of his stomach.

“Tell your daddy to set the date,” Gojo spoke to his goddaughter, earning a glare from Kento and a harsh bark to leave him alone, batting at the snickering white-haired man as he crossed the street for Ome.

***

From the moment you walked to him after having flowers woven into your hair, Kento was noticeably less talkative than before. He chalked it up to the increased traffic of people around you both, but you could see through him as always. Although his smiles and laughter remained genuine, he seemed timid and nervous.

By the time you all made it home, Ulani was exhausted and fussy. Kento volunteered to bathe her and put her to bed, leaving you alone with your anxious thoughts. You tidied up the house, neatly putting away Ulani’s toys, folding the throw blanket back onto the sofa, and walking to the backdoor to make sure it was locked. Your eyes caught the moonlight that brightened your backyard.

This year’s winter had been harsh and unforgiving, but despite its grip, Spring made the grass grow back plentiful and thick. Kento had installed a swinging bench for you soon after Ulani was born so you could sway outside with her in peace, but it’s been months since you sat yourself on it.

But it was nice enough now, and you couldn’t resist the call of the warm evening and found yourself sliding open the door, carrying yourself towards the darkly stained bench. As you settled onto its solid surface, you began to sway gently, soaking up the silence of the air around you, the neighborhood quiet as everyone settled for sleep.

Maybe Kento had a headache. He avoided large crowds and noise for that very reason. Stupidity and rudeness frustrated him more than Gojo at times, and he was quick to grow impatient with the desire to be in the privacy of his home with his small family. He probably put on a smile and suffered through a lot more for you to enjoy Hanami.

Your mind was racing with thoughts and excuses to justify his shift in behavior, growing more anxious and desperate by the minute. You felt your heart give a painful lurch, your neck began to sweat, and your hands began to tremble. Those dreadful tendrils of anxiety once again began to cackle in your ears and wrap slowly around your throat.

He’s going to break up with you. He’s going to walk out here and say how he couldn’t do this anymore. He’s going to try to do whatever he could to justify his only choice to leave you. The teasing had finally gotten too much for him. The grip of fatherhood too consuming to bear and—

You were restless, shooting up from the bench and making your way to the middle of your backyard. The soft, cool grass cushioned your steps and brushed against the thin fabric of your dress as you laid down, your eyes too sensitive of the full moon but still strong enough to appreciate the faint stairs twinkling in the sky.

“Don’t be so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “He wouldn’t leave. Not like this.”

Bending your knees and sinking your toes into the grass, you grounded yourself into the present, rooted yourself in sanity and detaching from the haunting whispers in your ears.

The sound of the backdoor sliding open momentarily caused you to tense, but you kept your gaze fixated on the sky, attempting to identify constellations with your limited knowledge of astronomy.

The big dipper? Orion’s belt? Fuck, Sagittarius?

You had never been more envious of an astronomer in this very moment as Kento sank into the grass next to you, placing the baby monitor between you both, the low hum of static breaking through the quiet air.

“She was exhausted,” he murmured. You hummed in reply, still lost in your own thoughts and trying to figure out if the object in front of you was a star or just a trick of the light. Your distracted response pulled his attention to you. “Are you okay?”

You bit the inside of your lip, your eyes still on the stars above you. “Have I done something to upset you? After the flower vendor, you got really quiet for the rest of the day.”

He didn’t respond at first, and your heart picked up in speed from the growing silence even as he sagged on his back next to you, his eyes tracing the stars in the sky.

“I could never be upset with you.”

“Lies. If you’re going to leave me, soften the blow by giving me an orgasm first so I’m not so upset.”

He chuckled softly, a spirited smile dancing on his lips as he eyed a small cluster of stars. “Since the moment you allowed me to be involved in the pregnancy, the thought of leaving you has never crossed my mind,” he confessed. “Even on the days when we’re exhausted and we argue, or when we crave solitude, the idea of leaving you, of not having you in my life, is inconceivable to me.”

“Inconceivable?” you pestered, nudging him with your elbow. “Such strong words.”

“You tease me relentlessly, would you like me to stop speaking?” he reproached, a smile in his voice. You bit back a laugh, choosing instead to weave your fingers between his in the space of grass between you in a silent concession to behave. “You have no idea how impossible it is for me to forget about you,” he continued. “Even when we couldn’t stand each other, you were all I thought about. I drove my mother crazy, ranting almost every day about how frustrated I was. And when the idea of becoming a father initially shocked me, knowing that it connected me to you brought me such an overwhelming satisfaction.”

Kento gave your intwined hands a squeeze.

“I’ve been in my own head these past few hours…and I’m sorry if I seemed distant with you. It’s important to me that you know that leaving you is inconceivable to me because I can’t imagine raising a child with anyone else. I can’t envision going to sleep or waking up beside anyone else. I can’t fathom a future without you by my side.”

You heart fluttered in your chest, thumping erratically against your ribcage as his words floated through the night air and landed on your cheeks. A soothing stillness settled between the two of you, as the moonlight bathed your skin and you struggled to swallow the quickly forming lump in your throat. Those tendrils of anxiety that had wrapped around you earlier suddenly dissipated, leaving only a lingering sense of love and certainty from his hand between yours.

“So what you’re saying is that you wanna grow old with me?” you playfully quipped, a smile spreading across your face. “You wanna get travel the world with me, get a bigger house and have babies? Marry me and honeymoon on an island that you always talk about?”

You turned your head to face him, observing his flushed cheeks and slightly widened eyes as he looked up at the night sky. Though he didn’t appear afraid, that nervous expression from earlier in the day had once again returned and painted his features. You sat up immediately, scooting closer to him and furrowing your brows in worry.

“Ken? I was only kidding. I’m sorry, I took that too far didn’t I?”

Once again, he remained silent, a silence that stretched on for too long, intensifying your unease. But then, a strong arm wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap so that your legs bracketed his waist. He sat up slowly, closing the distance between you both until you felt your back brush against his knees that were bent to hold you against him.

You kept your gaze away from him, focusing on the strands of your curls that had fallen over your shoulder, decorated with the cherry blossoms from earlier.

“I should stop teasing you so much. I’ve done it a little too much today and—”

“My love,” he interrupted, his voice gentle yet resolute, silencing your anxious ramblings. “That is what I was trying to say.” Your hands squeezed a thick chunk of your hair tightly, the soft white petals crushed against your palm as your nerves tingled with anticipation. “I do want to grow old with you. I do want to travel the world and go on adventures with you. I do want to get a bigger house. I want to one day have more children. I want every mundane activity, every birthday and holiday, everything. And yes…” His finger delicately lifted your chin, compelling you to look up at him. Your ears buzzed, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out everything else, even though you could still hear him perfectly. “I want to marry you...and honeymoon on one of those islands that I talk so much about.”

Your eyes widened, face flushing from the heat that had bubbled beneath your cheeks, hands clutching your hair tightly to steady yourself as much as you could.

“N-now you’re teasing,” you whispered, smiling weakly up at him, all pretense of your typical defense suddenly drained.

Serious eyes studied you, softly contemplating a variety of choices before he stood, picked you up and set you on your feet. He towered over you, his face illuminated by the moonlight, casting a pale blue glow on his sharp cheek bones and shadows through the long strands that fell over his eyebrows. His hair was no longer parted, cascading messily against his cheeks.

Reaching up, he slid a warm palm along your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. His touch was always too much and yet just enough. It made you feel as if you were drowning and also at the top of a mountain. The resolute look you had caught weeks ago, as you both sat under Yu’s tree, could still be seen in his eyes—strong and vibrant, washing over you now with a realization too overpowering for your doubts to suppress.

“I can assure you, I am in no way teasing,” he finally spoke, tender and filled with longing. He stopped tracing your lips, slid his hand along the side of your neck and down the expanse of your arm before twining his fingers once again with yours. “Maybe I should be a little more convincing.”

The sting behind your eyes came without warning. You swallowed, attempting to push that lump again back down your throat; blinked furiously as your vision began to blur and willed your heart to keep beating as you watched him press a kiss to your knuckles before slowly sinking down on one knee into the grass.

You brain struggled to keep up, failing to send the right signals to prevent the tears from falling, to ease the tension in your throat, to simply breathe.

But it was no use, because after the first tear fell, the rest came without restraint. Even with his hand firmly holding yours, you felt as if you were falling. Plummeting from the night sky back into your body over and over again as he whispered your full name into the warm April air, squeezing your hand once more to tether you to him, and offering you that rarely seen gentle smile before asking you once more.

Properly, firmly and without reservation.

“Will you marry me?”

And it was real. This was real and you were blinking down at him wildly so you could see his beautiful face clearly through your sea of tears. You couldn’t find the words to speak—no matter how many times your reply raced from your brain to your lips, you couldn’t command your mouth to move.

So you nodded. Slowly and with a wobbly lip, you nodded. His own lips twitched with a brief smile, his eyes flashing with heavy multitudes of happiness even though he squeezed your hand again to hold you steady.

“I need you to actually say something to me…please—”

“Yes,” you whispered, shaky and croaking from your throat of its own volition. You shook out a harsh breath, smiling down at him. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Kento.”

It took him a moment too long to actually process your response before he exhaled so deeply as though the breath had been stuck in his lungs. A rare and pearly white Nanami Kento smile, brighter than the moonlight bathing his skin, shining at you as he stood up and pulled you close with a force that made you gasp, your mouth opening to let out a laugh before he captured it with a kiss. Full, deep and overpowering, his cheeks brushing against the wetness of your own, leeching oxygen from you until you had to pull away to catch your breath, lightheaded and panting against his lips.

In your haze, you hadn’t noticed him pull a small object from his pocket, but you felt the cold metal slip onto your finger, adjusting his hand so that you could finally see. And it was beautiful, of course it was beautiful—simple yet perfectly suited for you, a blatant reminder that it would remain on your hand for the rest of your life as long as you allowed it.

“For the first time, I’ve finally figured out what it takes to render you speechless,” he teased even though his own voice was thick with emotion. “Imagine the things I will get for you now.”

Your gut reaction was to smack him hard on the chest, relishing in the deep chuckles that reverberated from him and into the Nakameguro air.

“Stop teasing,” you whined, sniffing pathetically as the tears began to fall again.

“My, my,” he purred, chuckling deeply and pulling you closer with strong arms around your waist. You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, weakly glaring up at him without any embarrassment of the rivers running down your cheeks. “You are telling me to stop teasing? Proposing months ago would have been more beneficial for me.”

You hated being on the other end of something that you naturally dished out. In this moment, you were already vulnerable and raw for him, your chest aching and cut open and your heart pounding in the evening air. His teasing felt like icing on the cake, a lightheartedness that was rarely seen in such abundance, leaving you struggling to find your footing. Trying to fight against the fast rhythm of your heart, the overwhelming tears, and his deep laughter as he tilted your head up to look at him.

“Ken—” you tried to admonish, but once again his lips met yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. Gasping, you felt him scoop you up in his arms and carry you back inside the house. Your chest ached for air, yearning to fill your lungs with oxygen that Kento continuously stole. The heat of his fingertips digging into the skin of your thighs around his waist seared your senses, and you could taste the sudden, pungent want against the tongue that slid against yours.

You didn’t expect to be on the ground so soon and the cool hardwood floors on your feet and your wobbly legs made you stagger backward with him, your fingers still buried in his shirt as your mouths continued to slide sloppily against one another. You gasped sharply when your hips met the countertop of your vanity, the mirror smacking against your back.

Kento wasted no time, and you felt like you were burning with his touch, catching on fire with every grab against your skin and hiss of breath along the wetness of your lips. Hot hands were suddenly hiking up your dress, digging into the meat of your inner hips and tracing sinfully along the seam of your panties.

You only had a moment to breathe, only a second to get your bearings as he pulled away and swiftly removed your dress, sliding his hands behind you to deftly unfasten your bra, and scooping you up again before throwing you onto your bed.

You blinked up at him in shock, your breath catching in your throat as you took in his heated expression at the foot of the bed. He was always a passionate lover, always vocal about his desire to have his hands on you—but the expression directed at you now was carnal, so incredibly carnal that your cunt throbbed in response, sliding against the steadily moistening spot of the fabric that covered it.

Kento had promised himself he would be calm; he had so much planned in his head if you would have accepted him. Truly he thought he would have cried—because he’s that type of man.

But the moment you said yes, the moment he slid that ring on your finger and could see a booming sign that you were his, all sense of decorum had evaporated from his body immediately.

He had thrown caution to the wind, driving him to yank off his shirt and practically rip his zipper as he pushed down his pants and underwear. He hissed softly from the feel of cool air hitting his cock, hot and heavy and leaking precum already. Without your usual words of impatience, he used your moans instead as his guide, fueling his courage as he trailed a wet tongue up the thickness of your thighs, dipping into your belly button and around the underside of your breast before encircling a peaked nipple once—twice before pulling it into his mouth. Your hands were tight in his hair, your body arching in exquisite anticipation, drawing your breasts further into his eager mouth as he licked, sucked and bit at the sensitive skin.

You could only nod when he reached for your panties moments later and you didn’t shy away from the way your thighs trembled as he pulled them down your legs, his mouth salivating at the sight of slick catching against your inner thigh. The heat between your legs hit him first, his cock throbbing in automatic response, his mouth swallowing drool as he stared at your exposed cunt, wet and dripping for him.

You had never met a man who took joy in eating you out. They did it to get you ready or because it was expected. But not Kento—god, not Kento. You’re the best thing he would ever have. His last meal. That first drink after being stranded in a desert. He did it because he loved it and wasted no time yanking your hips to him and throwing your legs over his shoulders before he was feasting—savoring the taste of your cunt and the sound of your moans as you arched your hips closer to him.

You keened, pulling hard against his tresses as he sank two fingers inside of you down to the knuckle, delving deep in a rhythm that sent tingles of pleasure crawling up your legs and to the base of your spine. Your body trembled, your chest heaving in an effort to catch your breath as he took his pleasure and gave yours tenfold, three fingers deep and his tongue on your clit.

“Look how pretty you are,” he whispered, his eyes fixated on the mesmerizing sight of his fingers gliding in and out of you, shiny with slick and making a sound that had his eyes rolling into his head and his hips pressing into the mattress for friction. “So fucking pretty, baby,” he praised, his thumb pressing against your pulsing clit, igniting another surge of pleasure that made your breath catch around a sharp whine in your throat.

“Kento,” you moaned for him, your voice beckoning and desperate, eyes clenched tight and pleasure coiling into a ball in your belly. He answered your call like always, sliding back up your body, his lips hovering over yours and beautiful blond har falling to brush against your forehead.

“She speaks,” he teased, arching his fingers inside of you for good measure and marveling at the way you twitched and whined in response. “You normally keep me on my toes. Yet you’re so quiet now. Choked up and whiny and moaning. That’s not like you.” It was exactly like you, especially when you’re chasing an orgasm. But at this point, you realized Kento would use anything to tease you, so blissfully happy and desperately thrumming with want.

“You like the way I’m fingering you, baby?”

You blinked up at him in disbelief, your ears not used to him teasing in moments like this.

“Are you going to answer me?” voice darker now, still joyful but less patient.

You nodded profusely in response, panting up at him as the coil of an orgasm began to tighten at the small of your back. Your thighs quivered, your fingers tightening into the pillow aside your head.

No other man could compare to Kento’s touch. The thought of anyone else’s fingers trailing over your skin, sliding inside you in a way that drove you to the brink, seemed unfathomable. He was the only one who could make you moan like you were being paid for it, like you were now. The only one who could hit every spot with just a simple graze until he could take you higher and higher, until your moans became tight and shaky, and your body clenched around his fingers, surrendering to a back-arching orgasm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of your being.

You barely had a moment of reprieve before he kissed you again, stealing what little breath remained in your mouth as you tried to come down from that blissful high. His fingers slowly slid out of you, rubbed your clit gently while his lips trailed down your neck, licking the sweat from your skin.

“May I have you?” he whispered against your skin, the deep timbre of his voice oozing with velvety wickedness that made you shudder against him.

“I…” you croaked, the words straining from your throat, your body aching and yearning for more of his touch even though you were sensitive all over.

When thin rings of burnt-umber eyes came into view, the gaze was brimming with want, yet tender as he traced the contours of your face. Reaching for your left hand, he interlaced your fingers with his own, guiding your hand to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to each knuckle, each gesture filled with love and affection, before brushing his lips against the precious stone adorning your ring finger. Your eyes locked onto the gleaming jewel, the dim light of your room reflecting off the carats and once again stirring a sharp breath in your chest and a hint of moisture behind your eyes.

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, his gentle smile masking the unfamiliar mirth in his tone. “Should I have waited longer?”

“No,” you whispered wetly, offering your smile in exchange. Blinking away tears, your vision cleared enough to gaze at him more intently. You tightened your grip against his hand, the cool metal pulling your finger to remind you of its presence. “I’m happy…so happy.”

You brushed blonde locks from where they hung, admiring the way they pulled back and then flopped back into place. Every part of him that wasn’t poised and perfect in public was raw and unfiltered with you, its own treasure chest—its contents sacred and beautiful—that only you had the key to open.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer and gasping softly as you felt him press to your entrance, hot and leaking with precum.

“I’ve just been at a loss of words,” you admitted.

“Am I that charming?” He raised a dark blonde brow, his slightly tense expression from being pressed against your heat giving him a sinfully enticing look that made your slick cunt throb. That oversensitivity was still there, but not as insistent, not as sharp and weak enough so pleasure could slink back in front.

You used your heels against his lower back to push him inside of you, inhaling sharply from the sudden stretch as he intruded the warmth of your body. He waited for you to relax, whispering soft praises against the skin of your lips as he fought the impossible urge to snap his hips into you.

“You just proposed,” you shook, moaning softly when he finally began to move steadily within you. Your cunt flexed around him, relaxed enough to welcome him further and then gripped with a pressure that made your stomach coil in heat. Your body was already loose and pliant from your first orgasm, so it was easy for him to brush against those spots inside of you that seemed to fan gentle flames back to life again. “O-of course I would be at a loss of words. You’re not that charming.”

It was a jest filled with delight that you were used to delivering to him, even in the blaze of heat.

But he hummed in reproach, sliding a hand into the hair at your nape, pulling back sharply to expose more of your skin to him. You signed up for that. Walked right into it. And then you paid for it when his other hand gripped your hips, tilted them upwards to sink further into you, the skin of his abs suddenly able to brush against your clit.

You choked on a moan, biting your lip to stifle your voice, and dug your nails into his back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, a sharp tsk before you felt him use the grip in your hair to angle your gaze to his.

“Don’t lie to me when I’m fucking you, beautiful girl.”

Oh god.

Your cunt fluttered in response, your body shaking from his words and thrusts, a whimper squeaking from your throat.

He smiled softly in response, slanting his lips against yours and making a home in your mouth as you struggled to keep up with his rhythm. Between the fluid thrusts of his hips, the thick cock stretching your cunt, and your clit tingling with each smack of skin against it, you were lightheaded—mind swimming as he showered you again with that overwhelming intensity of his affection.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe as he looked down at you. His forehead already had a light sheen of sweat, and your eyes traced along the soft hairs that began to cling to his hairline. You trailed your hands from his back, sliding them down the muscular planes of his chest and in between the spaces of his abs before your eyes fell on the mesmerizing motion of his hips, his cock working you in and out—thick and glistening—accompanied by the sound of his ragged breath above you.

“Look at me,” he demanded, voice low and serious, pulling your gaze to him immediately to take in his wild expression. Thin rings of burnt-umber crazed, wet lips slightly parted, a ruddy color on his cheeks, and a subtle crease in his brow as he tried to focus. “Good girl. Perfect. Eyes on me. Never look away from me, do you understand?” You nodded sharply at his demand, electrifying pleasure zinging up and down your spine from his words. Your voice was stuck in your throat, too tight to speak but loose enough to let every wanton moan fall through as his pace began to pick up and his strokes began to deepen. He shook his head, more to himself and panting harshly as he opened his mouth to speak. “I want to be gentle and—”

“Give me everything,” you interrupted, scratching against the tightness of your throat and curling around a whine as the whispers of a second orgasm began to echo in your ears. “Give it all to me Kento, please.”

Suddenly, Kento was bending your knees towards your chest, pushing down hard with his lips against yours and pumping into you with an intensity that made your toes curl and you yelp into his mouth. His cock was making a home inside of you, brushing upwards into sensitive spots that made you keen, rubbing his pelvic bone hard against your clit so that you could do nothing but moan shamelessly into his mouth.

Vaguely you were thankful that Ulani wasn’t older. That she wasn’t aware enough to wake up in curiosity in the middle of the night from sounds that sounded odd to her and to ask you the next morning why mommy was begging.

It wasn’t long until the heat in your stomach had become too much, a gentle warmth now a raging inferno, coiling and bubbling with pleasure that made your thighs tense against the pressure of his hands that pressed them down to your chest. Your pussy throbbed—pulsed and squeezed him in warning, your breath becoming a staccato of a melody that he had memorized so well as you dug crescent moons into his back.

“Am I going to make you cum?” he panted before the words could escape your lips.

“Yes!” you squeaked, tense like a rubber band, taut and gasping beneath him. He brushed wet lips against your own and trailed them down your neck before licking the salty skin in a way that had you stuttering against the punctuation of his thrusts.

“Who’s going to make you cum?” he hissed along the column of your neck.

“You—you Kento!” He groaned softly from your response, a moan carrying along the undercurrent of his panting as you squeezed tighter and tighter around him. You had no time to warm him because suddenly your body was pulling tight, your muscles twitching in response and your back arching as that coil unraveled quickly inside your stomach, exploding to shoot pleasure inside of you hot and overwhelming. You bit your lip as you moaned with your orgasm, your cunt thrumming with the hammering in your chest.

“That’s my good girl. Take everything you want,” he whispered into your neck, kissing the burning skin as you came down from your high.

His thrusts slowed to a stop, offering a short break in intensity as you took in the panting of both your bodies. He released his hold on your legs, leaning down to brush soft lips against your own, bleeding love and anticipation into your mouth before he pulled you up onto your hands and knees, the coolness of the sheets offering a refreshing cushion to your sweaty skin.

You bit past the overstimulation when you felt him slide inside you again; even though you were satisfied and lax from an orgasm, every nerve in your body felt as if it had been exposed to the open air. You trembled against him—shuddered from the feel of his large hands sliding from your shoulder blades and down your back before they dug into the flesh of your hip. He gave you no warning, thrusting once, twice, and then a third time before falling back into the same steady rhythm as before.

Fighting against overstimulation was always a challenge at first, it was sharp and almost impossible to push through, but you always held onto that faint glimmer of pleasure each time. And slowly, with each brush of his cock against that spongy spot inside of you, that overstimulation got softer and softer, more malleable for you to push past to take root of pleasure as your breath quickened and your skin began to overheat.

The press of his lips between your shoulder blades felt like a cool balm to your hot skin that made you sigh, your back arching slightly, your head leaning back towards the ceiling as your cunt throbbed around his penetrating girth.

“Stunning,” he whispered and then carded a hand your hair so you could finally open your eyes and take in the mirror of your vanity in front of you.

He was behind you, with sweaty skin and a muscular torso undulating with every thrust, his hair disheveled, his eyes heavy with want and determination. And there you were on your hands and knees, sweaty creamy brown skin, full breasts swaying with each press of his hips, curls loose and frizzy and still adorned with cherry blossoms that had begun to fall onto the sheets where your fingers were bunched.

“Look how beautiful you are, darling,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. You both had done this so many times before. You had gotten used to looking at yourself in the mirror when he fucked you. The mortification of looking at yourself moaning and dazed wasn’t as prominent as it used to be. But the sight of his serious gaze always took a moment to adjust to. “So beautiful. The mother of my child. The only woman I will ever love. My fiancé.”

You moaned at his words and tightened around him, instantly lighting a fire in your veins that made your heart pump faster, made your skin tingle, and made the shreds of exploded pleasure in your belly from your last orgasm curl back into itself to form a ball again.

“My fiancé,” he whispered again, kissing along your shoulder, biting against the saltiness of your skin. He was losing himself, sinking further into delirium and salaciousness as his thrusts grew sharper, his grip on your waist tightened, and his teeth began to dig into every expanse of skin he could reach. You welcomed the pain, welcomed the sight of red blooming on your skin in the mirror that would darken over time.

“Kento—” you began to say, throat dry.

“Say it,” he demanded, leaving no room for argument as he emphasized his request with a powerful thrust.

“Your fiancé,” you whispered back, shuddering from the words on your tongue, whimpering against the increased onslaught of his hips and yelping when you felt coarse fingertips reach down to rub your clit. You were going to cum, it was unavoidable with every stroke of his cock against that spongy wall inside of you. You just needed more. More of his thrusts. More of his fingers stroking your clit. More of his voice in your ear.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, he adjusted your position so that the mirror only showed the side profile of your bodies, giving you a better view of the rivulets of muscle on his side and his thick cock shiny from slick as he railed you into the mattress. He pressed against your shoulder blades, your body giving with his touch so you could relax your chest into the sheets and arch your back. The sight made his eyes roll into the back of his head before he turned your head so your gaze was forced to look at your reflection in the mirror.

“Say it again.”

“Your fiancé,” you moaned softly, your thighs beginning to tremble from the force of his thrusts and the circle of his fingers on your clit. You fluttered around him, gushing slick onto his cock as your walls tightened from the force of one final orgasm that was leeching from your skin. And soon it was right there, right there and hot and loud and—

“Oh Ken, I’m close. I’m gonna cum!”

He moaned, a sound so rare that it somehow made the orgasm grow stronger, his hips thrusting against that spot that was screaming for more. “I feel you baby. Let it out, take what you want. Cum on my cock for me, love.”

You moaned wantonly, arching your back more so that he could hit you deeper, sharper, fluid and firm against your g-spot over and over and over until it all happened at once. That one stroke against your walls, that final harsh roll of his fingers on your clit, that drip of sweat from his hair onto your back, the ethereal sight of crushed cherry blossoms in your hair, and the flicker of your ring in the mirror had you furrowing your brow—opening your mouth and hiccupping on a gasp as your orgasm washed over you. You were lightheaded with pleasure, delirious as you moaned through the electrifying buzz in your stomach.

Your body was taut like a wire, cunt like a vice and gushing around his cock even as he dug through your sudden grip to claim an orgasm of his own.

Maybe it was the frequency of these encounters or simply your own uninhibited nature after you had been fucked to orgasm a few times in one sitting, but as you panted through gasping moans, watching your body slide back and forth on the sheets from his relentless thrusts, your throat took on a life of its own.

“Cum inside of me,” you whimpered, tightening your fingers in the sheets as you watched him loll his head back in satisfaction from your words. “Please, please, please Kento. Give me your cum…fill me up!”

Kento cursed harshly from behind you, leaning down to bite at the skin between your shoulder blades, and in the mirror you watched him give you three more strokes before his eyes rolled back, his jaw went slack, and his fingers dug into your hips as he groaned deep and shook as he spilled inside of you.

He collapsed against you, his breath warm and inviting as he whispered a soft ‘I love you’ against the back of your neck before apologizing from his weight. From the way his body shook, he probably wouldn’t be able to move anytime soon. But you didn’t mind; it grounded you into the present—brought your soul slowly back into your body.

The puffs of his breath against your skin was comforting, and the feeling of him softening inside you was an odd sensation that you welcomed. As you glanced at the mirror, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his form against yours.

You were flushed and sweaty. Your cheek was pressed and pillowed against the sheets. Your hair frizzy and tangled with white petals. He turned his head, pressing his ear to your shoulder blade, his face away from you in the mirror. Yet, you could still take in the beautiful messiness of his hair, the sharp perfection of his undercut, and the quick rise and fall of his muscular torso. That satisfying ache began to bloom deep within your bones, a delicious aftermath of being thoroughly and expertly fucked that only Kento knew how to deliver.

Your eyes followed the movement of his hand on your hips, watched as it slid up the sheets before settling on top of your left hand. His fingers intertwined with yours, curling both your hands into a tight fist. In the mirror, the flicker of your ring stood out brightly, and as your vision began to blur again with tears, your mouth curled into a gentle smile.

“Love, you have to take it off before bed.”

“No,” you responded firmly, your eyes fixated on the ring on your finger. You were too tired for a shower, and Kento just as exhausted, skipped his usual aftercare routine with you this time, opting instead to clean you up, put a shirt on you, and throw your bonnet on your head. “What’s the harm in wearing it to bed?”

“There are risks,” he began, voice leaking indifference as he lay next to you, his cheek pressed into his pillow as he shot a naturally narrow gaze at you. “Injury and—”

“Compile a PowerPoint presentation and submit it to me. I’m too tired to hear excuses.”

He chuckled harshly, gravely with the beginnings of sleep. He pulled you close, breathing in your scent as you rested your cheek against the warmth of his naked chest. The room fell into silence, minutes stretching out as Kento’s eyes grew heavy under the thick curtain of his hair.

“Ken?” you called out softly. He hummed, stroking a thumb down your back to let you know he was listening. “Can we have a small wedding?”

“We can have whatever you wish.”

His response made warmth blossom in your chest, your heart thrumming sharply as you traced your finger along the stone on your finger. “I don’t talk to my mother’s side of the family. And after my father died before my birth, my mother cut off his entire side. I don’t really have anyone besides Ome and Rory. But I know you have lots of family and I want them to be there. But it doesn’t have to be too big. I have modest savings but I don’t want to overdo it—”

“My love,” he interrupted, his eyes closed but thumb still stroking your back. “Our families will be there. Our friends will be there. We can have the wedding wherever you want, whenever you want. I have more than enough money for you, me, Ulani, and her grandchildren. As long as I get to officially make you mine, you will want for nothing.”

You swallowed hard, unable to hold back the small smile that formed on your lips as his words echoed in your mind.

“Are you trying to flex your bank account, Kento? I know you have a couple mil stored away, but try not to brag.”

His laughter filled the room, loud and sharp, his pearly white smile shining down at you as he opened the eye not pushed into his pillow to gaze at you. His chest shook from his laughter, hands pulling you impossibly closer to his warmth.

“Stop teasing and let me love you.”

You didn’t bother to fight the blush that had erupted on your cheeks from his effortless words. It was like a second skin to him, to love you so thoroughly.

“There has to be something you want,” you tried to pry from him, eyes widening in delight when he let out a dramatic sigh against you.

He was silent for a minute, then another, and yet another to the point where you were convinced he had fallen asleep when—

“I will pay the most for the food. It better be good enough to lick the plate when I’m finished.” You rolled your eyes but giggled as you draped your arm around his waist. “I won’t dance. I’ll have a first dance with you and my mother but nothing more.”

“Not if I get you drunk enough,” you teased.

“No.”

You grunted in playful frustration against him before falling silent again, the gentle static of Ulani’s baby monitor filling the room. Your eyes drifted back to your ring, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Ken?” you called out softly, voice weak and reluctant.

He chortled into the silk of your bonnet, clearly tired but too content to reject you. “Yes, my love.”

“Who helped you pick it out?”

“Are you suggesting that I couldn’t have chosen it without any help?” he asked, slightly affronted and delivering a pinch to your side even though he was chuckling again for what felt like the nth time that night.

“Did your father help?” you asked, not bothering to dignify his last question with a response. “What about Yuji?”

“Yuji means well, but he doesn’t know what a carat is, love. I picked it out. Go to sleep.”

You pursed your lips, considering your next option. “Geto?”

“He doesn’t know you that well. Love, enough with the questions,” he pleaded.

“Gojo then?”

The mere mention of his name made him smack the skin of your ass, a lively shriek shaking around a laugh that escaped from your lips. He grabbed onto the stinging flesh, yanking you closer before leaning down to swallow your giggles. It stole your breath and you curled your fingers against the skin of his chest to anchor yourself. His lips were firm, insistent, and final before he pulled away, giving you a lighthearted glare.

“I picked out the ring. No one else. If you ever breathe Gojo’s name after I’ve had an orgasm, I might just leave you. Now go to bed.”

You rolled your eyes up at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before relaxing back into your pillow. He settled back into his own and you traced over the handsome features of his bedhead, closed eyes, and puckered lips before they were opening to call out your name.

“Yes?” you responded, fingers tracing idly around a pink nipple. He shuddered from your touch.

He opened his eye, deep irises taking you in; the softness of your skin, the old t-shirt on your body, the black silk of your bonnet, and the sliver of a curl that poked from the side, a white petal tangled in the strand.

“I love you.”

And you whispered it back to him free of mirth this time and filled with an affection that only he would ever have.

***

Luck was on his side. It wasn’t as crowded as he walked with you and Ulani the next day. The air was still warm even for late April. His courage seemed to have multiplied overnight, probably from your acceptance of his proposal or maybe just because you made him feel stronger with your presence alone.

When he settled on the grass, folded his legs, and sunk his fingers into the freshly cut blades, his throat was tight, but loose enough to let him breathe. The grass slid against the sides of his knuckles as he took a deep breath.

“You can tell him about your day.”

“I went for a run this morning,” Kento spoke, immediately annoyed with himself but using your words in his head to press on. “Broke my four-mile record. Then I had breakfast with my family. And I came here, and I…” his voice wavered, a sting in his eyes catching him off guard. “Kaya is doing well. She’s smiling more. Geto is taking care of her, and Aiko is a fierce whirlwind just like you. She’s thriving. We’re making sure of it.”

“Tell him that Ulani is starting to eat more solid foods and how she loves yogurt but isn’t a fan of peas.”

“Ulani came on July 15th. She has my eyes and y/n’s hair and gets into everything she can grab. She’ll be speaking actual words soon, and I…I wish you could have met her. She’s beautiful, and laughs as loud as her mother and takes in the world just like me. She loves yogurt and she hates peas. She’s growing up so fast. And you should have been here. You should have—” Kento’s voice trailed off as he tightly shut his eyes, so tight that the sting of tears he had forced away collected at the edge of his lashes.

“I should be angry with you,” Kento started again, a trace of frustration seeping into his tone before he pushed it aside and took a deep breath. “I was angry with you. But as usual, I can never stay mad at you. I hate it. I hate how you make me see and then die so I can’t throttle you…But if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have done a thing. If it weren’t for her, I would have burned the deed and never looked back. But she redid the floors, painted the walls, and put your plants back. That stupid plant in your office is still alive and that stupid Fiddle Leaf is larger than ever. It will be a pain to maintain.”

He drew in a shallow breath, exhaling the bitterness from the pit of his belly into the warm air as his heart settled into a normal rhythm from beating too fast in anger.

“But she made your sweet bread. Batch after batch, until she got it right, and it tasted just like yours. She made a personalized menu and created an ad and it’s not fair that you won’t be here to witness the reopening in a few months. It’s not fair…” he trailed off again, emotions flaring inside of him, choking him and making him stop short to take a deep breath and then another as he blinked away the faint tears in his eyes. “But I hope you can see Ulani while she grows. I hope you can see how happy I am…how happy y/n makes me. How much I love her.”

Jagged shards of his grief cut the inside of his chest with each breath he took, just as raw as that first day, just as painful. But they were closing up at a faster pace, healing quickly enough to make the pouring sadness from the open wounds feel less overwhelming.

I miss you. I’m sorry we fought that day. Forgive me.

He wanted to say it, he did. But his throat was too tight—he wasn’t ready. And that’s okay. You had shown him, with patience and a forgiving air, that it was okay not to be ready. But one day he would be. And until then, he could say what came to mind, or simply sit in silence and just…be.

A few moments passed, the breeze swirling around him, picking up in intensity before he spoke up again.

“I also came to say…that I’m engaged. It took me months to gather the courage to propose, and she broke the rules of every manual on how to do things properly. But it finally happened during Sakura season…and she had cherry blossoms in her hair…and was trying to tell a joke as usual.” He smiled softly to himself, relaxing the tension of his grip on the grass, faint memories echoing in his mind.

“If you don’t change your hairstyle, all the girls will think you’re an emo boy. And you’ll grow to be an emo man with an emo life and—”

“Enough. My hair is fine and it takes more than hair to build a relationship.”

“You’ll be fifty before you even get engaged.”

“Who do you take me for?”

“An old man.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Fine! If you wind up engaged before thirty-five, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

“Fifty.”

“Deal!”

Kento rolled his eyes. “I didn’t forget about our bet in high school. You owe me fifty dollars. I’ll be sure to collect my winnings from Kaya when I see her.” The corners of his lips twitched, the smile threatening to grow wider as he listened to himself.

There was nothing more he could say. While his throat was no longer tight, more words eluded him, and he wouldn’t force them. He had a lifetime to share more.

“All done?” your voice called from next to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up at you, your unwavering gaze a source of strength and resilience. Ulani was strapped to your chest, her legs kicking freely, a teething toy in her mouth and a beanie on her head to protect her from the wind. Her curious eyes took in the towering trees around her before settling on her father, a wide smile spreading across her face.

In that moment, the weight of grief washed away, those jagged shards of pain slowly mending to the point that he could breathe again. He stood up, ready to join you and you watched him look down at the small nameplate in front of Yu’s tree. The air was still, an eerie calmness that made Kento feel as if the shift in the breeze was Yu throwing that stupid mischievous smirk in his direction from the sight of his best friend and his new family.

Kento wasn’t a spiritual man, but some part of him believed that Yu could see him and his family, that he could see Kaya and his daughter, and that he would be happy with the way you turned the bakery around.

Part of Kento believed it. He had to believe it. Yu was too powerful of a person to fade away with his ashes that rested in the soil beneath his tree.

So, he took that belief with him, tucked it deep down within his chest as he interlaced his fingers with yours and felt the cool metal of your ring against his skin.

“Did he respond?” you asked him, nudging his arm softly with your elbow. He looked down at you before pressing a fond kiss to your lips, smiling against you when he felt his daughter pull at his coat. He pulled away and then leaned down to press a series of kisses to Ulani’s cheek, her curls brushing against his nose as she squealed in her own laughter, satisfied with the attention and babbling for more.

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he offered his silent answer to your question, one you had asked a few times before. And he smiled, that special smile reserved only for you, before leading you away from Yu’s tree and back along the streets of Nakameguro.

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hard-core-super-star · 1 year ago

Text

rubix's masterlist [find my series masterlist here]

disclaimer: don't forget to read the warnings on each individual fic [minors do not interact with my smut fics]

kate bishop

come back home...(i'm afraid of disappearing) aka kate comes home after a rough night out patrolling the city to find you waiting for her. despite the argument the two of you had earlier in the day, you do everything in your power to comfort your girlfriend.

i think i love you still aka you've spent four years trying to understand the complicated mess of thoughts that make up kate bishop. after dealing with the pain of her absence, and the more significant pain of her return, you finally get it right.

my ears fill with the sound of you kneeling [SMUT] aka you and your girlfriend explore a slightly unconventional form of comfort after you catch her slipping into her self-destructive tendencies again.

no such things as good grief aka you always knew being a superhero came with a long list of dangers but it turns out you weren't quite ready to deal with someone else suffering for your mistakes.

you can see it with the lights out aka enduring a storm and a subsequent power outage with kate bishop by your side might not be the worst thing in the world.

bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire [SMUT] aka a failed mugging leads to you discovering kate's biggest secret...and her finding out yours.

can you see right through me? aka you're notoriously bad at archery and somehow even worse at keeping yourself together around a certain kind-eyed archer.

for your love, i'll do whatever you want [SMUT] aka omega heats are incredibly unbearable, thankfully kate knows just what to do to make you feel better.

i'm all skeleton and melody aka kate calls for backup when she realizes how underprepared she is to help you deal with your grief over losing may.

searching for redemption [SMUT] aka a multiversal anomaly grants you and your girlfriend the opportunity to explore some of your more...intense desires.

i wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters [SMUT] aka things take a surprising turn when kate's alternate self shows up in the middle of an ongoing [slightly public] battle between you and your archer.

what your hands were made for [SMUT] aka kate ruins a cute moment by getting a little too excited about you wearing her hoodie.

make you mine this season aka a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

kissing in the crossfire aka you and kate are better off apart. unfortunately, you can't stay away from each other long enough to realize some puzzle pieces aren't meant to fit together.

caught myself aka kate's competitiveness gets in the way of her seeing you for who you truly are.

ain't that the kicker aka the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that.

underneath my skin aka it takes a few tries but after kate shows up unannounced at wanda's cabin, you finally make things right.

when it rains aka when the threat of relapsing rears its head, kate does her best to support you...even when you try to push her away.

why we ever [SMUT] aka forgiveness comes in many different shapes. thankfully, you and kate find the one that works best for both of you.

hold you in my arms tonight [SMUT] aka kate's spending another late night at the office and you do what you always do best: distract her enough so she'll pay attention to you instead

i bet it stung aka kate tries her best to be there for everyone but sometimes, she messes up.

an inch away from more than just friends [SMUT] aka falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.

hailee steinfeld

frequency of all we know... aka you and your girlfriend share an intimate moment during the Vanity Fair afterparty.

it's you that i've been missing aka a quiet morning with hailee leads to an invitation to move in with her…and the creation of her new song.

coming up for air aka when you're drowning under the weight of your thoughts, hailee becomes the life jacket that keeps you afloat.

sneaking out into town, holding hands, just killing time. aka amidst the chaos of the across the spider-verse press tour, and the unavoidable PR stunts she has to do to cover up your relationship, your girlfriend finds comfort in you.

guess we lied [SMUT] aka you and your ex had sworn you would never let each other back into each other's bed. it looks like you both lied.

karma is the girl on the screen coming straight home to me aka having to do interviews with your girlfriend comes with its own set of challenges. thankfully, you always have each other's back.

stars by the pocketful aka going to crappy award shows was never something you found enjoyable. lucky for you, your girlfriend takes it upon herself to change that.

my thoughts will echo your name aka you meet your biggest crush at a party and let her slip past your fingers. thankfully, your feelings aren’t as one-sided as you thought.

remind me i'm alive aka your day off takes a sudden turn when your best friend's sister decides to finally make a move after silently pining after you for far too long.

honeycomb aka you decide to let your kids help you bake a cake for your wife and cute chaos ensues.

shock to your system aka your move to new york isn't as panic-free as you would have hoped but thankfully, your girlfriend knows just what to do to help.

with friends like you, who needs friends? aka you had always said relationships weren't for you but a certain brunette seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

meet me there, i'll give you your roses aka just because you two are supposed to be keeping your relationship a secret doesn't mean you can't have some fun with it.

one step forward, three steps back aka when hailee tries to convince you to ride the publicity wave and appear in her new music video, you’re forced to accept the truth of your feelings for her.

deep blue, you painted me golden aka the ups and downs that come with secretly dating under the watchful eye of the media prove to be too much for you and hailee...so you decide to come up with a solution yourselves instead of giving in to the chaos.

keep on coming back for more aka you don't really like surprises...unless they involve a certain brunette and your favorite song.

get her back! aka you and hailee try to get your relationship back on track while shooting the sunkissing music video. it’s easier said than done though, especially since the line between love and hate blurs more and more every day.

sinking deeper into you [SMUT] aka your girlfriend is the sweetest person you've ever met and yet you can't help but try to get her out of her shell for a night.

the sweetest torture one could bear aka when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

like words left unsaid aka hailee can't ever seem to keep her eyes off of you and you can't really complain about that.

my rotten mind and how much it worships you aka you and hailee slowly figure out your feelings for each other and start to do something about them instead of arguing.

you're my morning sun aka a look through your fondest memories featuring your wife and the chaos that comes with forming a family.

is it cool that i said all that? aka doing interviews with your girlfriend is all fun and games until someone gets too comfortable with their questions.

a kiss to every scar [SMUT] aka hailee sets out to show you the ropes of acting on a tv show...unfortunately, your very obvious crush on her distracts her enough to stop being so professional.

make every mistake aka you run into your ex at the vanity fair party, almost a full year after your breakup, and are forced to accept some hard truths.

yelena belova

passive-aggressive magic tricks aka a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

wanda maximoff + natasha romanoff

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [SMUT] aka your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

push me on the counter, call me princess [SMUT] aka you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

losing focus [SMUT] aka as unexpected as it is, you become a permanent part of wanda and natasha's relationship.

brought you together so nice [SMUT] aka natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

carol danvers

bare your soul 'til it's naked [SMUT] aka you and carol experiment with switching up your usual roles and accidentally discover something new.

miscellaneous

i'll keep it secret if you let me get a taste [SMUT; selfcest] aka an unfortunate run-in with a powerful coven gives kate a chance to satisfy certain curiosities about herself.

cross that line again [SMUT; selfcest] aka kate calls yelena for help fixing the mess she created. things don't exactly go to plan and the russian is forced to face some uncomfortable truths about her desires.

the good, the bad, and the dirty [kinktober special] aka kate might be young and inexperienced but she's a damn good negotiator. so, in search of a merger that will catapult bishop security to the top of the food chain, she shares her most prized possession with the other CEOs.

if you're weak, come to me [SMUT; wandanat] aka wanda gets injured during a mission and natasha is TOTALLY fine with that (not). they seek each other's comfort in the only way they know how.

sudden desire [SMUT; bishova] aka after yelena dissapears on an unknown mission for a month, kate decides to take things into her own hands and encourage her to come home. things don't go exactly as planned for her on the blonde's return.

#masterlist

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thoseboysinblue · 2 years ago

Text

If the World was Ending

Christian Pulisic x reader

Your ex, Christian shows up unannounced hoping to find some comfort in you after facing some rough times.

Word count: 3800+

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swearing, angst

Requested: No

A/N: This was inspired by the song "If the World was Ending" by JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels. It may be terrible and I'm not sure I like it, but here it is.

You are watching the match from the comfort of your home, your laptop resting in your lap as you attempted to get some work done as well. They were having a terrible season, and tonight their Champions League dreams had also ended. You are wearing an old Chelsea hoodie which belonged to a boy you once loved, and part of you still did. However, he now stood in the middle of the pitch, looking tired, defeat washing over his beautiful features.

You met Christian shortly after he signed for Chelsea, the American quickly stealing your heart. You moved in together when rumors of a lockdown due to Covid swirled, neither of you wanting to be alone for the indefinite future. Your romance had been somewhat of a whirlwind at the beginning, both so swept up in each other that you didn't really even know what was happening. However, after two years together, it all ended, fairly amicably, neither of you to blame, but it was evident you weren't meant to be together, so you split up.

You would be lying if you said you didn't still think about him, you lost count of the number of times you started to reach out to him, when things weren't going well for him at Chelsea, when he helped the US qualify for the World Cup, when he scored what ended up being the goal that pushed them out of the group stages and he subsequently got injured, and again when they had failed to make it to the next round after a heartbreaking loss to the Netherlands. The thought also crosses your mind tonight, but ultimately like those other times, you decide against it.

What you didn't know was that with each of those events in his life, as well as countless others, he wanted more than anything to call you, he spent hours searching through notifications for any sign of you, but never found it, and never found the courage within himself to make the first move.

When the two of you broke up, you had agreed to stay friends, and you did for a while. You still attended some events with him, made it to the occasional match, and continued supporting him from afar. On occasion, he also reached out to you, seeking a particular type of comfort only you seemed to be able to provide. But for the last year, you had no contact with him, both of you thinking it was for the best to let the other move on.

A knock at your door dragged you from your thoughts, it was late, very few people were on the guest list for your appartment, and an even smaller number knew the code to get up to your floor, thinking it must be a neighbor needing something, you open the door, surprised to see a completely broken brown haired, brown eyed boy standing in front of you.

"Oh" you whispered quietly, looking into those eyes you used to get lost in for hours on end. "Hey" he croaks out, "I'm sorry, I left the stadium, heading home, but somehow ended up here, I wasn't even sure you still lived here until I found out I was still on the list, I don't want to bother you, I shouldn't have come over, I know it's been a long time, I just," he rambled, looking down at his feet, his hand rubbing over the back of his neck, a clear sign to you that he was nervous.

"Christian, stop," you reach out to place your hand on his jaw, causing him to look back up at you and sigh, instinctively relaxing into your touch. "Come in, please" you whisper, moving to the side and allowing him entrance into your apartment, a place that was as nearly as familiar to him as his own home.

With the door closed behind him, you pull him into a tight embrace. His face burrying into your neck as he breathes in your scent, a scent he didn't realize he had missed so much until just now. One of your hands settles into his hair while the other gently rubs his back, two things that you'd done thousands of times before tonight.

Quiet sobs escape his lips as you feel a few tears fall against your neck. You pull way from him, tilting his head up and wiping the tears away with your thumbs. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips, "sorry," he mumbles "force of habit."

"It's ok," you whisper back, offering a reassuring smile which he doesn't reciprocate. "Would you like a beer or something?" you offer. "Tea would actually be nice," he says, his tone still very flat. He kicks off his shoes and follows you into the kitchen. You quickly grab the remote and turn off the post match coverage that was still playing, "sorry, force of habit" you smile reluctantly.

You fix tea for the both of you while he watches in silence, sliding his cup across the counter to him, you make your way over to the couch and sit down, him following close behind you. He takes a sip of the tea you'd made for him and his head falls back against the cushions, "some things never change" he sighs, "I've still never figured out how your tea is so much better than mine."

You stay quiet for a few more minutes, giving him time to hopefully settle in, "do you want to talk about tonight?" you ask him quietly. He shakes his head. "Ok, do you want to talk about anything?" you try again, still unsure why he showed up at your door, although, you have a pretty good idea of where this will end up. "Not really, it's all shit right now, so I wouldn't even know where to start," he says as he takes another sip of tea, "I shouldn't have just shown up here like this, I just didn't want to be alone, and you've always been the one person I could count on when it felt like the world was ending."

"Christian, I" you start but he stops you. "I know, y/n, I know we didn't work out for a reason, and I'm not here trying to sort through any of that, I can leave if you want me to. I know me showing up like this is probably the last thing you want or need."

"I don't want you to leave," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You know he needs you more than anything or he wouldn't be here, and you have never been able to deny him, a part of you still needing to be needed by him. You turned on a movie, something he'd probably seen a hundred times, understanding it's what would help him to unwind.

Quietly, you stand up, taking your now empty cups to the kitchen. Your eyes staying focused on him as you wash them, watching him sitting on your couch with his head leaned back against the cushions. He looks so broken, so fragile to you that it breaks your heart.

When the two of you broke up, there were no hard feelings really, you'd simply grown apart, both of you needing time to figure out who you were and what you really wanted out of life. You had been lonely of course, you'd lost your best friend, you had been really close with his family, especially his sister, and the guys you had become so accustomed to being around every day just vanished, but ultimately this gave you the time and space you needed to really work on yourself, and for that you were thankful.

But looking at him right now, you knew what he was here for, this had happened a few times after your breakup, he would show up, needing you, and you didn't have it in you to send him away. So you'd sleep together. It wasn't meaningless, how could it be meaningless with someone you'd once been in love with, but it was easy, comfortable, and there were no awkward morning after regrets. After the last time, you really thought you were both done with each other for good though, especially since it had been over a year with no contact whatsoever.

He'd come home with you that last night, a fit of jealousy taking over him when he thought you were out with someone else, not giving you time to explain that it was someone from work, whose wife also happened to be accompanying you. He had practically dragged you out of the club you were in, the two of you tumbling into the back of a taxi, barely able to keep your clothes on until you got into your apartment. He had fucked you on the counter you were now leaning against, saying he wanted to show you who you still belonged to, and to be fair, you did belong to him, part of you always would. The next morning, he placed a light kiss on your forehead and left, and you hadn't heard from him since.

It was then that he realized that his behavior was toxic, he knew you had both agreed that you weren't right for each other, but he also knew he didn't want anyone else to have you either. After that night, he was painfully aware that he needed to take the time to actually work on himself, figure out who he was as an individual before trying to find his way back to you.

And now here he is, clearly at his most vulnerable point, barely a shadow of the fun-loving, happy guy you knew. You know what he wants and needs from you, and even though you know it will quite possibly break your heart, you still love him enough to give him what he needs. Right now, what he needs is to forget everything that's going on, and maybe, just for the night, he needs to be able to remember what you once had.

You wander back to the couch, grazing your hand over the top of his head as you pass by, sitting down a plate of his favorite cookies on the coffee table before handing one to him, also taking one for yourself as you sit down close to him, tucking your knees under you. He hums at the taste, memories flooding his mind as his eyes flutter closed. "These have always been my favorite," he says his voice barely above a whisper, giving you the only hint of a smile you've seen since he's been here. "I know, I got the urge to make them earlier, now I guess I know why," you offer him a kind smile as he shifts to rest his hand over your legs.

Without realizing, your hand moves towards his arm, lightly tracing over the tattoos that you had once adored so much. Eventually, his own body betrays him and he turns to lay with his head in your lap. He cannot explain why he needs you as much as he does, but right now, he doesn't have the energy to fight it.

He's laying on his back, one arm draped over his stomach while you still trace soft shapes over it, your other hand finds it's way to his hair, gently scratching at his scalp, hoping to help ease his mind in whatever way you can. "You can talk to me you know, I do still care about everything that's going on with you, I know it's been a rough patch lately and I should've reached out to you, I just thought maybe you had someone else and I didn't want to interfere."

He shakes his head softly, "no, there's no one else," he whispers.

"What about you? Is there someone that's going to walk through that door and want to kick my ass?"

You shake your head and notice a flicker of a smile on his lips before he starts to tell you everything that's been going on. You listen as he let's everything out, only nodding quietly or offering him your support and reminding him that most of these things are well beyond his control. As he keeps talking you feel worse and worse for not reaching out to him, especially the last time he had gotten injured, you knew when you saw it happen he would be devastated that his excellent run of form was yet again ruined with an injury, but you still didn't have it in you to call him.

After he finishes talking, he seems lighter, like he just needed to get all of the thoughts of his head and spoken in front of someone he knew he could trust not to pass any kind of judgement. "Thank you for listening to me, I know I just unloaded a whole lot of shit on you," he says, his expression a bit softer. "It's fine, Chris, um, Christian, I promised you a long time ago I would always be here for whatever you need, and I don't plan on breaking that anytime soon," you sigh, your hand moving to caress the fine stubble on his jaw.

He leans up towards you, pressing a tentative kiss to your lips before pulling away to glance over your expression. He smiles slightly when you cup your other hand over the other side of his face and lean in to kiss him again.

He quickly changes positions, pulling you into his lap so that you are straddling him without ever breaking the kiss. He lets out a quiet moan as you deepen the kiss, dipping your tongue into his mouth as you roll your hips over him. His hands slip under your shirt and skim up and down your back. You both pull away from the kiss breathless as you stand up holding your hand out to him and leading him to your room.

Once inside your room he stops you, "y/n, you need to know this isn't why I came over here tonight."

"Oh, do you not want to?" you answer him, your eyes searching his features.

"No, of course I want to, it's just, I don't want you to think that's the only reason I'm here."

"Ok" you whisper, going up on your tiptoes to kiss him again. You tug at the hem of his shirt and he quickly breaks away from you to pull it over his head before he pulls your hoodie off of you, smirking when he finally realizes it's one of his, "I looked for that forever," he lets out a soft laugh. "Sorry" you grin at him. "No you're not, you forget I can tell when you're lying, y/n."

"You're right, I'm not sorry at all, it was one of my favorites, still is," you mutter against his lips as you both move towards the bed peeling off the rest of your clothes and leaving a trail on the floor.

You fall back onto the bed as crawls towards you, "that's a sight for sore eyes" he whispers as his eyes drag over your naked form. "You're still the prettiest girl I've ever seen" he smiles at you.

He settles between your legs, you can feel his hardened length pressing into your leg when he leans down to kiss you. His hand grazes over your breast as he rolls one of your nipples between his fingers causing you to gasp. He slides his hand down your body, applying soft pressure over your clit as he dips two fingers into your entrance. Your breath hitches in your throat as your hips lift to meet his movements before he quickly withdraws his fingers and sucks on them, humming at the taste of you.

You reach between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his dick and lining it up with your entrance, "I need you, y/n" he whispers against your jaw, "I know, Chris, I need you too" you let out a faint moan as he pushes into you.

"Fuck" he breathes out dropping his head against your shoulder, "I'm gonna need just a second" he groans as he feels you clench around him when you nod, trailing your hands up and down his back.

He starts rocking his hips into you agonizingly slow. "You feel so good, Christian, oh fuck" you moan, knowing he loves being praised. "Shit, y/n, you feel amazing baby, I didn't think I could ever forget what you feel like, but I swear it's better than I remember," he pants out, your heart fluttering at the use of the pet name he always called you.

He picks up the pace, thrusting into you deeper as his cock pounds into your g-spot over and over as he hitches your leg up higher over his waist. "This isn't going to last as long as I want it to," he grunts out, slowing his pace and sliding his fingers down to rub circles over your clit. "You gonna be able to cum for me baby?" he asks noticing the way you throw your head back against the pillows. "Yes" you moan out, "keep going, just like that, Chris, I'm close."

You clench around him as your orgasm approaches, his movements becoming sloppy, hips faltering as he is holding off as long as he can. "Come on, y/n, cum for me," he whispers into your ear as your eyes roll back in your head and your back arches off of the bed. As your orgasm hits you, you let out a loud moan of his name. He stills inside of you when he cums, your name falling from his lips with a whimper before he collapses on top of you.

"Jesus" he breathes out as you nod, your fingers scratching at the back of his neck while you both work to steady your breathing.

He rolls over to your side, pulling you in for a kiss before you head to the bathroom to clean up. When you return, he's pulled his boxers back on and is waiting for you with the covers pulled back. He tosses you his T-shirt and you pull it over your head before climbing into bed next to him.

He drags you closer to him, not happy with the space you left between the two of you. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the familiar sound of his heartbeat as he scratches your back.

"Y/N" he says quietly, his voice a bit shaky, "I know, Christian, I know" you breathe out, pressing a kiss to his chest as he presses one to the top of your head, "let's just go to sleep, we can talk in the morning."

The next morning you wake up and pull on a pair of shorts under Christian's t-shirt before making your way to the kitchen. As you are finishing up a stack of pancakes, Christian wanders in, shirtless with his joggers hanging loosely around his hips.

"Hi" he says, sliding a hand around your waist and kissing you softly on the neck. Your posture goes rigid under his touch. This is different from the past few times you've been together, this feels more like it did when you were dating and you are not quite sure what to think.

"Sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to, I just thought," he drops his hand from your waist and moves around to the other side of the counter, an unmistakable sadness in his eyes.

"It's ok, I just wasn't expecting you to be so friendly this morning" you say as you slide a plate of pancakes over to him.

"That's my fault," he glances up at you, "the other times, since we broke up, I was unfair to you, I realized that after the last time, that's why I didn't come back, I knew I had to get myself in a better spot first."

"Shit, that's good" he practically moans as he takes a bite of his pancakes causing you to let out a giggle.

"What?" he says looking up at you, swiping some syrup from his lip with his tongue. "I don't know if I should be offended that that's the loudest I've ever heard you moan" you chuckle.

He lets out laugh, "these are really good, but they are nothing compared to you," he winks at you.

"Easy, lover boy, you can lay off the charm school tactics," you grin at him, "do you have training or something to get to?"

"No, we've got the day off" he shrugs, "but I'll be out of your hair after breakfast."

"Chris, that's not what I meant, you can stay as long as you would like, I was just asking to make small talk."

"You've never been good at small talk, y/n" he chuckles taking another bite of his food.

"Yeah, well, neither have you," you smirk back at him.

"Listen, I'm just going to come out and say what I need to say to you," he says sitting down his fork and reaching out to place his hand over yours.

"I know we ended things because we weren't right for each other, but I can't help but wonder if it was just that those versions of us weren't right for each other, but maybe the people we are now are meant to be together. I've spent the last year or so working on myself, figuring out who I am. I've also had some really high highs and really low lows, and the only person I wanted to share any of that with was you. It's ok if you say no, but I just needed to tell you. Again, I'm sorry for just showing up, but you were on my mind when I left the stadium and I didn't even realize I was driving here until I saw your building, but I miss you and I miss what we had and I..."

You move to stand between his legs, cupping his face in your hands as you lean down to kiss him softly, "I've missed you too," you whisper against his lips, "so much, Christian, but are you sure it's not just because this is easy and comfortable? I don't want you to miss out on something greater because your settling for what's familiar."

"Y/N, I'm not settling for you, I'm saying I'm choosing you, you are the person I'd face the end of the world with if I knew it was coming, that's not settling," he says as he stands up, wrapping his arms around your waist, "please, please give me another shot to prove it to you."

"Ok" you whisper as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck.

"Ok?" he raises an eyebrow at you as you nod.

"I still love you, you know, that's never changed."

"I still love you too, Christian," you smile at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss.

Taglist:

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic imagine

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acesofspadess · 1 year ago

Text

The Lead Up

summary: the band grows closer together during their first few months at the X-factor

Worth The Risk Masterlist

Living with the boys was truly the best. They didn’t treat you any differently because you were a girl, it seemed like they tried a little harder to rough you up because you were a girl, and you always met their match.

There was around a month from boot camp- where the band was formed- from the first episode of the season, and another month after that where the episode that showed you forming would air.

During those months Simon had become a quick father to the group. He had a soft spot for you and everyone could tell. Through the time you were there you had some ups and downs. Your performance at Simon’s house was rough as Louis had arrived only 5 minutes prior and all of you were nervous that he wouldn't make it, or scared, as he was in hospital. You were both. Louis and you had become very close in the short time, it wasn’t like siblings, you didn’t know what it was, but you and Louis liked it so it didn’t matter. You and all the boys had really grown together. You, Harry, and Niall seemed to gravitate towards each other simply because you had all met prior to formation.

“My head is saying it's a risk,” Simon paused looking at you all. “But my heart is saying you deserve a shot, and that’s why it’s been difficult. So I’ve made a decision.” You all stood there arms wrapped around each other, waiting anxiously. “I’ve gone with my heart, you’re through.” It hit you all immediately as you jumped up and hugged each other before sprinting to Simon who was laughing softly. The boys followed you as you turned it into a group hug. No one could see through their tears of pure joy. You held Harry as he cried into his arm knowing exactly how he felt.

A day after the bootcamp episode aired you Louis and Harry decided to do a twitcam video. You had to admit Harry looked awfully cute with his beanie on. You sat on the opposite end of the bed of Louis before he was squishing your cheeks making you come over to him. The stream was filled with prank calls, Louis yelling and singing, and lots of laughing.

A few weeks later you had moved into the X-factor house. You had Beverly come and help move your stuff from the house into the new one- her college courses wouldn’t start for another month-. One thing you loved was that the boys wanted you to bunk with them, and you gladly agreed. There were three sets of bunk beds for you to sleep on. You opted for a bottom bunk and Beverly bought you a ‘privacy’ cover that would block out the view into your bunk, and you actually appreciated that.

Bentley was back at college so you didn’t see a lot of him, but you made sure to talk all the time. Nan and Pap ended up opening the bakery they always wanted and you were beyond estactic to see the photo - among with many others of you guys- in the letter they sent you.

Bentley did keep his promise and got your tag number tattooed across his left collar bone. He mailed some polaroids of you and him and you and Beverly to put up wherever you could. Of course there was insistent teasing from Liam and Louis about you and Bentley’s relationship, but it was truly platonic. He was your best friend.

It was crazy how much time had passed between the start of the show and now you guys were headed into the live shows. You had all decided to do some Video Diaries to let the fans in on how you guys were doing on show.

“Hi, we're One Direction.” Louis started the video sitting next to you. “This is our video diary.” you said after him. “You can come back here every week to find out what we’ve been up to, how we're feeling and everything that's going on.” Somehow during Harry's speech Niall and Louis started messing with his hair and you couldn't help but join. You were all essing sound until Liam got back on track.

“Alright what's happening this week? We've moved into the x-factor house which is really exciting and I’ve been waiting a long time for this." Everyone smiled at Liam as he had been through this before. “We've got a decent room in the house. It's not the biggest-” it seemed with that that everyone voiced their opinion on how bad the room was. “It's okay because we're all enjoying ourselves and all having a laugh.” You looked up to Zayn as he spoke, resting your head on his knees. “Sharing a room with 5 of your best friends.” Harry jokingly sapped and the rest of you joined in on mockery.

“We’ve been practising hard, uh, it's a good song. You lot like it?” they all voiced their opinions to you and you continued. “Yeah it's a good song, we really like the song.”

“I think we’ve had a lot of preparation now, the times ticking by and we just can't wait to get on the stage. Show everyone what we can do as a group.” you watched louis as he spoke with a small smile. “If you’ve got any questions to ask us just leave them down below and we'll get back to yah.” Liam closed out with all you pointing to the imaginary border below you. “See you guys.” Harry waved and you all waved shouting goodbyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Worth The Risk Masterlist

tags:

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive @maeflowers653 @purple9950 @forkmeniall @nathalielovesonedirection @hopsydaisy @shortie-niya

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deathsbestgirl · 1 year ago

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I absolutely adore reading your thoughts on txf, would you mind talking a little bit about the early s2 MSR dynamic? Because, for me, along with the s6 ship teasing it’s easily the most romantic period in the whole show. The flirting, the ✨ yearning ✨, the teasing. You know when it’s so obvious that two people have fallen for each other, and it’s only a matter of time before they start acting on those feelings? That’s the vibe that early s2 gives me.

thank you so much, that's really kind!!

i love season 6 & season 2 so much. they both have their own brand of angst & longing and they're so special.

mulder and scully are really best friends by the end of season 1. it takes so long for them to describe each other as "friend" — they're partners, but they both know they are important to each other.

little green men is especially my favorite here, like. the way they kick off the season and reintroduce us to mulder & scully is kind of brilliant. because they're not partners right now, they're assigned separately and it's so hard for them. mulder is always kind of monotone, but dd somehow still injects so much into. (like his facial expressions.) and there's something about this opening voiceover that feels very different from his others, to me.

we see mulder bored out of his mind, despondent. the x files were his entire life. they're all he cares about (because of samantha), and now scully too.

the first scene with scully kind of crushes me. i think i've posted about it before but !!!

scully has always felt a connection to the dead. she tells their stories, seeks justice for them. she's so aware that they are people. they lived and loved and dreamed and cried and feared. it only became more acute as she worked with mulder.

she's returned to teaching and here, she's overcome with those thoughts. she feels she has to pass this on to her students. they need to understand that every case is about people. they need to hold on to the human aspect, rather than letting it harden & disconnect them.

and then one of her students uses the word "spooky" about her. the first time she heard "mrs. spooky" she was kind of shaken. she had seen other agents be rough with mulder, she knew it wasn't the most friendly moniker. (i like to think in the pilot, she thought "spooky" was kind of silly. like he was a brilliant profiler, it's a kind of science. he's a good agent. that isn't spooky. it's hard work.) but in squeeze, she saw up close the mockery of it. the assumptions people made, but she worked with him. he's on the victim's side and that's where she wants to be. i fully believe part of her is trying to impart this on her students.

then. when he doesn't see her in the hall at work, walks right past her with no recognition...she decides to do something. they're friends, he's still her partner.

she's relieved when he makes a joke. (i love them)

she told him he looked like deep throat when he was approaching her in the dark...like toe testing his state of mind.

scully has some understanding that they are being watched: she had to write reports specifically on the validity of the x files & mulder's investigations, she found the bug in the pen in e.b.e., they took precautions with false trails and they have a signal to meet covertly. she took the precautions, she's been extra cognizant of her surroundings. all this because she just wants to make sure her friend is okay, and he's busy worrying about putting her in danger.

she is so worried about him. she doesn't want mulder to give up and it seems like he has, but he ends up confiding in her that he's struggling to believe & hope, worrying that he's crazy.

i love the way she responds. she reminds him of what's kept him going, that he has seen so much. scully doesn't believe his memories, or in aliens, but she believes in mulder. in his compassion, in his determination, in his cause, in his ability to keep searching.

i think this is the first time we see him doubt his memories, his course. and scully, even with her skeptic role, has a role to fill. when he can't find hope, she tries to guide him to it. she knows how important it is.

"even if george hale only saw elves in his mind, the telescope still got built. don't give up." this line reminds me of the end of quagmire: "well there's still hope. that's why these stories have endured. people want to believe."

scully loves mulder's belief, or determination to believe, so much. it is a precious part of him she wants to protect. hope & belief are powerful things, and they're both so hard to hold onto. the way they help each other is beautiful. i've always found this aspect of their relationship incredibly romantic. not necessarily in a traditional sense but it's all so personal. the intimacy with which they share sacred parts of themselves, in a way they haven't shared it with others. i don't know if i've posted this, but i think there's an inherent romance when you're getting to know someone. in that phase, you don't really know where it's going, and wherever it does go (a friendship or romantic relationship) doesn't really matter. that's what was happening in season one, and their work made them forge a bond built on respect and fused them together. in season two, they now have so many shared experiences.

season one is all about scully following mulder. season two is more like mulder following scully. not as literally as scully follows him, but she tells him "next time we meet out in the open" and it's decided. he listens to her. (and later, he invites her on all of his cases. until he's abducted. and he almost follows her to the grave before she's truly gone. it becomes about protecting her, and trying to do that while respecting her, following her lead on coming back to work, what she can handle, what she needs to do like irresistible, and supporting her. it's different but also not so different to how she follows him, protects him, supports him.)

they're separated because of the fbi, not because she left him. she didn't abandon him. but mulder wasn't going to keep dragging her down. here, scully makes the choice and that's something he has never experienced before. mulder isn't used to this, and he doesn't understand, but it's something he craves his entire life without really knowing what he was craving. it's real love & respect & belief & care. he has to follow her too. he has to let her in. he can't lose her.

literally the way he was avoiding her, protecting scully from himself & the conspiracy. but that doesn't matter to her. mulder is what matters to her, their relationship. they need each other and they love each other and they are best friends, voiced or not.

immediately after this meeting, mulder disappears. skinner questions scully about his whereabouts, only tells skinner about seeing mulder in the hallway, nothing about the clandestine meeting.

i *love* this. skinner knows scully wouldn't be worried if she knew. she immediately offered to help in a professional capacity, but these two have never fooled anyone. no one knows the nature of their relationship, and they can't because mulder & scully refuse to give it any name for so long.

csm knows scully will find mulder, but he still doesn't understand what a force scully is. he claims to never underestimate mulder, but he definitely underestimated scully.

she starts looking into it herself, regardless of skinner asking her for help or not. she figures out his password, takes the evidence right out from under other agents.

meanwhile, their meeting reinvigorated mulder. he's searching for the truth of those transmissions. he is recording himself, talking to scully directly, down in puerto rico.

he's describing jorge's body to scully, giving observations he's heard her give a hundred times.

(something here about how he looks *frightened* to death and scully proliferating about the person's memories & life before they end up dead on their autopsy table)

and scully, she's working on getting to him. she knows she's being followed and leaves false trails for the agents trying to track him down. just like they did in e.b.e. and i just don't even have words for that. she's learned so much from him. before, scully was confident she wasn't being followed. but the second skinner came to her about him, she kept up with every precaution and more.

when she catches up to him. you know the scene.

mulder: they came, scully. the ones that took her. they were here

scully: here, or here?

they're PRECIOUS. scully was so worried about him, finds him unconscious on the floor, terrified he was dead. touching him to reassure herself, doctoring him for the feeling of safety it gives her. but her mulder is back and she's relieved — even as they have to flee.

the way he so slowly, carefully, intentionally says "i still have my work...and i've still got you...and i still have myself." mulder understands exactly what scully was telling him. partners or not, she is with him, always. it's hard for him to accept, but he needs her. she saved him in so many ways just in this episode alone.

there was so much yearning in this brief separation and scully bridged the gap. she didn't let it end just because the bureau split them up. and who is mulder to refuse her?

#txf s2 #mulder and scully #the x files #little green men #i will reblog to write about the other episodes lolllll #i literally had to get on a computer to add the last three pictures #becuase i refused to delete any and they needed to be included #anyway #hope this is what you were looking for <3 #txf meta

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fourmula1 · 1 year ago

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I'm sure someone has asked before but how did established relationship Maxiel handle Daniel leaving Red Bull? I adore the way you write them ❤️

ohhh how delightful to receive this! I haven't written about them in awhile.

honestly i think it was kind of bad. max was incredibly hurt that daniel was leaving the team, leaving him as a teammate, and ultimately figured that daniel wanted to leave him as a boyfriend also. how could daniel still want to be romantically involved if he was leaving the team? leaving the team because of max?

daniel tried to explain that he didn't want to break up but he couldn't be with red bull anymore professionally because he had other goals and dreams. it was hard and messy for daniel, too, because he loves max the person, but max the teammate made things hard.

i think they probably took some time apart; max had a really hard time reconciling the idea that daniel could still love him but not want to be teammates. in his mind he couldn't get past that. how could daniel leave red bull because of him, but still want to be in a relationship?

i'd say it wasn't miscommunication because daniel tried to be as clear as he could with his intentions. he loves max. wants to be with max, still wants to go home with max every day. but max really couldn't separate his personal life from his work life. he's still so young and has growing and maturing to do, and the first few days and nights after daniel telling max what he was doing were really hard. lots of arguing, and talking into the night, and lots of crying on both parts, and max being unable to understand or accept that they could still be together through this.

daniel went back to his apartment. he never officially moved out of his place and into max's but one day he'd just... stopped going home. now being 'home' feels foreign because there's no max, no cats, just cold empty loneliness.

they never truly broke up or had that 'this is over' conversation but they spent a few weeks apart over summer break, trying to pretend to their friends like they weren't absolutely miserable, and being unable to tell their friends and families why. they're not really out to anyone but their trainers, who were really in the need to know category.

daniel's first year at renault was rough on both him and max relationship-wise. during summer break they could pretend everything was mostly the same, and they agreed to try to work through it and be together through the season. max was trying his best but he was still sad, still hurt, still feeling such conflict inside about how he could feel that daniel loves him but also believe that somehow he must not if he left red bull. it's always been hard for max to separate work and personal life, because driving has been his life for all of it.

i think ups and downs for that first year were common. times where they'd agreed to be together and get back to their lives together, and times where max's confidence was just shaken. he'd tried so, so hard to be brave and make his feelings known to daniel in the first place. he'd made his first move when he was just barely nineteen and been rejected spectacularly; embarrassed and heartbroken, but determined nonetheless. he'd waited for daniel to be okay with their age difference. pretended everything was cool for an entire year until he was twenty and daniel couldn't argue he was a kid, anymore. he'd waited, and tried so hard to be chill. he'd never committed himself like this to anything but racing, before. daniel had been it for him. two years together and he'd never so much as glanced at another man - devoted and in love and obsessed with daniel.

it devastated max to have daniel go to another team, and not be together all the time anymore. what if daniel met someone else? what if daniel realized he was wasting his time with max - too young, too focused, too obsessed with being the best, too immature. what if he found someone else, more his age, more exciting, interested in more things than racing. then what?

so. yeah. that first year was rough. max had to work hard on his own confidence in their relationship. it wasn't that he didn't trust daniel, it was mostly that he worried daniel would realize max wasn't all that special. he had to work hard on understanding that daniel could, and did, still love max despite not wanting to be on the same team anymore.

it wasn't easy and they had lots of fights, and tears, and hard talks, but i think when 2020 hit that made them really have to sort it out for good. lockdowns and shutdowns meant nothing but time together to work it out.

and they did! it might have taken a year of ups and downs, back and forth, together and apart at times, but they slowly got there. were committed to each other. and max figured it out. he still never wanted daniel to leave red bull. he still wishes daniel hadn't. but max is slowly learning that work and life don't have to be the same thing. he's learning.

it'll be six years for them this fall. six years. nearly a quarter of max's life. they survived 2019. they'll survive anything.

#established relationship snapshots #thanks for asking!!!

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sneverussape · 1 year ago

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18, 16, and 3 for snape and lily please?

oh i adore these 2 😌😌

3. Obscure headcanon

severus: this is obviously a projection on my part but i hc that snape had asthma (previously discussed here and there was a LONGER one that even had germ theory and an entire meta about illnesses in the wizarding world discussed between @snapesangel, @wellpresseddaisy and myself but i can't find it SKDJSKDS) and certain things in the castle set him off like clockwork depending on the season. having grown up in a grimy old mill town with poor healthcare access will do that to a guy. the rest of the staff knew the turning of the seasons depending on the severity of his allergies and clowned him for it, but they’ve also learned to keep inhalers handy. somehow muggle-bred illnesses are best cured with muggle medication.

lily: lily had a morbid fascination for dead things. dead animals were a frequent find around the outskirts of cokeworth and she and severus would usually poke and prod to their hearts’ delight. severus was more squeamish about the whole ordeal though and would always be the first one to quit whenever lily wanted to play A&E Surgeon. he was fascinated however at the possible effects certain parts would have for potions and would often risk asking his mam 'hypotheticals'.

(both their parents would have been absolutely livid if they'd found out the children were playing with dead animals but severus and lily, in their childish wisdom, both made up for it by washing their hands and arms with soap until their skin stung at the end of the day; only tuney had come close at finding them out but she never completely succeeded)

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t admit to themselves

already answered here for sev but here's another one:

severus: he didn't hate either children or teaching. there were few moments when he could say that teaching was satisfying, particularly if a diamond of a student managed to emerge from the rough (it happened all too rarely, but the few times it did happen, it was a blissful thing to experience), but he didn't hate it even on a regular day. there were times that children were more amusing than annoying, and the inane things they wrote in their essays sometimes made him cry with laughter rather than frustration. the years before potter were not as turbulent and were almost enjoyable.

lily: wanted badly to increase her station in life, with or without the rest of her family with her. it's not that she didn't love them but as the only witch in her family, no one else could have possibly understood how it meant to be poor and different in hogwarts, apart from severus. but severus was also in a different house and one that was ostracized by the rest of the school. lily was alone. she didn't want to leave the wizarding world and did everything to change her lot in life to make it better, so that she could stay. even if it meant considering james potter as a husband. even if it meant stripping herself from her past and never looking back. (and it wasn't that it didn't hurt; it did. but she had wanted this more).

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about

this is a hard question tbh because would they even consider getting one in the first place? :)) i feel like both would be against therapy for a lot of reasons, the strongest of which would be the complete denial that they needed it. but ok, let's assume that a miracle happened and they took that first step...

severus: increasing his self-worth and letting himself enjoy things. he probably also needed it for anger management. he probably never learned how to productively work through his emotions and therapy could help with that.

lily: marriage counseling lmao but really...i think hers and james' marriage was one of convenience, although i do play sometimes with the hc that it was a happy sort. other things she could have worked on in therapy is abandonment issues and increasing her self-esteem. i think both her and sev had self-image issues that they had to work on, mostly because as they were growing up they had to deal with intense gender role expectations that neither of them cleanly fit into.

they also both needed group therapy with their respective families. :))

thank you for the ask!

#ask game #snape #lily evans #hp

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umilily · 1 year ago

Text

Since I can't draw for shit, I sadly can't make one of those yearly lookbacks, but there's something else I'd like to put out there as a sort of year-in-review (and to celebrate a little):

Once more – true to my brand – I managed to time things so spectacularly that I’m proud (?) to say that today is actually my one-year anniversary of posting fic. To be fair, I doubt that this will become an international holiday like any other minor ones going on atm, but nevertheless I just wanted to take a moment to write down some thoughts on that (because ah, yes, of course, more rambling from me), even if it’s just for myself to look back on both an occasionally very unusual, weird year.

No pressure to read or digest any of this, I think the only thing I really want to say to anyone who’s bothered reading this far (both this post and the things posted over the last year) is a huge thanks. If you had told me last December that a decision made while under the heavy influence of Ibuprofen and caffeine to combat one of the nastiest colds I ever had, would snowball into a year filled with kind words from strangers and new friends, I would have probably written you off as a fever dream. Oddly enough, it wasn’t, so somehow now I’m here writing this post that already feels too pompous, but that I can’t help wanting to type out regardless.

My own corner of the vast internet unexpectedly became a lot more populated than I’ve ever known it to be. Which feels hilariously ironic when I think about that at the same time, living abroad essentially nuked my social life with friends and family many hours away. But even if I still am very much reclusive – a rare encounter I suppose – and have only talked to very few people who hang around here, I’m still so very grateful for all the kind words from everyone found for me and my writing. Thank you all for keeping me company through me essentially just going “fuck it we ball” continuously.

The last year had some stretches that have been exhausting and rough and I think sticking with something self-indulgent and light-hearted kept me from going nuts at times. I’m not the type to make new years resolutions and when last year I told people that mine was “Doing things poorly”, it likely was the most confusing one they heard so far. For me personally, it was the best one out there, so I will be renewing that and (as proudly as possible) continue to do things poorly in 2024 as well. If people stick around for a laugh or two, I will take it as the highest praise and compliment.

On a more personal front, there is a good chance that I will start working full-time within the next year, so I also just wanted to take this chance for a little heads-up. If I end up disappearing for longer than what you’re used to from me being chronically online, it’s probably because I managed to fool people into hiring me and sadly not because I finally made the smart decision to become a hermit in the woods or retire to the seaside. (Or well, I might end up reacting the exact opposite. Because when have I ever made responsible, adult decisions regarding how to spend my free time? Who needs sleep when you can contemplate the enigmatic, inner machinations of your blorbo’s mind on the topic of coffee or Ikea furniture?) I will do my very best to be as consistent as possible, because even if I do get busy, writing has been something that brought me much more joy than I could have anticipated, and I would like to keep that going.

With that, I think I’m finally done and all that’s left for me to do is saying thanks again and wishing you all a relaxing holiday season and a good start into the new year! <3

#lily talks #pls don't mind me being sappy for a bit #i'll be back to my scheduled silly posting asap

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placeholdfm · 11 months ago

Text

♙ ⸻ · 。… [ mackenyu arata + twenty nine + cis-male + he/him ] the city of new york welcomes francis fuyuki to the social season of 1887. known to be loyal and athletic, their rumored rough and ruthless tendencies might prove to be their unmaking. the street musicians often string along a tune that sounds like dead man by david kushner whenever they are near, hoping for a coin or two as a reward. unbeknown to their peers, francis views the social season as the time to show those he serve loyalty but when holding a secret such as fallen in love with someone above him in society it would be best to keep their opinions to themselves. ⸻

ABOUT

full name: hayato francis fuyuki nickname: goes just by his name. position: right hand man to the dormer family.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

age: twenty-nine. eye color: dark brown. distinguishing features: has several earrings in one ear, none in the other. hair color: black, but tends to color it in bizarre colours. sexual orientation: bisexual. jewelry or accessories: the three golden earrings he wares are the only remnants he has from his mother.

PERSONALITY

good personality traits: loyal & athletic bad personality traits: rough & ruthless character inspiration: jace wayland, hunt athalar the greatest joy in life: watching form afar, knowing everyone else is happy greatest fear: being useless to the dormers.

BIOGRAPHY

born in Japan to a mother and father on the run, Hayato (who would later create a Western name for himself) didn't see the world in colors. all he saw, in the beginning, was red, representing the tremendous leap of escape his parents made to America. being one of the first travelers from Japan to America made the world very unknown to Hayato's parents and through all of this, they somehow ended up in New York after years of trying to find their place in this new and strange country. What they never expected was for their family to fall under the household of Dormer and no matter the circumstances of the Dormer's business, they ended up staying.

Soon enough with age, Hayato wanted to be more like the others, changing his name to Francis to fit in, to be part of the children playing together, even when he never truly fit with the dormer children. However, on one eventful night in the small apartment his parents rented for Francis's small family, a fire struck. both of his parents were locked inside their apartment unable to get out. This would later on come forth as an ignited fire caused by humans. Francis would learn from Mister Dormer that his father had been under a lot of pressure and ended up in a crossfire.

Francis never really forgot about the fire and at the age of thirteen he was suddenly alone in the world but no one but the dormer's around him. this is where he began to blossom, with the intent of revenge against the shadows and a loyal personality to the household which he and his parents had stayed with for such a long time.

As Francis got older, he began to work under the dormers full-time, doing all their dirty work without a single complaint and blind loyalty stepping forth. In the end, Francis found himself content with this life, with this little piece of the world where he fit in and had found something he was good at. Working at the casino doing Mister Dormer dirty work in the dark and during the day spending time with those he cared for. He soon forgot about his revenge and decided to begin living.

New York has been his home since he was young and with dangers lurking around Francis is very obedient and follows his duties and orders. He's respectful and kind towards the dormers and would step in front of a bullet for them all, but especially Mister Dormer after being taken care of for all this time.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

the forbidden love: this is someone above Francis. they are of high standards and they make him feel emotions he never has before. (it can be reciprocated or one-sided, depending on what one might wish) the best friend: they don't know what kind of horrors Francis might do for the dormers, but they know everything else about him. They are the closest thing he has to family.

#introduction : francis fuyuki

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deylightsfictionalcompanion · 1 year ago

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A while ago [see: when Stranger Things season 4 first came out] my friend and I were talking about “what would the gang think about Princess Bride? It came out around Halloween of ‘87, so they absolutely would have seen it.” And thus, the story was born.

I haven’t written a story in years [see: because college] until I just sat down one day and cranked out this 12k thing. I wrote this giant Steve Harrington x F! Reader fanfic like it sustained my whole life (it did, though, in a way).

I’m sharing it on tumblr first (it’ll go on AO3 after some minor grammatical edits) because why not.

More under cut

Fandom: Stranger Things

Genre: xReader (thought I hate Y/N so you’re Dustin’s older sister in this as “Ms. Henderson” mostly)

Word Count: 11.9k

Rating: I’m gonna go with Teen but think more CW Teen than normal Teen.

Synopsis: You’ve known Steve since high school. You’ve been apart of the craziness coming from Hawkins since the beginning. And worst of all: you’ve loved Steve ever since he first took your brother under his wing—but you’ve kept it a secret. Until now. All because of The Princess Bride.

Important info: I’m a lover of pop culture, and there’s so much of that in Stranger Things, I’ve tried to keep that feeling. This is why the bulk of the story revolves around The Princess Bride and Halloween. I’ve tried to keep it within a 1987 time frame too, just because.

Tags: #Steves A Dork #Everyone Lives #Eddie/Chrissy is there because I love them both your honor and they deserve nice things when Steve is too busy being in love with you, the reader #Listen I know there’s some small grammatical issues I’ll fix them later #Copious amounts of 80s product placement #Theres some heavy petting but like. Again, nothing worse than what you’d see on the CW #Also Eddie took Will under his wings and they DM together #Robin plays too cause they let her woo princesses #I tried my best and therefore anyone may constructively criticize me #Oh yeah Robin/Vicki are there too because I say so #this is my first time posting fanfic so like please be gentle at a time like this ;)

As You Wish

By Deylightsfictionalcompainion

Somehow the light always felt brighter after coming out of the movie theater. It wasn’t a surprise, given you went to see a matinee on a Thursday and the movie was less than two hours long, but still. That initial shock of stepping out from a darkened theater to the afternoon sun made it difficult for you to see for a while. You imagined it was the same for everyone in the group.

“Do you think when Peter Faulk said ‘As You Wish’ at the end, he was implying that maybe it was his book? Like, you can actually check it out from the library or something?” Robin asked, her rough-cut voice echoing in the parking lot. She held up a hand to her forehead to block the sun and looked back at the rest of the group.

“I very much doubt that, Robin.” Dustin let out a small chuckle. “I’ve skimmed every part of that library and I have never come across a copy of The Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern, let alone one written by Columbo.”

“Well, it still would be cool if it was an actual book to check out. But I guess I’ll just have to look into more movies directed by that guy that plays Michael Stivie from All In The Family. Personally, I think he’s a better director than actor, but that’s just me.” Robin shrugged her shoulders and grabbed the handle to the passenger door of Steve’s car, placing her weight on one foot as she waited for the rest of you to circle around the car and get in.

You caught up to her in no time and leaned in on the hood, watching as Dustin, Eddie, and Steve slowly made their way around.

You’d picked this Sunday to go because most of the group was off. Nancy and Jonathan insisted on watching it as part of their new attempt at foraging a date night together and Mike, El, Will, Max, and Lucas had already seen it last weekend—they actually convinced everyone else that they had to see it too.

“I’d love to make it into a D&D session,” Will had beamed up at Eddie during the last D&D session they’d had together. Eddie had, upon meeting Will, found it necessary to take the kid in under his wing since he was the only one of the boys that he deemed could carry on his title as DM of Hellfire. Will took an instant shining to him, and in return, started to really take his newfound apprenticeship seriously. “I think I could really work in the part about the Pit of Despair and Dread Pirate Roberts lore. You should see it so you can help me get it set up.”

“Very well,” Eddie responded to him, slouched in his chair that somehow survived Jason’s rampage through the club room. It looked a little out of place sitting in the basement of Steve’s perfectly primmed house—but Eddie had insisted if Hellfire (at least for the summer) was to continue, he’d need his chair. And since Steve was tired of being a taxi service from one end of Hawkins to the next, he’d given up and let the club just meet up in his [empty] house. “I will see The Princess Bride whenever the Henderson’s convince Harrington to take us. See for myself if I can accurately get a feel for how to home brew the storyline into Hellfire’s campaign trail.”

Dustin immediately started to bounce at the thought and turned to look at you. “You gotta convince him.” He said, his eyes shining in the way he knew you couldn’t resist. “I’m all out of favors to ask him this month, and I don’t wanna push my luck asking for another ride.”

You sighed, closing the book you were reading (well, half-reading. Sometimes the campaign they’d play was exciting enough to catch your interest, and you’d tune in to the boys—and Robin, who weirdly got into the game one night when she found out both Will and Eddie would let her seduce princesses—as they’d play). “I’ll ask him next shift. But you owe me chore duty for a week without mom knowing.”

Dustin bounced harder. “Absolutely. It’s a deal.”

Which is how you found yourself leaning over the counter, pleading with Steve the next day.

“Come on, Steve,” you’d said to him as you watched him restock the shelves of Family Video—something you honestly hadn’t expected to still be working at after the events of ’86, yet you, Robin, and Steve all got to come back. “It’s an action-adventure story. Mostly. Just a little bit of romance. And if you watch it now, you’ll be able to recommend it better once it comes to the store. Maybe woo a few hearts with it?

“It’s not the movie, Ms. Henderson,” Steve complained as he shook his head, his hair swaying. He finished putting back the last of his VHS tapes and looked up at you. “Why do I always have to be the one that drives?”

“Not that you don’t make a point,” your words fumbling out of your mouth, still trying to become used to him calling you ‘Ms. Henderson’ after you made a joke one day last week when Janet Jackson’s Nasty came on the radio. “But do you really want me to drive? I already convinced Robin to come along with Dustin and Eddie—so you know they’ll just end up dragging you along regardless—and it would be a shame to have me, the only other licensed driver of this particular bunch, drive. Especially because last time, you compared it to—”

“Max,” he sighed, placing a hand on his hip and closing his eyes. “Never again. You’re as bad as Max.”

“She’s gotten better, you know.”

“Don’t want to.”

“So you’ll drive?” You smiled at him—the one that seemed to always work, since more than once you caught him signing and closing his eyes when you’d break it out.

“Robin and I are off Thursday,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

You bounced—a Henderson trait, it seemed—and leaned farther over the counter to give him a quick hug. “Perfect. It’s a date then, Steve.” You turned around and walked over to the return bin, only half listening to Steve as he mumbled under his breath and walked towards the back of the store.

“So boys,” you said as they each got to the car, opening it and sliding in, your tone curious. “Thoughts?”

Steve started up the engine and turned down the radio. “Loved it.” He took one look in the review mirror at you and smiled before placing the car in reverse and exiting the parking spot.

“I can absolutely see how Will and I could work this into a session or two for Hellfire,” Eddie grinned, shifting in his seat so he faced you and Dustin. “Those ROUS’s would be fun to work with. And the kid was right about the Pit of Despair. God damn title for a campaign if I’ve ever heard of one. Plus I think even our little Robin would enjoy this campaign,” he turned his attention toward the passenger seat, reaching a hand to place on Robin’s shoulder. “Up for saving a princess, Buckley?”

Robin turned back to face Eddie and smirked. “Always down for saving a damsel in distress, Munson. Especially if she’s anything like that Buttercup. Ugh. Talk about Hot. I even enjoyed the romance aspect of the film, believe it or not. And that’s so totally not my thing.”

Eddie leaned back into the seat of the car. “The romance wasn’t so bad. I think I should take Chrissy when she comes home from State. She’d love it, and I’d get a chance to analyze it better.” He flashed a smile for a second before glancing quickly out of the window to hide it.

You smiled at his bashfulness, happy that Eddie and Chrissy had finally started dating after countless hours of flirting back and forth—including when he’d played Master of Puppets in dedication to her, and she, in turn, saved his life when he heroically tried to buy them time with the Demobats. He’d nearly been inconsolable when she’d finally left to attend Indiana State University in the fall, but he’d been so proud of her for getting in he’d put on a brave face until her visits back to Hawkins would come up. “I’m sure she’d appreciate the chance to see it with you,” you said, tapping Eddie’s leg and bringing him back to the present.

“Ah, yeah. Anyway,” Eddie coughed, clearing the air. “What about you? Thoughts?”

“It was sweet. Billy Crystal and Carol Kane were probably my favorite part, though. I’m also strangely craving peanuts now too.”

“Peanuts after Hellfire, please,” Dustin said, looking at you. “Will’s been waiting for us since I told him we were seeing the matinee.”

“God, Henderson, you’re going to make me drive out again to get your club snacks, aren’t you?” Steve glanced into his review mirror, his eyebrows slightly raised. “Why can’t you guys ever just eat what I’ve got at the house?”

“Because dingus,” Robin chimed in, “when you sit in on the game you try to justify every choice that we make, and I’m tired of having to explain how things work to you. It’s fantasy. You’re not supposed to sit there and question how spells work. We have to give you reasons not to bug us every five minutes.”

Steve opened his mouth for a moment before quickly closing it. He fiddled a bit with the driving wheel before quickly flicking his eyes up to the review mirror to look at you. “Fine. But since Ms. Henderson doesn’t play, she’s got to come on snack duty with me. Especially because she’s the one that wants the damn peanuts.”

You look back at him through the mirror. “I suppose that’s only fair. But it’s on your dime, Harrington.”

Steve clenched his eyes in defeat and turned the corner, mumbling under his breath again, his big, brown eyes glancing up at you every so often for the rest of the way back to his place.

…

“And that,” Will said, his voice echoing around the room, “is where we’ll have to leave off for tonight.”

The group around him made a collective of noises, disappointed that their session had ended, once again, on a cliff hanger.

“Lady Applejack could have had time to cast a spell, if you hadn’t stopped there, Byers,” Erica chided, closing her trapper keeper and shoving it under her arm. “She better get first turn next week, or you’re going to suffer for it.”

Will turned to look at Eddie, who was smiling with what looked like pride in his eyes. “You’re DMing next week, that’s on you, Eddie.”

Eddie simply nodded his head from his chair and looked at Erica. “Lady Applejack shall get the first roll next week, don’t you worry, Erica.”

Erica smiled. “Good. Come on, Lucas. Mom said we better not be late for dinner tonight, and I’m not going to be the one to have to deal with her and dad because you can’t say goodbye to your friends fast enough.”

Lucas turned to face the group. “See you all later,” he said, following Erica up the stairs. Mike followed them shortly after, muttering something about going to meet up with El early tomorrow, leaving you, Will, Eddie, Dustin, Robin, and Steve sitting around the basement.

“So,” Will began, turning his chair to face Eddie’s. “What do you think about my idea for a Princess Bride themed session?”

Eddie smiled. “I think we could make something work out.”

Will’s face lit up. “Great! What were your thoughts?”

You put down the book you’d been half-heartly reading and got up from your chair, walking over to the stairs to head up and get a drink while they talked. It wasn’t that you weren’t curious—you were—but you’d been waiting until the session ended to go up and get yourself a refill on the Coke Steve had in his fridge.

“Mind if I join you?” Steve said, following you up the stairs. “Robin refuses to leave this conversation to get herself some snacks. Said she needs to make sure the princess arc in it is challenging enough or something.”

You nodded your head as you continued up and turned to wait for him until you were both off the stairs and in the Harrington kitchen. “I only half listen into their sessions—more for the plot than game play. Plus it’s fun to watch Dustin have fun again. Thanks for letting Hellfire make base here.” You walked over to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a can of Coke for yourself. A quick open, the fizzing noise echoing in the room, and you take a swig before pulling back the bar stool from the kitchen’s island counter and sitting down. “I don’t know if I’ve ever really thanked you for being there for Dustin in a way I couldn’t, really.”

“Henderson’s a good kid. And I know you’re an amazing sister to him. But I get it,” Steve opened up a cupboard and pulled out a bag of microwave popcorn. He walked over to the microwave and popped it in, hitting some buttons until it turned on, and swung around to face you, his hips lightly resting on the edge of the counter. “Not that the little shit gave me much of a choice in the matter, but he really just needed some man-to-man conversations. Pain in my ass, still. But he’s grown on me. All those little shitheads have grown on me. They’re like—”

You take another sip of Coke and smile slightly up at Steve. “Your chicken nuggets?”

The microwave dinged and Steve blinked. “You talked to Nancy, didn’t you?”

You tactically looked around the room, taking yet another sip. “It…may have come up the day we helped Chrissy pack for State.”

Steve lowered his head, carefully turning around to open up the microwave and take out the popcorn, shaking it sadly to make sure all the pieces were covered in the fake butter from the packaging.

“Steve,” you said, your tone shifting into one of sympathetic laughter, “hey. Listen.” You got up from the stool and walked over to him, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s really great that you want to have a big family. You’re good with them…even if you go around calling them shitheads all the time. You’ve kept them all safe, just like they were you own. You taught them important things, and helped them out when they asked, and most importantly?”

He turned to face you, popcorn bag in hand, his brown eyes wide and looking up at you through his lashes. It catches your breath for a second—enough for you to feel your heart skip a beat—and you have to close your own eyes to finish your sentence. “Y-you never fail to always keep on with that charming Harrington attitude. I know you hate always being the god damn babysitter, but Steve?”

His full attention is on you now, and you can feel yourself getting closer to him; his face inches from yours. “You are a genuine, caring person underneath all that hair.”

“HEY DINGUSES,” Robin’s voice shouted from the bottom of the basement stairs. “I can smell the popcorn! What is taking you so long?”

Steve backed away from you, and you turned around to grab your coke, your cheeks surely as red as they feel hot.

“Coming, your Highness,” Steve yelled out, “Or whatever it is you call yourself.”

“Dame Gaylord, for the record, Steve.” She called up. “Just hurry up with the popcorn, I’m starving down here!”

Steve looked over at you, shrugging his shoulders as he walked back down the stairs, popcorn bag in hand.

You gulp and sit down for a moment back on the stool, cradling your hands in your face.

What was that, you think, staring at the off-white counter. Did…am I going crazy? Or was that—you shake your head.

Your crush on Steve wasn’t new to you, but it had never seemed to be more than one sided. You had painfully made yourself make sure he never noticed it. So why now? Did he notice it now?

It started when you were both still in high school—he was the king of Hawkins high: all smiles, all suave charm, the way he carried himself…you couldn’t help it—but as you grew to know him, especially as he started to interact more with Dustin, taking him under his wing and helping him out; as you watched him time and time again put himself first to protect you and the rest of the gang, never failing to keep a smile on his face even in the most drastic, dangerous situations—your crush developed beyond a schoolgirl trope. You fell hard for Steve Harrington. It was hard at first to keep those feeling in check. Once or twice you had to hide your blush from him and shake it off cleverly, smiling and laughing, or changing the subject to something you know he could talk about for a ridiculous amount of time. You were pretty sure that he had no idea how much you liked him.

That is.

Until now.

The carbonated fizzle from the can of Coke beside you shook you from your thoughts, and you grabbed the can, chugging down half of it before walking back downstairs.

“But what I’m hearing,” Dustin’s voice rang through the basement, “is that you have tomorrow off.”

“I said I would think about calling off tomorrow—” Steve began, his hands planted firmly on his hips.

“Matty owes us time, Steve,” Robin said, tossing popcorn into her mouth. “We haven’t taken a day off since our shifts started back up this summer.”

You walked over to Eddie, who had his legs swung over the arm of his chair. “What exactly did I miss here, Munson?”

Eddie looked at you, a smile spreading across his face. “Midnight ride. Dustin’s trying to book us an overnight stay to finish plotting out Will’s Princess Bride session while the memory is still fresh in our heads. I know you’ve got the day off tomorrow, and I took afternoon shift at Motorwork’s. So, it’s all about convincing Harrington.”

You looked back over at Steve, who was slowly losing the battle against your brother and Robin. You couldn’t help but tilt your head a little bit and smile. He’d cave. He always caved for those two.

“Word has it, Henderson,” Eddie adjusted how he was sitting and leaned in closer to you, his hair brushing against the back of your head. “That all it would take to get him to cave right this minute is a smile from you.”

You snap your head to face Eddie, your brows knit. “On whose authority?” You questioned, your tone coming out angrier than you meant.

“I have eyes, Henderson. Unfortunately,” he leaned back into his chair, crossing his ankles and linking his hands together to support the back of his head. “I also know that sometimes our own eyes fail us at seeing the bigger picture when everyone else already can.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unchanging. Eddie was an assortment of flavors—you’d seen him go from being a chaotic punk to screaming child to love sick puppy in under 24 hours—but he never said anything that wasn’t true. And that would also mean that earlier…you weren’t imagining…

“How long,” your voice was quieter as you leaned back towards Eddie. “Have you noticed?”

“For you, darling?” He smirked. “First time I saw you two together. You were worse than I was with Chrissy.”

You bit your lip slightly. “And him?”

“Now, what would be the fun in telling you that?” He brought his arms back down off of his head and rubbed them on his thighs. “All I know is that if I had that kind of power over Harrington—and believe me, I’ve tried—I wouldn’t waste it.”

You blinked. A shiver ran down your spine and something inside your head—a usually very, very quiet voice—rang out. “If you won’t tell me,” you began, your eyes now focused on Steve, who was standing with both hands on his hips, slowly deflating under the weight of Dustin and Robin’s harassment. “Then at least help me figure out how to harness it.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He chuckled as he straightened out on his chair, his feet landing firmly on the floor. “Didn’t you say you wanted peanuts earlier?”

“Steve,” your voice came out louder than you anticipated, “call off tomorrow. It’s a Friday in October and the theater has better options. Matty can handle one night. Besides, you deserve a day off. Not to mention that I still want peanuts, and we’ve yet to go out and get some. We can pick up stuff to make for breakfast while we’re out.”

Steve looked at you, eyebrows raised. His stance softened a little and he tilted his head. “Why are you—”

“Are you seriously questioning my sister right now, Harrington? Go get her the damn peanuts. And pick up some Tang for the morning!” Dustin said, slapping Steve’s back.

You smiled—the one that seemed to always work; the one Eddie had noticed and said something about to you—and you watched. You watched as Steve sighed and closed his eyes.

“Anything else I can get for you assholes here at Harrington’s Bed and Breakfast?”

…

The drive out to the store felt awkward to you, but you did your best to ensure that it didn’t feel like that for Steve. It was hard, though, now that you’d had Eddie confirm Steve clearly had feelings for you to keep your usual calm, playful demeaner you’d worked so hard on the past several years. You’d tried simply keeping the volume up on the radio—you both loved to sing along to it, despite the fact that neither of you were exceptionally good at it—but that only worked until Tiffany’s I Think We’re Alone Now came on, and you couldn’t help but think that whoever was working the radio at the time was playing a cruel, cruel joke on you.

“I thought you loved this song,” Steve said, shifting his head quickly to look at you after you went to change the station. “Why change it?”

He reached over your hand and changed it back, turning it up.

“I think we’re alone now,” he sang at you, loudly. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.” He shook his shoulders and tapped the steering wheel in time to the song. “Come on, Ms. Henderson. Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve seen you sing this song into your hairbrush.”

“The beating of our hearts is the only sound.” You sang back at him, the smile returning to your face.

“There she is! That’s my girl,” he chuckled. He turned the volume up louder and you both sang along to the rest of the song until finally you pulled into the Kroger parking lot and he pulled into a spot, killed the engine, and turned to face you.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Steve said, looking at you, his brown eyes darker in the florescent glow of the parking lot lights.

“I am just focused on our task at hand,” you waved your hand at him and reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. “That’s all.”

“Getting peanuts shouldn’t distract you enough that you change the radio station like that. I know you better, give me a little credit.”

You turned to face him, taking in how he was propped up in his chair; one arm over top the steering wheel, the other linked back around the seat. “I…I,” you had no idea how to bring out the question do you like me like I like you? in any manner that wouldn’t be embarrassing, so you just said the first thing that came out of your mouth instead. “I am just trying to think about how the boys and Robin are going to put The Princess Bride into their campaign.”

Steve blinked back at you. “S-sure.” He said, not quite believing you, you could tell, but also too polite to call you out on what clearly was a lie. “I mean, if they had asked me, I would have told them to focus mainly on the dread pirate Roberts stuff and go from there.”

The look you gave Steve was one you couldn’t stop yourself from making even if you tried. “Have you thought about this? I thought you didn’t understand D&D?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t get how you play that stupid game, but I know how to tell a story, thank you very much.” He said, taking his hand out from behind his seat and turning himself front facing. “I watched the same movie you guys did. In fact,” his tone in voice shifted, one that sounded like it had a bit of pride mixed in with shame. “I’ve seen the movie twice already.”

“When the fuck did you have time to see the movie?” You blurted out, unable to stop yourself.

“First time was on a date with…Stacey? Or maybe Sandy. Can’t remember. Second time was by myself, because Stacey-slash-Sandy was too busy trying to stick her tongue down my throat for me to pay attention to the movie. And I just. Really wanted to pay attention to it. It was a good movie.” He sighed and turned to face you. “That’s why when you asked me to drive you all to the theater, I wasn’t upset about the movie choice.”

You blinked. Fast at first, and then slowly a second time. “Steve Harrington likes a rom com.”

“You make it sound like I’m not allowed to enjoy movies with romance in them.” Steve said, offended.

“No, it’s not that. I just. Never pegged you for someone who would go see a movie like that on your own. The date thing I get. Me and the rest of the gang dragging you to a movie, yes. But on your own?”

“Yeah, well, a lot about me had changed in these last few years, if you hadn’t noticed. Though you should,” he said, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. You shivered. “You’ve been there alongside me. Hell, helped me change even. I’ve got a lot to thank you for, Ms. Henderson.”

You smiled at him, soft; warm. “Really?”

“Shit yeah, Henderson. You seem to genuinely care about me and call me out on my bullshit when I need it.” He looked down and smiled, his voice shifting in tone. “You’ve helped pick me back up and sewn me back together after all those times I’ve taken a beating; shown me how to grow and find ways to be part of the solution rather than the problem. I’m really lucky to have you in my life.”

The red in your face burned. But you didn’t care. “Steve, I—”

He cut you off with a single look up through his eyelashes. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now. But I’ve never had the chance to. Until now.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he leaned in closer to you. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same way I did. I didn’t want to ruin what we already have by putting my feelings into the mix. But I have to tell you now. Especially after what almost happened in the kitchen. I’d regret it if I didn’t.”

You stared at him. For several seconds, unsure of what to do. It was like being caught in headlights.

He stared back; tried to lean back to give you your space, his hopeful smile starting to faulter, but you grabbed his hand tightly in yours and squeezed. “Steve, I…” you start, your brain firing off thoughts in different directions and your mouth unable to release any of them.

“Hey,” he said, patting your hand. “It’s okay. I get it if you—”

You pulled him in and lightly placed a kiss to his lips, messy and simple, because it’s all you could think to do to let him know how you feel; that his feelings were reciprocated.

When you pull back, Steve’s eyes were closed, his mouth slightly opened. You stared at him like this, wondering if what you did was the right move when his eyes snapped open and his mouth spread into the biggest grin you’d ever seen.

“I am going to take that as a positive sign,” he said before leaning in closer to you. He grabbed both of your hands and looked down at them, his thumbs rubbing random patterns into your palm. “But I would really, really love it if you’d say something.”

You looked down at your hands, your brain still processing what you’d just done, unable to look at him in the eye yet.

“Hey,” Steve lifted up your chin and brushed your hair carefully behind your ear. “I’m kinda sticking myself out on a limb right now and I could use some good old Henderson comforting I’ve come to love.”

Your brain finally stopped. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while, too.”

“That was what I was hoping you’d say,” he said, bringing his face in closer to yours, inches from your mouth. “There’s just one more thing I’m hoping for, though.”

You looked up from his mouth and into his eyes, confusion swirling in your thoughts.

“There is?” You breathed, so close to him you could hear the beat of his heart and smell his shampoo.

“Tell me that I can finally kiss you.” He whispered. “A real one.”

You smiled—the same one you’ve used so many times before. “Absolutely.”

Steve smiled back. “Have I ever told you that that little smile of yours does things to me that I’m not particularly proud to admit in detail yet?”

“Steve,” you plead, your arm now reached up and carded through his hair.

“Tell me I can kiss you again?” He said, his lips brushing against yours and his nose nudging your cheek.

“For you, Harrington?” you said, bringing him in closer. “You can kiss me any time you want.”

You felt his smile as he kissed you; light and soft at first, quickly turning into something deeper as he slid his hand from the base of your jaw to your ear, slowly combing through your hair as he cupped the back of your head. It was breathless and loving, unlike any kiss you’d had before. You lost yourself within his embrace and it was only when he bit your bottom lip, pulling you closer and tilting your head that you were able to catch your breath. In doing so, you moved your hand to his shoulder and forced yourself to pull apart, deep breaths taking over you both and fogging up the windows surrounding you.

“That was—” you started, your focus still lingering on his mouth.

“Worth the wait,” he finished, resting his forehead on yours. He grinned and leaned back in again to steal two more kisses from your lips before you pushed yourself off of him again, giggling.

“Steve,” you protested as he turned his head and began gently placing kisses along your jawline and down to your neck. “Steve, we’ve still got to go in and get those peanuts or everyone’s going to get suspicious.”

“Who gives a shit about what they think,” Steve said in-between kisses. “We’re alone now. I’ve finally got you all to myself, and I don’t want to waste a second of that.”

You felt a jolt of electricity tingle in your head and it softened your eyes. You could just forget about everything for a while—enjoy they fact that Steve Harrington was here, kissing you after professing his crush. And wouldn’t that be enough?

You grabbed Steve’s head, pulling him up so you could look him soundly in the eyes. His hair was messy, his pupils blown, and his lips plump from kissing you. He looked almost feral—flushed and salacious—but still soft, comforting, gentle. “I promise,” you stroked his cheek with your thumb, doing your best to hold his attention. “I won’t let you waste any second you’re with me. But there will be so much more time for that if we get what we came for and go back to your place. Steve,” you gave him a quick kiss, reminding him you were still there with him, “the quicker we do this, the quicker I can show you just how long I’ve waited for you.”

Steve stared at you, his eyes trained on yours.

“Because there’s only so much I can show you in a car. It’s…a little cramped. I expect your bed will accommodate many more things.”

He pulled himself from your grasp at that, and you watched as your words ignited a fire in him. “Pancakes or French toast for breakfast?” He said, opening up the car door and swinging his leg out. “Come on, Ms. Henderson. Let’s go! Move your ass, we’ve got things to take care of. Mainly…me.”

“As you wish,” you chuckled as you opened the door and stepped out in the cold night air.

…

Halloween was Saturday. The Byers were throwing a party because the kids all complained they were too old for trick-or-treating, and you and Steve had decided to go in on a couples costume as The Princess Bride herself and The Dread Pirate Roberts.

Steve was more excited about it than you—he hadn’t stopped telling everyone about how much he loved the film (even though Robin, sick of hearing him quote the movie endlessly at her, threatened to push him down a hill if he didn’t stop it at work), and he was quick to ask you about doing couples costumes once he stopped prompting make-out sessions.

“I didn’t take Steve Harrington for one wanting to do couples costumes.” You said when he’d asked you.

“What can I say?” He responded, hand on his hip. “I like to surprise people. Plus I’ve been thinking about all the things I used to be—who I was in high school—really wasn’t who I wanted to be. It was all some deliberate attempt to be someone my father wanted me to be. Everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just bullshit. When I’m with you, I feel like I can drop the bullshit and just be myself. And myself is someone who wants to do a couples costume with you from a really good movie.”

You stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand, kissing his cheek and smiling. “That is why I started liking you in the first place. Because I watched you challenge yourself to be the best possible version of you that you could be.”

Steve blushed. “Turns out all I needed was a thump on the head to change my life. And I’m grateful for it every single damn day.”

You cupped his face and rubbed your thumb along his cheek before pulling him into a hug. “I am too.”

“I’ll see you and Dustin after my shift tonight.” He said, breaking away from the hug. “You’re going to have to tell me how you convinced Matty to give you the best shifts when I get there.”

You laughed. “I don’t get the best shifts. I just get lucky. I also don’t spend half of my shift trying to flirt with you, Steve.”

Steve shifted his stance. “You saying you want me to stop, Henderson?”

“No,” you chuckled. “I’m just saying Matty doesn’t do love-sick.” And love-sick was probably the best way to describe Steve ever since last Thursday. It was almost like he couldn’t get his fill of you—stolen glances as you two put movies back on shelves; winks and nods while on lunch; a stealthy grabbing of your hand as he walked you to his car at the end of a shift, a passionate kiss sometimes on the hood that left you both aching for something more.

Those days were the best, because as he drove you back home, anticipatory for intimacy, you’d talk. About your day, about your struggles and excitements and plans for the not-so-distant future dates you’d take. The make-out sessions you’d had in his car were amazing (Steve was an excellent kisser. More importantly, he was good with his hands. The way he’d cup your face, his thumb on your jawline, fingers behind your ear. How it slowly slid back until he held the base of your skull and moved your head so he could get the best angle. How his other hand carefully caressed your back and slid to your hips…or sometimes…sometimes, when the day had been particularly stressful, he’d reach around and lift up the side of your shirt to cup your breast, teasing your nipple in such a way that it would send a wave of pleasure through you and create a small hitch in your breath that always produced a toothy smirk from him. This was, of course, followed by a pull on your lips so forceful it dragged your entire head forward and allowed the kiss to become deeper—his mouth opening yours and his tongue finding its way inside. You’d get him back, though. After the kiss deepened, you’d push him backward and climb on top of him, running your fingers through his ridiculously perfect hair; starting at the base of his neck and grabbing and pulling it slightly once your whole hand had found its way into the feathered layers. Then you’d grind into him a little bit until you could feel the bulge in his pants, give him your own deepened kiss until you could hear him moan, and then…excuse yourself off of him, kiss him one last time—soundly on his cheek or forehead or a peck on the lips—and bid him goodnight, enjoying the dazed and confused look he gave as he watched you walk up to the front door and blow him a kiss before stepping inside) but those conversations before then were something even better. You’d always been close to Steve, but this was new territory. And it felt…right.

“Lucky, sure.” Steve picked up a bunch of VHS tapes and walked over to an aisle. “I’ll see you tonight, Ms. Henderson.”

…

“Hey,” Dustin called through your closed door, knocking once before letting himself in. “I just need a bit of help getting my hair just right.”

You looked him up and down, smiling at your brother’s costume. “Han Solo. I am guessing Suzie is Leia?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be calling each other later tonight to watch Empire Strikes Back together over the phone.” He sighed, sitting down on your vanity chair. “But for now, I’d like some help getting my hair to be less curls, more poof.”

You chuckled and moved towards him to help. “No problem.”

“Are you and Steve going as Princess Buttercup and Westley? Your costume looks spot-on.”

“We are. And thanks, Steve sewed it himself.”

Dustin broke away from your comb and turned to face you. “Steve knows how to sew?”

“He took Home Economics our sophomore year to impress some girls and wound up actually enjoying it. Says it was worth the entire class because now he knows how to hem his pants and cook basic meals—which he also thought doubled his chance at being able to woo women.” You turned Dustin back to face the mirror and started to brush out his curls again, taming them with whatever product you could find so they fanned out around his face.

“I have heard the ladies love a man who knows how to cook,” he said, watching you work in the mirror, a giant grin on his face.

“Ladies love a man that knows how to take care of themselves, Dustin. That’s like…bare minimum qualification. Know how to take care of yourself, which includes being able to ask for help when you need it. And, suffice to say little brother, you’ve got that down.” You applied some hair spray to the top of Dustin’s head and leaned down so your face was right next to his. “Suzie is one lucky lady to have a guy like you.”

“Thanks,” his face turned a light shade of red. “But I feel like I’m the lucky one.” He took one last look in the mirror before he got up and headed toward your door. “I’ll be downstairs with Steve, attempting to calm mom down about us leaving for the night. But don’t take too long. I’m starving, and Argyle is supposed to be bringing pizza. I want to get there before there’s nothing but pineapple left.”

You smiled. “Be down in a minute, then.”

It was time for the final check. You walked over to your mirror to look at your reflection. Buttercup’s head piece was neatly pinned into the cheap wig you’d picked up and her belt was securely wrapped around your waist. The bottom of the bright red dress was hemmed perfectly so that it fell down at your ankles and you smiled in spite of yourself, feeling like an actual princess. You only got to see Steve’s costume once while he was giving you yours, but it wasn’t on him—just casually draped over the back of a chair. In fact, the only part of the ‘costume’ you’d gotten to see at all was the thin little mustache Steve had been growing since you agreed to do the couples costume. It was a good look for him, actually.

A final brush of your dress and you opened your door.

“Dustin said you were almost ready, but to try and convince you to come down faster so he wouldn’t be stuck with pine—wow.” Steve took a step back from your door, glancing at you up and down. “That dress really. It really works for you.”

You grinned and looked down at the dress. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Steve regained his composure and took a bow. “At your service. M’lady.”

You giggled and pushed past him, heading for the stairs. You could have stayed there, in your doorway, eyeing him up and down in that costume though. His pants were a little tighter than the ones Cary Elwes wore, and the thread that was supposed to lightly fasten the top of his shirt was loose, exposing the top of his chest hair. He’d yet to put on the mask and black cloth around his hair, but that was what made it better. But if you did that, you knew you’d never get to the party on time and Dustin would berate you for missing the non-pineapple pizza for the next three weeks.

“Let’s get going to the party, less Han over here gets stuck with pineapple pizza,” you called out as you descended the staircase. “We’ll be home late tonight, mom. If you desperately need us, call the Byers.”

“Finally!” Dustin threw his hands up and opened up the front door. “Let’s go, Harrington! Get your ass down here so we can leave.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a twist, Henderson.” Steve said, trailing out the door and unlocking his car. “We still have to pick up Robin and Vicki.”

You followed them both out, blowing a kiss to your mom before shutting the door behind you and heading towards Steve’s car.

“Why are you always the chauffeur?” Dustin asked, opening up the backseat and sliding in.

“You know, Henderson? I ask myself that same god damn question every single time I get in my car.” The engine roared to life. “If you—either of you—want to tell me how I ended up with this job, I’d really like to know.”

…

Hopper opened up the door, his skin painted green and a brown suit swimming on his body. “Glad you kids could make it!” He said, moving to the side to let you all in. “Argyle’s late with the pizza, but we’ve broken out snacks until he gets here.”

“Thanks, Hopper.” Dustin said, pushing past him. “Good to know I won’t miss out on the good pizza.”

You smiled as you walked past Hopper, your hand holding Steve’s.

“Well, that’s new.” Hooper closed the door and turned back around to face you. “When did this happen?”

“A couple weeks ago,” Steve said, gripping your hand tighter. “But it’s been a long time coming.”

Hopper laughed. “I know the feeling. Joyce is around here somewhere, make sure you tell her the party’s going great. She’s been on edge since this morning about decorations and party games. Even though I told her you kids were probably just going to end up playing that game you guys always play. Or watching whatever monster flick is on the tube tonight.”

“Will do, Herman.” You nodded your head at Hop, letting a single chuckle escape your mouth.

“And here I thought you kids wouldn’t get The Munsters reference.” Hopper smoothed down his jacket, grabbing it by the lapels once done.

You smiled and pulled Steve forward into the living room, where you found everyone else sitting around, talking.

“I see Buttercup and Westley have made their grand entrance, finally.” Eddie said, standing up from his seat to walk over to you. “M’Lady,” he made a swift bow when he reached you, his hair falling down in front of his face and his arm raised behind him. “Glad to see that you could make it with Harrington, in matching costume, no less.”

Steve pushed Eddie back slightly on the shoulder and grinned. “Looks like we’re not the only one in matching costume.” He pointed towards Chrissy, who was busy talking to Nancy.

“Aragorn and Arwen, from Tolkien’s masterpiece, dude.” Eddie grinned, his face going soft when he looked at Chrissy. “I sent her with all the books to read while at State. She’s really gotten into them. She’s the one who suggested we go as Aragorn and Arwen, and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to dress as the great Strider.”

Steve’s expression turned into one you recognized as confusion. “This is like, related to that Mordor thing, isn’t it?”

“Lord of The Rings, Harrington.” Eddie patted him on the back. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

“Alright!” You clapped your hands, walking farther into the room. “Who’s ready to finally have some fun for once?”

“I know I am,” you turned to see Max approach you, dressed as Freddy Kruger—or, at least you thought that’s what she was going as from the looks of her sweater and hat.

“Bit too much on the nose, don’tcha think, Red?” Eddie sat down next to Chrissy, who beamed up at him, and wrapped his arm around her.

“Thought it was funny. Plus I wanted an excuse to wear a sweater and jeans,” Max said, plopping down on the couch across from where you stood. “Lucas wanted us to do a couples costume this year, but he and I couldn’t agree on one we both liked. So, I chose Freddie Kruger, and he—”

“Decided to go as The Terminator,” Lucas finished, walking into the room wearing a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses. “I ran out of time at the last minute because someone didn’t want to do The Breakfast Club with me.”

“Sorry Lucas,” Max said. “But I’m no princess. No offense,” she added, looking at you and Chrissy.

“Oh, none taken, Max! Truth be told,” Chrissy said, adjusting her legs so they no longer crossed. “I always hated being shoved into that princess stereotype, so I understand. Before I met you guys, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to break it.”

“With that roundhouse you’ve got,” Eddie beamed, “I never doubted for a second you were anything but a terrifying badass.”

“Yeah Chrissy,” Dustin chimed in. “Who’d a thought you could take out so many demobats with backflips and cheer movies. Most metal thing I’ve ever seen.”

Chrissy blushed, tucking away a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “Thanks guys. And also, just for the record, Arwen isn’t a princess. She’s the daughter of Elrond; Lady of Rivendell and later Queen of the Reunited Kingdom.”

Eddie placed a kiss to the side of Chrissy’s head. “That’s my girl.”

You chuckled and shook your head, turning to face Max. “Believe me, Max. I don’t think anyone here is princess material, despite their costumes.”

“I thought about being a princess,” El chimed in, her hair piled in curls on top of her head. “But then Mike and I went to see Alien and I thought I would make a much better Ellen Ripley.”

You turned to get a better look at El and realized she was in a near-perfect replica jumpsuit, complete with a stuffed cat and plastic gun slung around her.

“You make an excellent Ripley, El,” Lucas said, opening up a piece of candy from the table in the middle of the room. “You’d also give her a run for her money. Not that I think you two would fight. But….that might be a cool match to see.”

You leaned over to Steve to let him know you were going to go grab something to drink before walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen. The Byers’ house was a lot bigger now that Hopper and Joyce were living together and you could tell it was slowly becoming well-loved. Pictures hung up in the hallway on your way there: Will smiling as he was painting, Jonathan contemplating in the background; El and Will sitting on the couch reading together; Jonathan and El sitting on the floor of the living room, headphones on and listening to music; Joyce and Hopper smiling and looking at each other, snow on the ground with Christmas lights in the background; all five of the found family laughing around a table covered in pumpkin guts from last year’s Halloween. It was comforting to know that they were able to create a sense of normalcy again after all the trauma they’d endured the past couple of years.

“Princess Buttercup.” Will’s voice, now deeper than it had been just a summer ago, caught you off guard as you entered the kitchen.

“Luke Skywalker.” You took a step back, your head tilted to get a better look at his costume.

Will smiled before pulling down on the black sweater he was wearing. “I’m glad you know who I am.”

“I’m sorry sweetie,” Joyce bent down and put a glass pan that appeared to be full of cheese inside the oven. “I’m sure he’s a wonderful character from that film series you and Jonathan won’t stop talking about. I’m just a little preoccupied at the moment.”

“Mrs. Byers,” you said, as you took a step closer to her, “do you need any help with that?”

“Sweetheart,” she replied, adjusting her long, black wig that had fallen forward on her face. “I’ve told you—all of you kids, actually—Joyce is just fine. Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it handled!”

“She’s just making some nachos to tide us over until Argyle gets here, whenever that may be.” Will said as he walked over to the kitchen table to put on a belt. “I could use your help with this, though. I couldn’t find a scabbard to wear, but I did manage to construct Luke’s lightsaber and belt just right. I even found a pair of boots at the thrift shop that work. But…I can’t seem to get it on without help.”

“No problem,” you stepped forward and turned Will around to help attach the belt.

“I’m guessing that Steve is dressed as Westley?” Will questioned, his head turning slightly to the side to see your face.

“Yeah. It was his idea too. He’s seen the movie something like three times now and convinced me we’d be the perfect Buttercup and Westley.”

Will let out a small laugh. “I’m glad you guys are going out. It was painfully obvious to everyone else that you two needed to end up together—”

“God, every single time we had Murray over for dinner he wouldn’t stop talking about putting you both in a room rother until you came out a couple.” Joyce called from the pantry, interrupting Mike mid-sentence and causing you to raise your eyebrows. “I knew eventually you two would work it out—like Hop and I did—because god knows Murray doesn’t need to control everyone’s love life around here.”

“I like Murray well enough, but she’s got a point.” Will said, holding his belt up as you gave it one last adjustment before turning him around to face you. “We all knew you’d wind up together one way or another. Except maybe Mike. He still thinks Robin and Vicki are just friends.”

You snorted a laugh. Robin had come out to the group a little after what happened last spring, right before Steve helped her get the courage to ask Vicki out. Everyone took it pretty well—especially Will and Eddie, who hugged her excessively when she was trembling her way through her speech—but Mike had just sort of stood there, unable to grasp what it was Robin was saying. “He’s very dense. Nice, but…”

“Yeah,” Will sighed, stepping back and smoothing out his pants. “Thanks for helping me. Though I’m sure that’s not what you came into the kitchen for in the first place.”

You blink, trying to remember what it was that you came in here for. “Coke.” You finally blurt out, your thoughts distracted by the tone in Will’s voice.

Will turned and headed over to the fridge to pull out a can for you, his arm stretched out as he comes back. You wavered a bit before you decided to reach out and pull him into a hug, your arms clasping around his back, his hand still outstretched, holding a Coke. Everyone had been through a lot over the years, but it was always Will that seemed to need a little more comforting than everyone ese. You knew Jonathan would always be there for him, and since Eddie had met him, he’d made sure Will knew he was accepted into the Hellfire club. But still. Maybe it was just the sister instinct that took over when you were around Will that made you want to comfort him. “Thanks Will.” You pulled back from him and smiled, grabbing the Coke out of his hand. “Make sure Dustin see’s your outfit. I have a feeling he’ll go bananas over it.”

Joyce walked out of the pantry, a bag of tortilla chips in her hand. “Happy again to hear about you and Steve, sweetheart. These nachos should be done in a couple minutes, make sure to let everyone know there’s something here in lieu of pizza.”

“Will do, Mrs. Munster.” You smiled.

“Lily.” Joyce corrected.

You laughed as you walked out of the kitchen and back towards the living room.

“Robin and Vicki did a couples costume! We could have had the whole Breakfast Club!” You heard Lucas shout as you entered the room. You saw in the corner that Robin and Vicki had finally made their way into the Byers house (they opted to stay in the car to get ready, as when you went to pick them up, neither one of them had costumes on), and you couldn’t help but wonder why they were dressed as Ally Sheedy and Molly Ringwald from The Breakfast Club of all things.

“Feel free not to answer,” you said, walking up to the two ladies. “But The Breakfast Club?”

Vicki smiled and placed her hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Your idea, so you explain it to her.”

Robin took a sip from the cup she was holding and closed her eyes. “So,” she began, her voice competing with the sound of the music someone had put on while you were gone, “you’ve seen the movie, right? There’s that scene, in the end, where Molly Ringwald’s character takes Ally Sheedy to the side and completely redoes her make up. Which, first of all, didn’t need to be done. Because she was just fine the way she was. But, more importantly, she did the make up the way she though would make her look better. It was soooo intense. And it just, clicked? You know? They totally could have been a couple. The princess and the oddball. It’s a huge literary trope, so, why couldn’t it be like that with the two of them? Honestly, that whole film could have been the gateway into making gay history. I mean, it’s clearly an undertone of the entire film. It’s subtext—”

“Robin, sweetheart,” Vicki chimed in, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “The film did a pretty good job with the written material, regardless of the subtext. Not that your theory isn’t fascinating. But…I thought Claire’s make-over for Allison was nice. All she did was wash her face and pull her hair up so you could see her eyes. I liked how simple it was.”

“Vicki, Vicki, Vicki,” Robin said, turning to face her girlfriend. “You’re missing the point. We’ve talked over this! It’s—”

Vicki placed a finger on Robin’s lips. “Okay, smartypants. I secede. Why don’t we go and get something to eat? I’ve been smelling nachos for the past five minutes, and I want to grab some before the teenaged boys do and leave nothing left for us.”

Robin smiled. “Yes. I am famished.” She turned back to face you, her hand now captured in Vicki’s. “As for you, don’t think I didn’t notice how you’re dressed up as Buttercup when Steve is Westley. You and I will have a chat about that later! I know I can convince you to have him stop quoting that damn movie all the time!”

Vicki tugged at Robin’s arm and the two headed back to the kitchen.

You went to go and stand next to Steve, who was sitting on the arm of the chair next to Dustin, watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller video on the TV, when the front door opened.

“Happy Halloween, brochacos,” Argyle said, walking through the front door, bringing with him the scent of pizza and weed. “I’ve brought the pizza and Halloween because I think it’s absolutely the right way to go about today.” He set down five pizza boxes on the couch and held up a VHS. “And one of those pies has pineapple, my guys. May I remind you again, try before you deny.”

El smiled. “I enjoy pineapple on my pizza, Argyle. But I do not understand your costume.”

Argyle laughed. “I am Brand from The Goonies, my alien fighting friend.” He snapped at his red head band. “Please tell me someone here has shown her the greatest movie of our time.”

“I’ll make sure she sees it, Argyle.” Will said, walking over towards El. “It’s one of my favorites. It’s about a group of kids that go on a treasure hunt in order to save their home. Mikey’s optimism got me through the worst of the nightmares after last spring. He just. Reminds me of someone I know. I think you’ll really like it.”

“If Will says it’s a good movie,” El said, “then I will be sure to watch it, Argyle. But first…pizza.”

“Second on that,” Nancy said, moving out from her corner and towards the couch, adjusting her sweater and corduroy pants. “Thanks for bringing the pizza, Argyle.”

“Totally no problemo, Nance. Or should I say…?”

“Oh, I’m Carrie Fisher’s character in The Blues Brothers. Jake is around here somewhere.” Nancy said, picking up the gun she’d placed on the floor.

You looked closely at the gun, your eyebrows raising when you realized—

“Excellent prop gun, Nance!” Argyle smiled, his entire face beaming with joy for a moment before his eyebrows crossed. “Right?”

Eddie snickered from the corner. “Guess again, my friend.”

“Can’t be too lenient around here, even if things have quieted down. Had to work this thing into my costume somehow. It was easy enough to dress Jonathan up in a suit, too. Plus,” Nancy walked over to the pizza, opened the box, and took out a slice. “I just like Carrie Fisher.”

“Me too,” Argyle said, his smile returning to his face. “I don’t know if I would have gotten that one right away. Not like Westley and Buttercup over there from the second greatest movie of our time.”

“Thank you!” Steve said dramatically, raising his arms. “I am not the only one here with taste.”

“It’s not that you don’t have taste,” Robin walked over towards the pizza, a can of Coke in her hand from the kitchen. “It’s that you’re annoying about it.”

Steve just stared at her, his mouth slightly open, trying to think of something to say back to her.

“Aw man, just let it go. Best not to argue with Allison Reynolds.” Argyle slapped Steve on the back. “Which. Digging the costume, Robin. I take it Vicki is Claire, because of that whole make-up scene, right?”

“Argyle,” Robin said, opening up the pizza box with pineapple and grabbing a slice. “You have excellent taste.”

“Thanks, dude. Now,” Argyle slapped Steve on the back again, causing him to flinch slightly. “Why don’t you and your princess come grab a slice of pineapple before it’s all gone. My taste extends beyond that of film!”

You grabbed Steve’s hand and walked over to grab a slice of pizza together, enjoying the atmosphere of being surrounded by your friends.

…

“You seem a decent fellow,” Steve said, circling the table in the middle of the living room. “I hate to die.”

You watched as Steve and Dustin continued to circle each other, Steve holding up his plastic sword and Dustin his plastic blaster. Everyone was in various degrees of watching them—Eddie was enthralled by their performance while Robin and Vicki had left the room completely after Steve brought out the movie quotes.

“This is such a boring conversation,” Dustin stopped circling and held up his blaster. “Besides, ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side.”

“There is something I ought to tell you,” Steve said, his sword now in front of his face—which had lost the mask and bandana long ago, giving his hair a wild look to it.

“Oh? As long as it’s not the odds. Never tell me the odds.” Dustin motioned his plastic blaster so it dropped a little.

“Get used to disappointment.” Steve lunged forward at the exact time Dustin began making blaster sounds and ran his sword under Dustin’s arm.

“Laugh,” Dustin choked, dramatically falling to his knees. “It,” he dropped his blaster and looked down at the floor before lying down, the sword still sticking out from his armpit. “Up,” he coughed. “Fuzzball.” Dustin closed his eyes and curled up, faking his death like the dramatic kid he was.

You clapped. “Alright, can we please head out now? Some of us have to work in the morning, you know.”

Steve turned to you, his expression of satisfaction still plastered on his face.

“You’re really not going to mourn the death of your own brother?” Dustin said, looking up at you from the floor.

“I shouldn’t need to mourn. Han Solo doesn’t miss. Maybe you should have dressed as a Stormtrooper,” you joked, watching Dustin’s brow furl. “Kidding. I’m very sad for you, Dustin. But I also really just want to take a shower and get to bed. It’s almost eleven. Half the party is gone, anyway.”

Besides Robin, Vicki, Eddie, and Chrissy, everyone had trickled out of the Byer’s house throughout the night.

“Your sister’s right, Henderson,” Steve said, walking over to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to call Suzie tonight or something?”

Dustin shot up. “She’s gonna kill me if I’m late! Movie’s on at midnight.” He rushed to the door. “Robin! Vicki! Let’s go! Thanks for the party, Mrs. Byers! See you at Hellfire, Will!”

You shook your head and waited for everyone to say their thank you’s and goodbyes before walking out and getting into Steve’s car. You dropped Robin and Vicki off first, then turned the radio on and enjoyed the ambiance of Halloween decorations to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. When you finally pulled into your driveway, Dustin shot out of the car, barely thanking Steve as he ran into the house to call Suzie.

“That kid has it bad,” Steve said, shutting off the engine.

“Suzie’s good for him, I think.” You said, shifting to look at Steve. “I’m glad he’s found someone.”

“I’m glad I found you,” Steve said, pulling you in for a kiss. “Thanks for being my Buttercup tonight and every night.”

You smiled. “I’m glad I found you too, Steve. Thanks for being my Westley, babysitter boy.”

Steve chuckled as you opened up your car door and got out. “I’ll see you later.” You blew him a kiss and headed for your front door, a faint mumble from Steve barely hitting your ears.

…

Turns out, a hot shower after a long night can also wake you up considerably. You were lucky enough to have a bathroom attached to your room; it made the transition of getting out and getting dressed easier.

Or so you thought.

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world,” Steve said, lying on top of your bed, his arms behind his head. “T’would be a pity to damage yours.”

You stood in the bathroom doorway, robe halfway on, your hair tied up. “Steve?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“What—how—why—HOW did you get into my room?”

“You keep your windows unlocked. I’ve been plotting a route up here for days, ever since you agreed to do Princess Bride costumes. I wanted to surprise you.”

You stared at him, open mouth, not paying attention to your robe as it slowly opened up more. He smiled at you wider, sitting up a little on your bed. “Too much? Too cheesy?”

You shook your head and grasped at your robe, pulling it tighter (causing Steve’s smile to fade a bit). “Steve, I watched as you and Dustin made pew-pew and clanking noises for five minutes. I don’t think it was too cheesy.”

He sat back, relieved.

“Besides,” you walked over to your bed and sat down on the other side. “What I like most about you is your cheesiness.”

Steve quickly turned his head towards you and scoffed. “I am not—”

“Steve. You’re cheesy. Charming. Gallant and almost stoic to a fault. Maybe not the most gracious with words or coordination…but that is why I love you.”

Steve looked at you, his mouth a straight line. “Ms. Henderson,” he began, sitting up once again. “I believe you’ve just said something there is no going back from.”

You blinked. “I did?”

He smirked and scootched closer to you. “You looooooove me.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot—not just because you were embarrassed, but because you hadn’t planned on telling him on accident. There were three options you could go with now. Option one: playfully hit him and deny it. Option two: kiss him to shut him up. Option three: disrobe and distract him completely.

You knew which option it had to be.

You faced him and gently reached up to cup his cheek, pulling him closer to you. “Steve Harrington, I have loved you since the first day you brought Dustin home with a smile on his face. I love your charm, and your determination, and how incredibly stupid you can be, risking your life for everyone in an attempt to always be a better version of yourself.” You kept eye contact with him, watching him as he watched you. “You may act like you don’t care, or that you’re too cool, or that you hate being the babysitter, but I know you Steve. And I love what I see.” You reached up to run your fingers to the back of his head, your eyes flicking between his and his lips. “I love you, Steve Harrington.”

This kiss was different than the ones you’ve had in the past. It was more passionate—more pure; it left all the others behind Steve would quote to you later on—and left you feeling light headed. Slowly, you found yourself crawling up on your knees. He grabbed at your waist and pulled you flush against him, one hand pawing at the small of your back and the other cradling the back of your head, reaching up to loosen your hair so it cascaded down and tickled your ears. You turned your head to deepen the kiss, your hands digging into his hair to keep a semblance of keeping upright. Ultimately this was useless as you found yourself melting into him, sighing unapologetically as he nipped at your bottom lip. He reached his hand up to cup your face and pulled apart for the briefest of seconds before he lightly kissed you once; twice; three times before resting his forehead on yours, his breathing faster in effort to catch his breath.

His eyes remain closed, but yours looked at him gently, your cheeks red and your mouth slightly agape.

“You know, Ms. Henderson,” he opened his eyes finally and flicked them up to match yours, a cheeky smile growing on his puffy lips. “I love you too.”

You leaned in to give him another kiss, soft and gentle, the smile on your face growing wider. “You know,” you said, breaking away from the kiss, much to Steve’s disappointment. “Since you went through all that trouble of recreating the scene where Westley comes to rescue Buttercup…”

Steve gently fixed your hair behind your ear, his eyes only leaving yours for a minute. You reached up to place your hand on top of his before placing it back down across his chest. You smirk. He had less than a second to register as you pushed him down on the bed, straddled him, and reached for the belt of your robe, loosening it. “Why not really give into the scene?”

Steve’s mouth closed shut as his eyes moved up and down on you, watching as you leaned forward and began to kiss him, starting with his forehead and working your way down to the two tiny little moles along his jawline.

“Gently,” he whispered, his hands on your hips.

“At a time like this, that’s all you can think of to say? Gently?” You tuck one hand behind his head and lift him up slightly, grabbing his mouth in yours.

“Gently,” he said again before you released him from your kiss, his head knocking against the headboard of your bed. “Ouch.”

You giggled. “That’s for Robin. Stop quoting the movie to her at work so much.”

Steve took a hand off of you and rubbed at the back of his head. “Fine,” he said, scooting himself down further so his head was at the bottom of the pillow. “I’d much rather hear you quote the movie to me anyway. It’s hot…”

You placed a finger over his mouth and smirked before leaning back down to kiss him again. “As you wish.”

#Stranger Things Fanfic #Steve Harrington x Reader #Harrington x Reader

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