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#now I'm alone with no one to take care of me I need someone to take care of me
Note
Thank youuu, maayybbee a comforting headcanons about your choice of Creepypasta with a reader who is like uh like really really tired in all sort of ways that they won’t cooperate in anything, mind being so nice to give them a whole slideshow of their messed up childhood and
Y’know just a really fucked out reader
Sorry if it’s y’know too much or anything, you can do it whenever you want!
-🐰
I love writing comfort scenarios <33
Credits to divider goes to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their works
Thank you so much for requesting!!
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Ticci Toby
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He understands that sometimes, everything is too much and your brain just kind of shuts down
But he is also a very anxious person
So when he sees you laying in bed, the exact same position you were in when he left in the morning, he gets a little concerned
Have you moved at all? Have you eaten? Drank anything? Taken a shower?
But he respects your privacy and doesn't ask you about it, assuming maybe you just wanted a lazy day to yourself
So he brings his dinner up to you that night, sharing just in case this is in fact the first you've eaten all day
And when you continue this behavior the next day, he begins to panic
The other creeps know something's up too, or at least, E.J does, because once Toby gets home E.J approaches him about it
"Hey, I asked y/n to clean the equipment they used in the gym last time and they just said no. They also seemed pretty lethargic, barely moving or breathing at all. Nothing to worry about right now, but it is concerning."
And with that, he walks off, seemingly not even wanting an answer, just wanting to give Toby a heads up
So once again, Toby goes to your room once again, seeing that you still haven't moved
"You haven't moved." He says
"Mhm" you respond absently, scrolling on your phone
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, beginning to get nervous
"Mhm" you respond once more, though it's not a real response it's just one to make him happy
"Um. EJ said you didn't want to clean the gym equipment you used?" He fidgets with his fingers now, picking at the dry skin
"Mhm" Is the only thing you say, and the only thing you're going to say he realizes
So he comes to sit on the bed next to you, moving some of your hair out of your face (if you have any, if you don't he rubs your back) "Are you ok? You can talk to me, you know? I love you"
This seems to trigger something in you, because instantly a flood of tears happens
This startles him, but he continues to comfort you nonetheless
He pulls you up and drapes your arms over his shoulders, while his go around your body, rubbing your back and head
He doesn't talk because he doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he silently rubs you and kisses you until your sobs turn into sniffles
"Let me take care of you tomorrow?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes
You pull him back into the hug and nod "please"
Jeff The Killer
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Jeff doesn't really know how to deal with his own emotions, let alone someone else's
So when he sees you in a funk, he decides to just leave you alone and let you deal with it yourself, because he doesn't trust himself enough to actually help instead of hurt
But this of course, it seen as him leaving you in your time of need from your perspective
So this only makes matters worse, causing you to snap at others for small things, like when Toby accidentally bumps into you while you are on the way to get another snack
He of course, apologizes profusely, but it just isn't your day so you yell at him and tell him to be more careful next time
When Jeff gets home, Toby is talking about the incident with another creep
Not in a malicious way, but in a concerned way
This peaks Jeff's interest "What are you saying about my partner over there??"
"I'm just worried is all. They totally blew up after I accidentally bumped into them" Toby says, putting his hands up defensively
Jeff scoffs and rolls his eyes, already tired of the mood you're in
So he goes up to your room and walks in angrily saying "Why are you being such a dick? What'd Toby ever do to you?"
You don't feel like arguing, so you snuggle further into your bed
He laughs at this "Seriously? You're gonna ignore me? Listen dude, I don't know who you think you are but I really don't like this fucking color on you. Fix your attitude before I fix it for you" And with that he slams your door
Next day, you bump into each other in one of the hallways, and he tries to talk to you obviously seeing you still upset, but you push past him
Or at least try to
He quickly catches you and pins you against a wall "Just listen to me, won't you?!" he yells
This is all too much for you, so you begin to cry, bowing your head so maybe he won't see it
He softens at this, loosening his grip and looking at you confusedly "Why....why are you crying?"
"Why are you being so mean to me??" You ask as you sob
He sighs and brings you into a tight hug "Ok.....Ok tell me how long you've been upset"
"A long time!" You say truthfully "It's not even about Toby!"
"Why didn't you say anything??" He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder
You grip onto his chest and try to catch your breath before talking "Because you left and I thought you didn't want to see me!" You whine in a fast, high pitched voice
Despite this, he seems to catch every word "No, baby, baby....I always wanna see you I just didn't wanna hurt you...." He whispers into your head
"But you did!" You say into his shoulder
"I know....I'm sorry" He rubs your back a bit before kissing your head
"....really?" you sniffle
"Yeah" He pulls away and lifts your head to kiss your forehead, before pulling you back into the hug
You are quiet for a while, standing in the hallway and holding each other before you finally break the silence "it did feel good to cry"
He snorts and pulls away "Well I'm glad you liked it, because now I have snot and spit all over my hoodie"
You smile and kiss his nose "You love it"
Ben Drowned
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Barely moving himself, he probably won't notice for a little bit
But when he does, he just assumes you're in a lazy mood, So he tries to snuggle up with you in bed
You flip over, avoiding his touch which makes him raise an eyebrow "Hey, you ok? It's cool if you just wanna be alone but this isn't like you"
"I'm fine" you say quickly
"....oookay.....do you want me to leave you alone?" He asks, his face changing from confused to concerned
You don't answer for a long while, but when you finally do you say "no"
"ok" he says simply, staying to his own side of the bed while he plays video games
Eventually, you begin to cry softly, and you flip back over to snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala
He looks at you for a moment before putting the game aside for a second and petting your head "I thought you said you were ok?"
You shake your head and cling harder
"Alright, c'mere" he says, pulling you up into his lap and putting your head in the crook of his neck
You try to hide your face away in his shoulder, but he grabs your chin before you get the chance "Hold still, I wanna kiss you" he says
With this, he kisses anywhere he can reach, eventually letting you drop your head back onto his shoulder while he grabs onto your arm and kisses from your shoulder all the way down to the tips of your fingers
Once he is done, he looks down at you, seeing that you are now only sniffling he uses a knuckle to wipe away any remaining tears "now are you ok?"
You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek "Good. I like seeing you happy"
He then pecks your lips and hands you another controller, so that you can play the previously discarded game together
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anangelwhodidntfall · 13 hours
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Take A Chance: Rafe Cameron
Outer Banks Masterlist
word count: 800
description: tried of seeing your heart broken by losers, Rafe decides to take matters into his hands...will you accept?
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Another failed talking stage but yet you were so attached. You had been in your room rotting away for at least two days now only stepping out when no one was around to see you and how miserable you were over a talking stage. 
You were currently laying in bed softly crying thinking how you were destined to be alone at this rate. So lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear your bedroom door open until you saw him kneeling in front of you with a frown on his face. 
"He doesn't deserve your tears sunshine." He said gently wiping your tears. 
"I know but it still hurts Rafe, every time I try to start a relationship with a guy it always fails...I just wish I was good enough." You said sadly. 
"But you are good enough sunshine, someday you will find someone who show you how good enough you are." He said as you leaned into his touch. 
Rafe's heart was breaking seeing you like this...seeing you so heartbroken over some loser that clearly didn't appreciate you. 
"Rafe can you lay with me for a bit?" You asked him softly.
"Of course sunshine." He said softly kicking his shoes off. 
He climbed into your bed next to you before beckoning to come crawl into his arms which you happily did. He laid there running a hand through your hair until he heard your breathing even out and then he pulled out his phone and started planning something special for you. Rafe had been in love with you for years but due to his issues he always kept them to himself never wanting to hurt you or involve you in his mess but now he had no choice. 
"She's gonna love that, are you finally going to tell her?" Sarah asked standing by your door. 
"You think so?  I want this to be perfect for her she deserves to know that there is someone out there that truly loves her." He said placing a kiss on your forehead making you snuggle into him. 
"Yes Rafe she's gonna love it. I'm gonna go since you are here with her but let me know if you need anything." Sarah said. 
A few days later you were feeling a bit better than you had been the last two weeks. You were currently getting ready for a surprise that Rafe said he had for you unsure what he was up to. 
You had just finished putting on your shoes when you heard him knock on the door. You walked over to the door and opened it and there he was standing there looking so handsome as always, with a bouquet of sunflowers.  
"Wow sunshine you look absolutely gorgeous." He said. 
"Thank you Rafe, you look handsome as well." You said with a small smile. 
"These are for you, I know how much you love sunflowers." He said handing them to you as your heart melted. 
"You remembered?" You asked shocked as none of your past relationships did. 
"Of course I did, I remember everything about you sunshine." He said with a smile. 
You quickly put them in some water so they wouldn't die and met him by the door, where he lead you out to his truck and helped you into it. You guys made small talk as he drove to wherever he was taking you, and soon enough you guys were at the private beach that you guys liked to come to. He parked his truck and helped you out and that's when you saw a beautiful picnic setup by the beach making you look at Rafe. 
"Rafe what is going on? What's all this?" You asked him. 
"Sunshine bare with me...this is all new for me but I wanted to take you on a small date to show you that there is someone out there who cares for you and wants you and thinks the world of you." He said nervously. 
"Why now Rafe?" You asked him. 
"Because sunshine I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away but after seeing you hurt once again by some loser, I couldn't keep hiding from you any longer. So I know this is a big ask sunshine, but please take a chance on me and let me show you the kind of relationship you deserve." He said.
You were shocked by his confession let alone that he did all of this for you but deep down you had always had feelings for Rafe and that all these talking stages were attempts to get your mind off of him. 
"Rafe I would like to give us a chance." You said with a smile. 
Hearing you say that made a huge smile spread across Rafe's face as he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your lips. 
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kefiteria · 1 day
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FOR YOUR EYES ONLY.
A comfort letter from Scaramouche to you.
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So, I've noticed you've been retreating into your mind more than usual lately. It's like you're doing a disappearing act even Houdini would envy. But hey, I get it. People are complicated creatures, and occasionally it feels safer to hide behind our thoughts than to face the chaos out there.
About this facade you've got going on. You know, the one where you're holding on to your inner child like it's a winning lottery ticket? It's almost comical how tightly you cling to it, as if someone's lurking around the corner waiting to snatch it away. Newsflash: nobody's taking it from you, dear.
Now, about those tears. I know, I know, crying is for the weak, right? Wrong. Even the toughest nuts crack sometimes. Take it from me, I've shed more tears than I care to admit, and yet here I am, still standing, still better as ever. You don't have to plaster on that smile 24/7, you know. Let those tears flow like a leaky faucet if you need to.
And speaking of tough times, let's talk about failure. It's not the end of the world, despite what your overactive brain might be telling you. Trust me, I've had my fair share of failures, and look at me now—still standing, scheming and myself.
So, when are you going to cut yourself some slack? Stop beating yourself up over things that are as out of your control as the weather. Tomorrow's just another day in the grand circus of life, and guess what? I'm your ringmaster, baby. You're not in this alone.
And those feelings you've been bottling up? Yeah, it's time to pop the cork and let 'em out. Trust me, it's like a pressure valve for the soul. Cry if you need to, scream into the void if you must. Just don't keep it all locked up inside. That's a recipe for disaster, believe me.
So, here's the deal: you're not alone in this. I've got your back, whether you're crying like a baby or plotting world domination (ugh just do it in moderation though). Just remember, it's okay to let your guard down once in a while. After all, even the sharpest swords need a little sharpening now and then.
Alright, let's wrap this up before I start growing a conscience or something equally absurd. Seriously, who knew pouring my heart out on paper could be so exhausting? I feel like I've been on a marathon run through a field of emotional landmines, and I'm not even wearing my running shoes.
But hey, if this little rant of mine manages to knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours, then I guess it's worth the carpal tunnel I'm bound to get from all this writing. Just promise me one thing: don't go making a habit out of this whole “feeling your feelings” nonsense. It's bad for my image.
So, there you have it. Consider this your one and only free pass to the sappy side of Scaramouche. Don't get used to it. Now go on, get out there and conquer the world, or cry yourself a river, whichever floats your boat. Just remember: you're not alone in this crazy circus we call life. I've got your back, whether you like it or not.
“It's okay, your world, and feelings are precious, so precious just like you are now.”
Fondly yours (don't make it a habit),
Scaramouche.
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sciderman · 21 hours
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ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!
Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.
Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.
I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.
I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3
hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...
i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)
i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.
it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...
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the-lark-ascending69 · 23 hours
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I didnt love S3 but Steve peaked there. Robin became the final puzzle piece he needed to complete his development - thanks to the actors because the duffers clearly didn't know what to do with him. Steve spent the last three seasons chasing after a girl who would never be his soulmate, and when he accepted that, he tried to find someone else to love instead. He tried flirting with any girl whose attention he could hold for over 60 seconds, except for Robin - setting her apart already, though for the wrong reasons initially. She was originally meant to be Nancy's replacement as Steve's arm candy, it seems, but making her a lesbian at the last moment is really what saves S3 for me, not only because she's my baby, my favorite character and I adore her with my whole heart, but also because... the improvised straightbait turned out to work incredibly well at the time to cement the conclusion of Steve's arc - he was a piece of shit and lost Nancy to someone who was better for her (say what you want about Jonathan, but that's clearly the idea the writers had with him, regardless of the effectiveness of the execution). Steve couldn't get Nancy back, and really, he shouldn't be focusing on romance at all because that's just not what he needs to grow as a person. The people who truly challenge him, push him to be better and motivate him to grow are his platonic bonds - Dustin and Robin. He couldn't "fix" everything with Nancy (meaning that he couldn't go back to before everything changed, as if he hadn't messed up). Nancy may appreciate the change but she won't go back to him. Steve doesn't need to change for love - he needs to change for himself, in order to be a better person, period. And Nancy has no reason to stay and watch him grow, she has her own matters to attend to, and she doesn't have enough space in her life for Steve. So Steve finds new people, somewhere else, away from Nancy, and he grows thanks to them.
Robin being not only just his friend but also being completely and eternally unavailable to him works perfectly here. The audience believed, alongside Steve (and the Duffers lmfao) that what Steve needed was romantic love, but Robin proves him wrong. He gets over his ex-girlfriend and finds a sister instead.
And then Season 4 ruins that, for no reason and to no one's benefit. Steve regresses. The growth is undone, for the purpose of keeping Nancy in that eternal love triangle loop that seemed to have been solved two seasons ago. It's sad and disappointing and I'm hoping they don't revisit that in S5.
What I would've done instead would've been to let Steve finish his arc in S3. S4 Steve has a flat arc now. He learned all he had to learn. He's fine. Now, he's here to teach others what he's learned, and I think it would be very interesting if the person who learned from him the most turned out to be Nancy. Steve basically just discovered the power of friendship, and deep emotional connections and trust and how closeness to others makes you stronger. Gives you a purpose. He learned to love and care for others and now that's his strength. Have him tell her about how much he cares about Robin and Dustin. Show him bonding more with Lucas and Max. Contrast him with Nancy, who is isolated, who just lost another friend after leaving him alone, and is desperately trying to protect Max from Vecna. Maybe she's hesitant to become friends with Robin, or to rely on her and Steve to share the burden, or trust the kids to take care of themselves on some capacity. Nancy has become more and more isolated as Steve grows closee to other people.
Then Steve sacrifices himself in S5 to save either Robin or Dustin or both of them idk I think that would be the best conclusion to his arc. Passing on the torch to one of them. Maybe Robin becomes the new babysitter and protector. Maybe Dustin becomes the new hot boy at Hawkins High idk but I think an ending of this sort would fit. He doesn't even need to actually die, if he somehow survives it still works, just having a sacrifice scene (not played for laughs) would be a perfect way to conclude his growth and move on to inspire others to grow like others have done for him.
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sydsaint · 1 day
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Things are a-changing in everyone's favorite polycule!!!
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Summary: The WWE draft rolls around and GM!Reader invites Ava to observe. But that's not the only thing on her agenda for the first night of the draft.
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It's late Thursday night as you finish up packing your bags for your flight to Cincinnati. Smackdown is hosting the first night of the draft in the city tomorrow, and it's bound to be an interesting show.
Off to the side of the room, the door creaks open. You glance at the door as Knight leans against the door frame. "You almost ready to go, gorgeous?" He asks you.
"Yeah." You nod and turn back to your bag. "Is everything in the apartment off? And did you set the feeder on the fish tank for the weekend?" You ask him.
Knight pushes off the door and walks over to you. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. "Everything is taken care of, darlin'. Like always." He assures you. "Your boy toys are already on their flight. We're just waiting on you now, boss lady." He teases you.
"God, reliability is so sexy on you." You zip up your suitcase before turning around in Knight's arm. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean up for a kiss. "Can you take my bags down? I need to make a quick phone call before we get to the airport."
"Of course, darlin." Knight nods and lets you go from his arms. "Anything for you, sweetheart." He winks at you before grabbing your bags and hauling them off out to the car.
You fish your phone from your back pocket and begin switching off lights as you move through the apartment. You dial the number you need and the line rings a few times before someone finally picks up.
"Yeah? This is, Ava." A sweet female voice answers the call.
"Ava!" You smile to yourself and switch the last light in the apartment off. "Hey, it's YN. The GM for Smackdown?" You introduce yourself.
You hear rustling on the other side of the phone before Ava finally answers you. "Yeah! Of course! Hi." She answers with enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?" She asks you.
"I actually had a sort of business proposition for you." You explain. "I'm going to assume you know that Smackdown is hosting the first night of the draft, right?" You ask Ava.
"Yeah." Ava replies.
You linger at the front door of the apartment and check the security system one last time before locking the door and stepping outside. "Well, I'd like to formally invite you to Smackdown to be a guest on the show." You inform Ava. "If, of course, you're willing to fly out to Cincinnati by tomorrow night."
"Really?" Ava sounds surprised by your proposal. "Umm, yeah! That sounds great! I think that I can make it in time for Smackdown tomorrow." She adds, and you can hear more rustling on the other end of the line.
"Sounds great!" You smile to yourself. "Listen, I have to head out and catch my flight. But you have my number, so text me when you get your travel plans figured out. We can talk more later, okay?"
"Yeah, okay." Ava agrees and hangs up the call.
You put your phone back into your pocket and make your way out to the car. Knight has just finished packing up your bags by the time you get out there and greets you.
"You have a productive phone call?" Knight asks you.
"It was, yes." You nod and walk around to the passenger side of the car.
Knight comes around with you and gets the door. "Glad to hear it, sweetie. You ready to go?" He asks you.
You nod and the two of you head out to the airport.
The next afternoon you pull into the arena in Cincinnati alone, Knight, Waller, and Theory haven already arrived and been engrossed in some meet-and-greets for a few hours now. You head through the security gate and make your way down to your office. When you step into the hallway leading to said office, Waller and Theory are mingling outside the door.
"Gray? Austin?" You catch their attention as you make your way toward them. "What are you two doing back here? Don't you have a meet-and-greet before the show?" You glance down at your watch, briefly.
"Event ended a little bit ago." Austin explains and pushes off the wall he's been leaning against.
Grayson does the same and springs up to help you with the bag slung over your shoulder. "Thank you, sweetie." You thank Grayson and make it to your office door.
You head inside the office with Grayson and Austin following behind you. Grayson sets your bag down onto the desk in the room and you walk around it to sit down in the provided chair.
"How'd the event go? Lots of screaming girls thirsting over the two of you?" You muse and begin unloading your bag.
"Well, we are WWE's sexiest tag team." Austin chuckles and leans against the front of your desk.
Grayson laughs with him and they high-five before Grayson turns back to you. "Not that you ever have to worry about any of those simps, YN." He assures you.
"Good to know." You giggle and boot up your laptop. "Did either of you see Knight at the event center?" You ask them, attention on your laptop.
"We went by his booth on the way out of the center." Austin answers you. "He looked like he was wrapping things up."
You nod and enter your password on your laptop to boot things up. "Good, I have something for him to do for me tonight." You glance up at Austin and Grayson. "As for you two. No match tonight, sorry. But! I do have you two scheduled against Tez and Dawkins next week." You inform them.
"Not a problem." Grayson replies confidently. "That mean you're kicking us out for the night?" He jokes with you.
"Fraid so, pretty boy." You nod with a playful smile. "After one of you gets me a coffee from catering." You add.
Austin and Grayson both chuckle and Austin nods at you. "I got you, babe."
Gray and Austin head out and you try and get some work done before everyone from the Smackdown and Raw draft teams begin to show up. Knight eventually shows up to check in on you after he's done with his meet-and-greet.
"Working hard in here, sweetheart?" Knight saunters into the room with his usual confident swagger.
"Extremely." You laugh. "Thanks for stopping in, sweetie. I've got a job for you to handle real quick, then you're off for the night with the boys." You explain.
Knight nods and leans on your desk. He waits patiently and watches you answer a text on your phone before you turn your attention back to him.
"I've got a special guest joining me on Smackdown tonight." You set your phone down and glance up at him. "Ava Raine from NXT. She should be arriving soon. So, can you meet her and bring her down her for me, please?" You ask him.
"Sure." Knight nods. "No problem. Ava Raine, huh? She's that bright-eyed girl you were talking with last week at the PC, right?" He asks you.
You nod and get another text on your phone. You read it briefly and rise out of your chair. "Thank you, sweetie. You can just bring her back here. But I've got to go meet with Pearce and Hunter really fast before the show." You explain.
Knight nods and gets the door for you. The two of you part ways for the time being, and Knight heads on down to the loading docks to wait for Ava to show up.
It isn't long before Ava's uber pulls into the loading bay. She thanks the driver with a grateful smile and checks her phone one last time. There's a text waiting for her when she unlocks it.
Sent one of my boys down to meet you. See you in my office! :)
Ava reads the text before locking her phone again and stepping out of the back of her Uber. She scans the loading bay for signs of anyone waiting for her and it doesn't take her long to notice lingering around.
"Umm...hi." Ava walks over to Knight, unsure if he's who she should be lookingg for. "LA Knight, right?" She asks nervously.
"You know it, sweetheart." Knight flashes a grin at Ava and nods. "Boss sent me down to pick you up." He explains. "Come on. She wants you in her office before Smackdown starts."
Ava nods and follows behinnd Knight as he takes off further into the building. She rushes to Knight's side and falls into step with him.
"It's nice to meet you, by the way." Ava offers Knight a friendly smile. "Officialy I mean. I obviously know who are and all." She adds with a laugh.
"Pleasures all mine, sweetheart." Knight replies smoothly.
The rest of the journey back to your office is mostly silent. The pair reach the door and Knight knocks twice before pulling open the door.
"I went ahead and picked up that special package for you, darlin." Knight announces as he comes through the door with Ava.
"Perfect! Thank you, Shaun, sweetie. That's all I need for tonight." You look up from your phone, sitting beind your desk and looking all professional. "Ava!" You stand up and greet her with a wide smile. "It's good to see you again. I am so glad that you could make it."
You come around the desk and pull Ava into a hug. Knight gives you a nod and heads off back to the locker rooms for the night.
"I'm super honored that you offered to have me on the show!" Ava replies as you release her from your embrace.
"Of course!" You nod and gesture for Ava to take a seat while the two of you still have time to chat. "I like you, Ava. Honestly? You remind me alot of myself 20 years ago." You admit.
Ava nods and you can read the surprise on her face at your claim. "Really? Wow." She gushes. "I don't really know what to say." Ava rubs the back of her neck.
"Don't sweat it, Ava." You laugh casually. "You've got all the making of a future powerhouse in this business, kid. You're smart, talented, and passsioniate. Not to mention who your father is." You add. "All you need is a little guidance. And I'm here to provide that for you."
"You are?" Ava replies. "But why me?" She asks you.
You smile to yourself and glance down at your watch. Hunter and Pearce will be by to grab you any minute now.
"Like I said earlier. I like you, Ava." You answer her. "And, we need more women in posistions of power in this business, don't you think?" You add.
Ava nods and your smile widens. "Atta girl, Ava. Now come on!" You rise out of your chair and pick up a few papers off your desk. "Smackdown is airing in about ten minutes so we should be heading down to the conference rooms." You gesture for her to follow you.
Ava nods again and pops quickly to her feet. The two of you mingle all the way down to the conference rooms. Hunter and Pearce are both waiting when you arrive.
"YN." Hunter greets you with a friendly smile and handshake before noticing Ava standing behind you. "And, Ava?" He glances at her.
"Ava's here on my request, Hunter." You explain. "I felt like since some of her NXT stars are eligable to be called up tonight that she should be involved, right?"
Hunter nods in agreement and you take it as a good sign. Hunter and Ava step away to chat for a minute and you turn toward Pearce idling nearbye.
"Got a new pupil, YN?" Pearce teases you casually. "I gotta say. I never pegged you for the sympathetic type." He adds.
"Ava's an investment into the future of this company, Adam." You reply. "And you'd be smart to become friendly with her. Or I might end up aquiring all of NXT's best stars." You grin at him.
Pearce snorts and the two of you shake hands. Hunter lets Ava go and she returns to your side. Smackdown kicks off live on the air so Hunter heads off to appear on camera. You and Pearce step up to your respective conference rooms and head inside them. Ava follows silently behind you as you step inside the room.
"Good evening everyone." You adress the room. "I'm sure some of you regonize Ava Raine, the GM of NXT. Ava is here as a guest of mine, here to observe and learn." You explain. "Now! Let's all get to work in making sure that Smackdown stays the A-show, shall we? Starting with making sure that we draft Carmelo Hayes before Raw has a chance to take him."
You make your way across the room and sit down at the head of the table. You nod to the empty seat to your right and Ave sits doww silently.
Now it's time to get to work.
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b4kuch1n · 1 year
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fuck it sk8 sketches from da sketchbook. get sk8ed idiot
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dont-offend-the-bees · 2 months
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We need better fucking care infrastructure. I should not be trusted with anyone's care ever 💛
#thing is caring for myself? I'm not GREAT at it but i can scrape by#i know my limits i know how much or little i need to survive i know that i can usually more or less bounce back after a tough time#i think if my life fell out from under me i could probably scrape it back even if i wound up doing a lot of couch surfing in the meantime#i genuinely don't know how I'll survive if i have to be fucking sole carer for someone#dad's on his way back now and he's been prescribed antibiotics and hopefully that's that#but at least a couple of times a year there's some shit like this#an awful cough or an infection or a fucking insane choice to like do some diy on the outside of the house standing on the windowsill#he fucking nearly chokes on his food once or twice a week#maybe he's just one of those cockroach type motherfuckers who'll never die no matter how the universe steps on him#but I'm fucking PISSED that he's taking that for granted and won't even sit and fucking talk to me about what happens when his luck runs out#I've been looking after mum alone for what four hours today and I'm already so tired and frustrated i wanna die#i am. a deeply impatient and unsociable creature.#i can be infinitely patient with friends! those are my fave people i chose to have them in my life I'd wait like a fucking mountain for them#mum and i were.... already sort of At Odds before all this started.#i'm the kid she never 100% really wanted and who never really 100% wanted to be here#and now we're stuck together and one day possibly sooner than any of us want it will be. just the two of us.#and i just. i don't know what that looks like. i really don't.#anyway. mental breakdown over hopefullly.#with a bit of luck dad and i actually fucking TALK before the next one#idk man. i never really knew what i wanted to do with my life but i thought I'd have time to figure it out#but maybe I'm just. the unqualified burnout with covid memory damage and a whole ass other human to care for#the exact thing i set out to avoid when i decided never to have kids#anyway. enough oversharing.#thank you anyone who's read my spiralling tag rambles in solidarity i love you#mr. bees speaks
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sensitivegoblin · 4 months
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The depression is really really really bad so I'm sorry if I super ghost y'all
I'm just having a hard time wanting to do anything but rot in bed
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stinkbeck · 1 month
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try to calm down and have a good time but then it’s like shit goes downhill sooo fast if i’m not overthinking everything. like UGH look what my trust has gotten me! god i hate relying on people.
#i just got too TIRED!!!!! i’m stressed and exhausted and i slipped a few times and now i already know my options have narrowed to one.#every time i have to rely on my parents the Worst Case Scenario happens. the thing i’m absolutely trying to avoid at all costs is what they#sabotage me into doing. i’m so fucking tired!!!!! i can’t rest for a second!!!!! god i’m such an idiot#whatever. whatever. how many times have i had to start my life over from scratch? it's not like it's fucking new.#but u know what. that means i'm tossing all my goddamned sketchbooks. photos too. they can come out here + see what's#worth salvaging#you think my life is so temporary it isn't worth anything at all? you come out here and sort it out.#jk i'm gonna just tell them to forget about it all and i'll figure it out on my own. sometimes i guess i ask for help + it's the wrong move#if i just think a little more on my own and say 'nobody else exists so i'll have to make the sacrifices on my own and take the long#arduous route' then it's fine. i knew i shouldn't have asked for help to begin with. i just sometimes want to believe there's someone there#who can help me. i think i just get weak sometimes. i want someone to care when i'm scared and have no knowledge about#what steps i have to take to do something#if i just let myself be scared alone but not fall into a total doom spiral then i can eventually pull myself out by researching#i just need to remember that. everything takes work and sacrifice but it's better than making some kind of deal.
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i got into one minor car accident eight years ago and my parents will never forget it
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Many of the younger ccs speaking up about Wilbur's manipulation is INCREDIBLY concerning, and I don't think they'll be the last. I think it's also a big indication that it happened to Tommy too, and that he'll take a while to respond. People demanding an immediate response need to remember that he was likely a victim of it too, he just may not have been aware of it.
I mean, Wilbur's ADMITTED he relied on Tommy for his mental health when he was still a minor. That is NOT something adults should ever do and it has always been odd to me. It also makes it very hard for the minor involved to leave the friendship, since they see themselves as responsible for the older person. I don't think I need to really go into how unhealthy that sort of thing is, it isn't an uncommon occurrence and lot of people will have a better explanation than me. But it is something to keep in mind, that Tommy may feel responsible or have been groomed to excuse the behavior.
The library stream is another example of the manipulation, and I'm surprised no one is talking about it. Tommy literally talked about how uncomfortable he was at Wilbur's house. It was cold, he had no blanket, he didn't want to keep staying there, he would rather be out in public at night in a strange place. Then Wilbur just shows up out of nowhere and tells Tommy he's misremembering/being dramatic and pretty much shuts him up, gets him to stop talking shit about him. Everyone's exasperation with Tommy in the situation (being a minor alone and uncomfortable and uncertain of what to do, far from home with nowhere to go), helped Wilbur pull Tommy back in and convince him to go back to his house, especially since it was passed off as Wilbur being caring.
It was obvious to me during the stream that Tommy was telling the truth and Wilbur was the one lying, but I figured he was just being defensive because he didn't want all that online. Now we know that he had a LOT more to hide about his living situation that he didn't want being spilled, and manipulators/abusers don't tend to like it when someone goes and starts talking about the truth. They want to downplay it as much as possible, and Wilbur showing up in person to shut Tommy up and make fun of him for not wanting to stay with him, make it more lighthearted, is incredibly telling and I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone point that out.
There are so many other things I found odd throughout the years that finally have a proper explanation to them, but that's just a few examples. I'm not going to get too much further into it. Wilbur isn't who we should be focusing on, I just needed to get that out to move on from it.
I do think pointing out that Tommy has openly been manipulated is important because it may cause him to take a while to respond openly to all this while he processes. If Wilbur treated so many of his ex-friends badly it's safe to assume he did it to all of them, and we need to give everyone involved time to stop and think about the situation. A lot of people want Tommy to respond immediately, but he will need time to do that and it's only fair we give him the space to do that properly.
I also think it is so, so incredible that Shelby has given so many people the space and bravery to come forward. I believe there will be more people speaking up soon, they just need time. Support her and other victims!
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ozzgin · 2 months
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
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You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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The Love (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.
Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.
Word Count: 1,323
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.
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Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.
He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.
"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.
She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.
"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.
"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."
"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't know what love is."
Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.
"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."
Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.
"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."
"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."
"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.
"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."
"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"
Alastor looked up from his glass.
"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."
"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.
"Actually, I do."
Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.
"Alastor! You've been in love!?"
Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.
"Yes."
Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.
"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.
"It was a long time ago."
Alastor took a long sip from his glass.
"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.
"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."
He trailed off, taking a breath.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.
Alastor shook his head.
"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."
"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.
Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.
"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."
"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"
"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."
"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."
"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"
"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."
Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.
"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.
"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."
Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.
"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"
"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."
"Then wh-"
"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"
"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.
"I'm sorry."
Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"
"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.
Charlie turned to him.
"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."
"Right you are, my dear."
"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"
Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.
"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."
"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."
"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."
"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.
"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"
"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."
The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.
"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.
"Y/n."
It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.
"Her name was Y/n."
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arachine · 7 months
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yes, i'm ready (to fall in love)
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── ˚₊✩‧₊ genre: smut, fluff, mild angst
── ˚₊✩‧₊ synopsis: after reader is persuaded into putting herself back out there by long time friend, shoko, she successfully ends up scoring a date. unbeknownst to her, though, the gods have different plans—and one of them seems especially interested in her relationship with ex-husband, gojo satoru.
or in other words: a failed date results in a night of passion amongst former lovers.
── ˚₊✩‧₊ contents: 13.5k words, ex-husband!gojo + co-parent!gojo, slight dub-con (alcohol use), dumbification, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, unconventional form of contraception (pull-out method - don’t do this), pussy eating + one oc for the sake of plot
── ˚₊✩‧₊ note: i know this is really long and most people don’t have the attention span for it but PLEASE give it a chance! this is literally the longest piece of fiction i’ve ever written and i’m really proud of it :(
songs to listen to for best reading experience: donny hathaway - i love you more than you’ll ever know barbara mason - i’m ready partynextdoor - showing you bryson tiller - been that way
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After you divorced your ex-husband, and decided to devote all of your time to being a mother, you never really considered getting back into the dating world. Not that you didn’t eventually want to settle down with someone new, but the dating world now was just so–different.
Different in the sense that meeting people organically was becoming increasingly difficult. It wasn’t like how it used to be in high school or college, and it really didn’t take that much effort then to get a man’s number by the end of your outing. 
When you were in your early twenties, a brush of your hand on a man’s arm would’ve worked. An ‘accidental’ bump into someone at a grocery store or cafe might’ve ended in a quick lay. Using these tactics today, though, might earn you some weird looks–have–earned you some weird looks. 
You’re on call with a friend from college when you begin recounting something embarrassing that happened to you recently. At first, the conversation started out about all of the professors you would’ve slept with (if given the chance), but then, one thing led to another, and she asked you something that made you wince: 
“‘How’s your dating life been since, you know, Satoru?’” 
There’s a heavy silence from your end, and she almost thinks you hung up. 
“I mean, if you want to share,” she splurts, attempting to approach this gently, “I know that after the divorce, I wasn’t there for you like you needed, but I’d like to make up for that–if you’d let me.”
Shoko’s always been like that. Blunt and charismatic, but gentle and zephyr-light in the way she cares for those closest to her. It’s a trait of hers that you admire, because not so many people would care to treat your heart with such fragility.
“No, it’s okay. You can ask, you know, it’s not this secret thing,” you start, sighing before continuing, “it happened, and it was a mutual decision.”
Shoko hums on the other side, “Well, I’m still sorry. I let us go without talking for far too long…”
“Well, I accept your apology, even if it’s unwarranted. Like I said, it was mutual and…there wasn’t really an intense grieving period for me? The only thing that hurt me is that you distanced yourself. I mean, the girls did miss their aunt Shoko…” you say, trying to make her feel bad but not too bad. 
“I know, I know, I’m a bad aunt,” she jests, then the tone shifts to something serious. “I think I was just scared because both of you were my best-friends. I didn’t want to ‘pick sides’, but I see now that it was a mutual decision, so I’m assuming you two are on good-terms?” 
Again, you pause, “I mean, yeah. Satoru will always be my best friend. We may not be together romantically but he’s such an integral part of my life, I couldn’t do this–all of this–alone.” After you say it, you feel a weight being lifted off of your chest that you didn’t know was even there. 
You think nobody would understand if you told them this. You think they’d question how a person could divorce someone who’s supposed to be their best-friend. And with the way you describe it, they’d probably think you were still in love with him. But Shoko’s different, she gets it. Which is why saying it to her came so easily. 
“He is a great father,” she chimes in, “but you two rushed into it so quickly, I don’t think either of you had time to discover yourselves after college.”
Although she can’t see it, you smile. Because she gets it. Even if time did place itself in between the two of you, she was there for most of it, when things were still touch-and-go. When things were fresh, and clumsy. 
“Exactly, that was our biggest gripe,” you admit, “We didn’t afford ourselves that time to grow, and I think that hindered our relationship. We weren’t husband and wife first, we were parents–and we were young, way too young.”
“You made it, though,” Shoko tries to brighten the mood, “you’re both amazing parents, and I know those beautiful girls that you created are lucky to have you.” 
The intimacy of the conversation sends your emotions into overdrive. You quickly realize how much you missed her, how much you yearned to talk to her. To reconnect on this level. 
A single tear cascades down your cheek, and you try not to sound like you’re crying when you say, “Ok, enough about that. You wanted to know about my shitty dating life, right?”
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It happened last week, the grocery store incident. You were out picking up a few things for dinner when you spotted a cute guy standing outside of the aisle a few rows from you. He was fit beyond measure, in looks and strength, and was wandering around aimlessly in pursuit of red pepper flakes. 
Coincidentally, you just happened to be in the seasoning aisle, and like the good samaritan you were, decided to personally hand-deliver it to him. 
You wince as you vividly recall the embarrassing ordeal that ensued immediately after. 
“Hey,” you peer from behind the aisle, with a bottle of red pepper flakes in tow. “I heard you mumbling about finding this, and you looked pretty lost, so I thought I’d pick ‘em out for you.” 
The man’s brows furrow briefly before his lips up-turn into a grateful smile, “Oh, cool, thank you so much!” As quickly as the conversation started, it ends even quicker. He gives you a final nod of endearment before he’s turning around on his heels to resume his shopping. 
“God, could he be any more dense? The men today really make you work for it, huh?” you mumble to yourself, pulling the bosom of your blouse down until a good amount of cleavage is on display. “Okay, alright. You got this, you got this. This always used to work, right? Yeah, men love boobs.”
Walking up to the man again, you try a different approach–a bolder approach. “Not to be a bother but I was wondering if I could-”
“Babe? Oh, there you are,” a new voice interjects. The owner of the voice emerges from around the corner and walks up to the man with a cart and a baby in tow. You’re stunned, to say the least. All you can do is stand there and blink in complete and utter dumbfoundment. As you remain in their presence, you take a moment to analyze the woman. She’s gorgeous, and toned. A real model-type broad, with feline-ish features that make so much sense paired with the man who appears to be her partner. 
Oh, you think, and apparently say aloud, too. That’s when the woman turns to you, finally acknowledging your much smaller, and much quieter presence. 
“Hi, can we help you?” she smiles, and it’s actually genuine. Toothy and perfect, and totally not jealous. You blink once, twice, before gathering your wits to answer her question. 
“Yeah, uh, no. I actually, uhm, was helping your h-husband. He was looking for red pepper flakes,” you mutter embarrassedly, and point to the bottle in his hand. Upon further observation, you notice that she isn’t exactly wearing a ring. You find this odd, especially because his not wearing a ring is what encouraged you to pursue him. Carefully, you prod. 
“If I may ask, how come neither of you are wearing rings?” The couple gives each other a look, one that makes you feel like the odd man out. A look that is universally known, and without a doubt, could easily be translated to: ‘did this chick really just ask that?’
Still, you smile as you wait for an answer. The woman takes the initiative. “Yeah, we don’t really believe in rings, isn’t that right, babe?” she says so matter-of-factly. You blink again for what seems like the thousandth time, because of all things, you did not expect that to come out of her mouth. Her husband is quick to validate her statement. 
“Yeah, we think rings are unnecessary, you know? You don’t need a piece of metal to confirm your feelings,” he says walking to his partner’s side and wrapping an arm around her. 
Disgustingly, the two give each other googly eyes before locking lips briefly. You can tell they’re the type to probably share this information with just about any soul who asks. Today, you just happened to be that unfortunate soul. 
“Are you married?” she queries, tilting her head against her husband’s chest.
“I was, now we just…co-parent,” you purse your lips, ready for this entire interaction to be over. The woman frowns at your answer, and this time it’s not as genuine.
“Awe, well, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was actually a mutual decision,” you quip.
“Okay,” she smiles, widening her eyes at her husband to signal a departure, “well, it was nice meeting you, and thank you for the red pepper flakes.”
The family turns away and heads to the front where check-out is. You don’t even buy the items you intended to purchase, just leave your cart in the middle of whatever aisle you abandoned it and leave the store.
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“Oh, baby, you didn’t?” Shoko asks in horror. You nod your head, still forgetting she can’t see you and the way you’re sliding down against the wall. 
“I did, and I shan't ever again,” a laugh erupts from your throat. 
“I mean, fuck, are we getting old? ‘Don’t believe in rings,’” she mumbles, “Don’t believe in rings, my ass! Is this what the youth are doing these days? Not proposing with rings?”
Now that you think about it, you wonder how that would even work. “Yeah, right? I mean, how does that even work? ‘Will you marry me? But, actually, you should know I don’t have a ring for you, so people will have to guess that we’re together purely based on vibes and energy,’” you mock, in a not-so-great man voice. 
Shoko’s laughing so hard by the end of your bit that she breaks the sound barrier, and the sound that makes on the phone sends you into your own fit of laughter. You laugh so hard it seems like a stream of pee comes out. Curse your developed incontinence after motherhood.
“God, you’re so stupid, I can’t breathe,” she says exasperatedly, and you know that on the other side she’s probably keeling over in her bed. 
“Oh, please. I bet you haven’t laughed this hard in a long time, bitch.”
“I haven’t,” she cackles. This back-and-forth continues until the two of you settle down enough to continue discussing your (pee-inducing) love life. 
“You tried any dating apps?” 
It’s a simple and valid question, but it only makes you laugh even harder. You only stop when the other side of the line goes quiet. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. It’s what everyone’s doing these days! You’re not that old, you know.”
“Shut up,” you kid, “ it’s just that I never considered it. I mean, dating apps feel so impersonal. How serious do people even take it?” 
“Sure, there’s people who use it for casual hook-ups and stuff, but a lot of people do come out of it with a relationship. Just don’t knock it ‘till you try it.”
“Oh?” you muse, curious. You wish Shoko could see your face, and the weird little dance your brows were doing. “Shoko, have you used a dating app before?” 
The brunette kisses her teeth. “Can’t get anything past you.”
“Never.”
There’s a sense of hesitance but you encourage her to elaborate because ‘she became estranged from you for almost a decade and needed to pay her dues’. Sighing defeatedly, she eventually acquiesces. 
“Fine, fine, maybe I’ve…been on a few dates,” she starts, “–and had a few one night stands, maybe more than a few, and maybe even dated a guy that turned into my stalker–”
“Ieiri Shoko! You naughty, naughty girl! Wait, stalker?”
“To make a long story short, I got a restraining order on that creep. Anyway,” she segues, attempting to change the subject, “We should make you a profile!”
For the rest of your phone call, Shoko guides you through all of the dating app basics. She offers her expert advice as you scroll through your camera roll for potential photos to use. You go through about a hundred before you finally settle on five that she really likes. 
The one that she tells you to put first is a photo of you in a bikini. It’s a few years old but she says you look ‘radiant’ and that your ‘tits were practically spilling out of the cups’. Plus, for further consolation, she says most people on dating apps are liars. 
“Everyone’s got at least one old photo on their profile, doesn’t make you a catfish,” she quips, “just means you’re a nostalgic person!” 
“Right…” 
The next one is a selfie. You’re smiling big in it, showing your gums, and it’s genuine. Shoko says guys like those types of photos because it shows them that you’re approachable. It also won her over because it’s fairly recent, too. 
Out of all your photos, there’s only a select few that were taken within the year. You had to admit to her that you never really took photos of yourself anymore. Satoru took most of your candids. Still, she had a mission. And she wasn’t going to be satisfied until she stuck around to see your first match. 
“After the selfie you should put the one of you with the girls.”
The picture she’s referring to is one Satoru also took. You remember that day fondly, and even now, the memories feel like a warm embrace. 
about 8 years ago . . .
“Dad, mom, look! Hurry!” Hana, your oldest, shouts. Satoru and you are sitting on a blanket up on the sand dunes with Haruki, who’s trying her best to make a sand castle–to no avail. 
“What is it, hon?” Satoru and you rush over to her, snatching toddler Haruki in the same breath. When you get to the scene, a flood of warmth washes over you upon discovering the ‘threat’. 
“See, it’s baby turtles!” Hana’s squatting in the sand, watching with pure and unfettered fascination as the hatchlings crawl north to the ocean. When she looks up at you, with eyes so bright, and a smile so big that’s missing two of her front teeth, you want to cry. 
“Oh, hon, that’s beautiful,” you gasp, lowering to your haunches so that you can join her. Satoru is about to follow suit before deciding at the last minute to go back to the blanket. When he returns, he snaps a picture unbeknownst to you. Eventually, though, you turn your gaze to him and he captures–what he used to think then–the ‘prettiest’ photo of you.
“You sneaking photos of me?” you squint, pointing at him. He trods closer until he’s standing above you. Then he snaps another. Your head’s tilted up, and you’ve got one eye open, and the other closed because of the sun. He always liked when you squinted like that because it made your nose do this cute little scrunch. 
“Yup, ‘cause you’re my muse.”
You’re pulled out of your daydream when Shoko says your name on the other line.
“You still there?” 
“Yeah, it’s just…”
“Just what?” she queries, waiting for a response. 
“I wanna use it, but my ex-husband took it. It feels weird, you know? And do I want to use a photo of me with the girls?”
“Hon, who cares if Satoru took the photo? It’s still a good photo, and to answer your second question, why wouldn’t you include a picture with your girls?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just afraid no one will be interested. Nothing about a picture of a mom with her two daughters exactly screams ‘fuck me’.”
Shoko lets out a small chuckle but you’re being serious. “Oh, sweetie. You’re so cute. Milfs are in these days, I don’t think I’m the one getting old, I think it’s just you!”
“Ha-ha, laugh at the mom,” you feign annoyance, but give her a laugh in return.
“But seriously, please use that photo. Nobody’s going to skip you just because you’re a mom. A lot of men on there have kids of their own, just gotta tweak your settings,” Shoko reassures you.
By the end of your call, the profile is set. You thank your old friend for the previous heart-to-heart conversation, and the time she spent helping you set up your profile.
“Keep me updated, and don’t talk about mom stuff, okay? Now, I’m not saying you can’t talk about them,” she begins, “but show these guys your personality! I know she’s in the closet somewhere hiding next to our old slutty clubbing clothes.”  
Then, the both of you say your goodbyes and she wishes you a good-luck on your newly established dating journey. As you lay in your bed, you give your profile a final onceover. Not too bad, you think to yourself. 
You ended up using all of the photos she had originally picked out for you. Even the beach photo. To compensate for your old photos, though, Shoko made sure that your prompts were witty and full of personality. 
“I’d match me, I think. No, yeah, these are funny. She did a good job.”
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The following day, you open your phone to fifty notifications from the dating app. A tingle of excitement shoots through your body from the tip of your toes, to the top of your head. It takes all of your might not to squeal in the office. 
“Holy fuck,” you whisper at your desk. The amount of notifications that you initially saw on your homescreen read ‘50’ but when you opened the app, it showed you an overwhelming ‘100’ with a fat plus sign next to it. “Wait, are these all the people who liked me? Shoko’s gonna flip.” 
Getting up from your chair, you make a beeline to the nearest bathroom. Not that you have to use it, but so you can scroll through all the potential prospects without your boss seeing you on your phone. 
Pulling open the door to the bathroom, you close it shut behind you and lock it. A few minutes pass in the time you’re able to get through about half of the people who liked you. You end up skipping a lot of them. They’re either too young, too self-absorbed, creepy, or just downright not your type. 
Some stick out, though. Even trick you into thinking they’re potential matches, but then the other shoe drops–because there’s always another shoe. You’ll scroll through their profiles, and they’ll seemingly have all the perfect traits: intelligent, witty, handsome, tall–and then, boom. You see their ‘don’t want kids’ preference. Every failed match only discourages you more and more. 
It’s weird, because your profile preferences are set to ‘have kids’ and you even have a photo pictured with your girls. So why are men liking your profile despite that? After a few more scrolls, you’re just about ready to head back to your desk but then–you have a hit. 
Your finger hovers over the ‘x’ at the bottom of the screen, then retracts. The guy’s profile at first impression is miles better than the rest, it’s almost too good to be true. His first photo is what piqued your interest. It’s of him posing for a silly photo with his sons, and he’s got his arms draped around their shoulders. 
As you scroll down his profile, you see that there’s even more of him with his children. You take this as a green flag. He wants people to know he has kids, and that he isn’t embarrassed to show them off. You admire him for it. 
The last few remaining photos are an amalgamation of selfies and full-body photos. To the average, well-adjusted adult, looks wouldn’t be a deal breaker. But he definitely wasn’t too bad on the eyes, and you were not complaining about that–especially, after the odd men you had to scroll through to get here. In other words, he was gorgeous and still fit despite being older than you (him, respectively being in his early forties). 
Checking the time on your phone, you realize that you’re pushing your little ‘bathroom break’. Before heading back to your desk, you decide to respond to his first photo.
You: Cute! Could never get my girls to stand so still for a photo like this now haha :)
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Work goes by slower than you’d like, but finishes up just in time when you get a notification from the dating app. You’re a little more excited than you’d care to admit. Tidying up your workspace, you say your goodbyes to your colleagues and head to the elevator. Absent-mindedly, you rush to answer his message but realize it won’t go through because of the elevator’s poor service.
Kazuki: Oh, they’re moody and grown now, don’t be fooled. I can't remember the last time I saw my youngest smile. 
You don’t answer his reply until you get home. Actually, you do just about everything but answer his reply: check on the girls, shower, prepare dinner, pour a glass of wine–you’re nervous, and you don’t know why. But you know you should probably answer soon before he becomes disinterested. So you get comfortable in bed with your glass of wine and pull open his chat.
You: Lol, know that all too well. Kids are little assholes, aren’t they?
The speed in which he reads your text is startling, you don’t even have enough time to close out of the chat. Then, he responds. 
Kazuki: Hell yeah they are! 
Kazuki: Sometimes I want to strangle my youngest. He’s at that age where he’s starting to rebel and question everything. I told him he was supposed to be the ‘easy’ one, but his knucklehead brothers are bad influences on him…Tell me, does it ever get easier?
You: Sounds a lot like my oldest. She used to cling to me like a koala but now she’s the ring leader, and I’m the enemy. My youngest still loves her mama, though (for now lol). 
You: And to answer your question, I’d like to think so? 
You take a second before continuing your response. Shoko told you to keep the mom talk limited, but this seems to be working for you so far, and he’s genuinely interested in what you have to say. So for once, you’re going to ignore her advice. 
You: Kids go through phases. It's our job to reassure them that we’re not going anywhere. No matter how much they push us away or try to, that is :)
Kazuki’s chat bubbles pop up, then disappear. You think he’s deciding on what to say. 
Kazuki: I can tell we’re gonna get along great. It’s nice opening up like this, you know? Talking to another parent. If I'm being honest, dating apps have always intimidated me…
Kazuki: People see kids as ‘baggage’, and it really bothers me. My kids aren’t baggage. They’re the best parts of me. And if someone doesn’t see that, then we have no business getting to know each other. 
Kazuki: Sorry for getting all sappy. Just felt like I needed to say it. 
His apology makes you frown. It feels like a breath of fresh air to hear someone talk about their kids so lovingly, because you feel the exact same way. You’re glad you downloaded the app, and you make a mental note to thank Shoko again later (after you debrief her about this). 
You: Never apologize for speaking about your kids! And if we’re being absolutely transparent, that was my biggest gripe with downloading this app, too. 
You: I’m so glad we matched each other. I’d like to get to know you more. And I’m hoping the feeling’s mutual?
Kazuki: It’s more than mutual. 
Kazuki: Don’t want to get ahead of myself but how do you feel about dinner? There’s a cool high-scale restaurant in the city that I haven’t been to yet. Heard it’s got two Michelin stars despite opening up not too long ago. 
The prospect of going on a sit-down dinner date has your stomach in knots. It’s been a hot minute since the last time you’ve done so, but you’re eager to know the man behind the screen on a more personal level. Plus, being treated to a high-scale restaurant with two Michelin stars doesn’t seem too bad either. You’re never one to turn down free dinner.
You: I’d love to, but how soon we talkin’? Gotta see if it’ll align with my schedule.
Kazuki: How’s this Friday at 8 sound? :)
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The days leading up to Friday breeze by in a blur. For the majority of the week, it feels like you’re walking on cloud nine. Eventually, the conversation transitions from the dating app to exchanging phone numbers, and since then, the two of you have been texting back-and-forth everyday.
You talk about mundane things. Work, shows, movies, books you’ve recently read, what your kids are up to–but the other things? The other messages are flirty, and sexy, and filled with so much tension that it could cut a rope in half. 
In between messages, the two of you have also exchanged a few photos. Nothing risqué or anything of that nature, just random photos of you throughout the day. The last one he sent was a few hours ago of him at work, captioned with: ‘Could this meeting be any longer?’. 
You reply to the message with the ‘ha ha’ reaction, in consideration of not wanting to get him in trouble at work (even if he was the one who initiated the conversation). As the days go by, though, you make it a habit to update Shoko every step of the way. 
Her first reaction to hearing about him was enthusiastic. That is, until you showed her screenshots from his profile. You vaguely remember her saying something that was meant as a compliment, but came out more like an insult. 
“‘Oh, he’s a dad!” was her initial response, “oh, he’s a dad…and he really loves his kids. You’re meant for each other.’” 
When you tried to ask her what she meant by that, she changed the subject. Every update since then has earned slightly more positive reactions, though.
Today, you ask her for more advice. Only this time, you’re on video call. 
“Shokoooo,” you drawl, “our date is tomorrow! You have to help me find something to wear.” The panic in your voice is so palpable, she can almost feel your shaky hands through the screen. Flipping the camera, you hurriedly pan your phone around the closet. 
“Breathe, girl, breathe,” she demonstrates first, before telling you to repeat the same motions. “Take me to that section over there–no, not that one–wait, yep, there.” You amble over to the area she’s directing you to through the phone.
“What’s that black little number right there?” She points. You prop the phone up on a shelf and scour through the section, tugging out a dress you haven’t seen in ages (which has you questioning how she even spotted it because it was pretty far back into the closet). Walking back into frame, you hold the fabric up to your body. 
Shoko nods in approval, “That’s the one, babe. Try it on!” 
It’d been about a decade since the last time you wore this dress. It’d also been about a decade since you were ever this small. Looking in the mirror, you run your hands over every surface inch, every crevice of the dress, in a newfound sense of appreciation for the adult weight you’ve gained since becoming a mother. 
The dress was always stunning but it hugged everything perfectly even more so now. When you walk back into frame, your friend gives you a look of pure adoration. She’s so enthralled that she snaps a few screenshots for keepsaking. 
“Thank god it’s Satoru’s turn to get the kids tonight,” she says, “‘cause you’re definitely getting some tonight.” 
You roll your eyes, reminding her she’s on speaker phone. “Oh, please. It’s just dinner!”
“Not in that dress,” she retorts, wagging her finger in the camera. While the two of you continue to chat about the details of tonight, a knock on your bedroom door draws your attention. 
“Mom, can I come in?” the voice sounds. It’s Haruki. 
“Come in, hon!” 
After you give the ok, you turn to Shoko and mouth to her to behave. Haruki turns the knob and enters, closing the door behind her. She sees you standing in front of the mirror before you see her, and silently utters a ‘wow’. You’re just about done putting your earrings in when you join her in the other room. 
“What do you think, bun? Does your mom look hot?” you spin around, smoothing your hands down the length of the dress. You wait in anticipation for her approval, because if anyone could tell it like it is, it was always going to be a kid. Your Haruki was no exception. 
“You look really pretty, Mom. I’m glad you’re going out tonight, I mean, you don’t really have friends so I think this will be good for you,” she elaborates, though you wish she would’ve stopped at the compliment. 
Still, it puts a smile on your face to hear her verbalize that she’s okay with you doing something for yourself. You never quite discussed the prospect of getting back out there with your kids–and not even intentionally. It just never felt like the right time. 
“You could’ve stopped at the compliment, punk!” you grab her, then wrap her in your arms, “but thank you. Love you, bun.”
“Love you more, mama.” Neither of you make the effort to pull away. Instead, you both stand there. Hugging, breathing, embracing each other’s warmth. You don’t always get hugs this good, so when you do, you savor it. Drag it out until your arms and legs get all tingly. 
Or until someone interrupts. Another knock on the door. This time it’s Hana. 
“Ew, what’s going on?” Hana feigns a look of disgust. You know she’s just jealous; she’ll never admit it, though. Which is why sometimes you have to force her to participate. 
“Get over here,” you scrunch your nose, forcefully pulling her into your tight embrace. She tries to protest but eventually accepts defeat. You squeeze them both until they whine that they can’t breathe anymore. Then you squeeze them some more because this one’s for you. 
“My special girls,” you breathe in, taking in all of their love. Soaking it all up so that tonight you have the courage to try again. To allow yourself a love of your own. When you let go, there’s a sniffle from the closet. It totally dawned on you that Shoko was still on the phone. 
“They’re so big now, they don’t even know their auntie,” she fakes a sob, blowing her nose into a tissue. 
“Mom, who’s on the phone?” Haruki queries with a confused expression etched onto her face. It suddenly dawns on you again that although you’ve been communicating with Shoko again, you haven’t exactly told them. 
“Hey, you came in here to tell me something right, Han?” Your attempt to change the subject is poorly done, which doesn’t come as a surprise to you considering deflection has never quite been an ability you excelled at. Nonetheless, the look of suspicion they give you after is fleeting before they explain to you in unison that their father is here. 
“Your father’s been waiting down there this whole time and nobody cared to tell me?” you whisper-yell, left eye twitching to emphasize your ill-preparedness. The girls only shrug their shoulders in response, like this was something you were just supposed to know. 
“Well, you did force us into a hug and make us do all that Kumbaya stuff,” Hana mumbles under her breath.
“Okay, enough about all that. Are you guys all packed? Where are your bags? I don’t want your dad seeing–” 
“You don’t want dad to see your date, right?” Hana raises a brow, all knowing. Sometimes she was a little too smart for her own good. You want to blame that on the private schools Satoru had them enrolled in, but really you just know she’s just a menace in her own right. She learned that from him. 
“I agree with the kid,” a voice chimes in. You rush to the closet and grab your phone from the shelf. There’s a huge, shit-eating grin on Shoko’s face. Somehow she’s responsible for this. You don’t know how yet, nor do you have proof, but you know it. 
“Okay, thank you, love you, bye!” Before you can hang up, Shoko blurts something. 
“Tell him I said hi,” she begins, “–andnottogetahardonwhenheseesyou!”
You hang up the call and roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself because of her idiocy. When you enter the corridor, you hear a faint sound of hushed voices from downstairs. It’s only when you round the bannister at the top, when those voices become discernible and louder. 
You stop at the top, and when your eyes meet his, it feels like all the air in your lungs have expelled. Suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of what you’re wearing, and the fabric, and the way it clings to your body. Neither he, nor you, look away–you should, you want to, but you don’t. 
And in the time the two of you gaze upon the other, time stops for a modicum of a second. In this second, you and him are the last two souls in the world. At least, that’s how it feels anyway before he breaks eye contact. 
You shift your gaze shortly after, and put on a trained smile. Those eyes of his were always so intense. You guess you forgot over the years how easy it was to lose yourself in the crystalline pools of them. Gathering your wits, you resume your movements and saunter down the imperial staircase. 
“Hey, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. Sort of lost track of time, but I think the girls are all packed,” you say, your voice coming to a decrescendo upon noticing the way his eyes trail over your frame. They’re unreadable, though. Indifferent, and honestly, you’re not sure how to feel. So, you begin fidgeting uncomfortably with the rings around your finger. 
Then, he smiles. It’s eerie and fake. “Not a problem, I haven’t been here too long. But, uh,” he begins ambling around the place, touching random objects around the living room, “Didn’t know you had plans. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with your colleagues?” 
You furrow your brows, confused with his sudden interests in your plans. It wasn’t really like him to prod. “No, actually,” you rock back-and-forth on the balls of your heels, “i’m…i’m going on a date,” you finish with a pursed smile. He only nods his head in response, still walking around the place touching stuff, messing with the picture frames on the mantle. They’re all crooked now. 
“How come this is the only picture you have up of me,” he asks suddenly. You know, that he knows, the answer to that. And he knows, that you know, you’ll indulge in his games anyway. 
“The girls wanted them in their rooms. Why do you ask? You want me to go grab them and put ‘em all up around the house?” Again, he doesn’t say anything. Just gives you a final once over before heading back to the foyer to ask if the girls are all set to go. 
“Yeah, but I can’t find my tablet, dad. Can I go look for it?” Haruki speaks up. “I thought I packed it.”
Satoru looks at the time on his watch, pinches the crease in between his brows. “Sure, kiddo. Can we make it quick, please?” He throws his hand in the air for emphasis, then points to his watch. Haruki nods, then runs up the stairs. 
“Actually, you go on up too and help your sister. You guys are holding up dad,” you turn to Hana and gesture for her to head up with your head. She rolls her eyes, yelling up the stairs for her younger sister to ‘freaking hurry up’. 
You and Satoru both turn to each other with wide eyes, laughing at the nerve of those children. 
“They get that attitude from you, you know,” you point to him, driving your index finger into his bicep. 
“You sure? Their mom’s got a pretty bad mouth on her, too. Or, have you forgotten?” He teases, bending his knees slightly to level his eyes with yours, intruding into your space. The smirk he dons is cheeky, too friendly–too inviting. You want to smack it off of him. 
“Oh, shut u–” the sound of your phone chiming interrupts your banter. It’s a message from Kazuki, and you open it while Satoru stands over you. Probably close enough to read the message on his own if he wanted. 
Kazuki: Hey, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can go through with tonight. 
When you read the message, your heart drops into your stomach. There goes the other shoe, you think, fully embracing your pessimism. Who were you kidding, really? To think that tonight you’d go out and have a good time. Do something for yourself. It was stupidity. 
Chat bubbles pop up on the screen. He has more to say. 
He has more to say, and you’re fighting the urge to cry–to not shake out of sheer frustration while you’re still standing in front of Satoru. Because nothing would be worse than him seeing you can’t even land a date. 
Kazuki: I recently just went through a divorce, and I know that I should have informed you about this before continuing our conversations…Especially since you’ve been so transparent with me about your own divorce and strife.
Kazuki: But if I’m being completely honest, I was scared. I genuinely wanted to see this through, at first. I wanted to forget about my ex-wife for just one night. But I realized I’ve been asking the impossible of myself…I’m still in love with her, and it’s because I’m in love with her that I won’t allow myself to lead you on any further. 
Kazuki: I think we would’ve had a good time tonight. It's unfortunate we had to meet under such circumstances because you’re a really lovely woman, and I’m sorry an asshole is standing you up right now. 
Kazuki: Take care. I know there’s a guy out there just waiting for his shot. 
Satoru takes notice of the way your face drops as you read over the messages. Part of him wants to overstep his boundaries and take a peek at the screen. But he doesn’t. He gives you your space and takes a seat on the couch, waits for you to say something first. 
In the meantime, he studies your face. Watches intently as your eyes become glossy the more you scan the messages, watches as your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hold back from crying. He thinks he knows what just happened. 
Taking a deep breath, you lock your phone and put on another trained smile, “Well, looks like I’m staying in tonight.” Satoru dislikes when you do that. When you put on a fake smile and overcompensate to make others around you feel better, even when it’s so very obvious you aren’t. He wishes that sometimes you would just be selfish–act out. 
And then you continue the façade. It makes his skin itch. 
“I was too tired anyway, guess I can just catch up o–”
“Will you stop,” he spits, rising from his seat on the couch to stand. It comes out harsher than he intended, but he doesn’t regret it. You look at him like he’s got two heads as he walks over to the mantle and leans against it. His back is turned towards you, and the palms of his hands hold the crest of it. He uses it as leverage to rock on the heels of his feet. You can tell there’s something he wants to say because of the way his jaw ticks. 
Satoru is never one to bite his tongue, so you’re not exactly sure why he’s choosing to be so restrained. If he wasn’t going to spit it out, you were going to poke. “What’s your problem?” 
He chuckles at this, rubs his chin then pushes off the mantle to stand in front of you, gets all in your space again. The movement almost sends you back but you hold your ground, tilt your chin up at him and repeat the question. Slowly, this time with more venom. 
“My problem? What’s your problem?” He breathes through his nose, his eyes flickering back-and-forth between your own. “Why do you always pretend like you’re not lonely? It’s okay if you were looking forward to having fun tonight. It’s okay to be upset and be mad at the asshole who stood you up!”
With every verbal prod at you, the gap between you decreases. His feet inch closer and closer to your own and force you to retreat farther until your back hits the wall. The coldness of it causes your breath to hitch, and you try to stay calm as Satoru encroaches more into your personal space. Being on the receiving end of his passion was always suffocating, you feel exposed under the intensity of his gaze–even more so as he continues to tear into you. 
“Why do you even care?!” you cut him off, eyes wide and veins pumping full of adrenaline. “It’s not your place to be so invested in my life anymore! We’re not together, you don’t have to get so hot and bothered about things going shitty for me. I’m a big girl, and I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.” 
By the time you finish, you’re a heaving, shaking mess. He takes this as a sign to withdraw from your space, and goes to sit back down on the couch. When you finally settle your nerves, you join him, leaving a foot of space in between you. There’s an awkward silence, one that wouldn’t have even happened if he just respected your boundaries in the first place. Now he feels like the asshole instead of the actual asshole who dumped you. Taking a hesitant breath, he decides to speak up. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…It wasn’t my intention to come off so strong like that,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t always have to pretend to be fine. It’s not fair, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.” His eyes wander over to you reluctantly, like he’s scared that if he looks too long you’ll disengage from the conversation. 
“It’s okay,” your voice is small, just above a whisper. You want to face him, but you know that if you do, you'll break into a million pieces. So you keep your gaze downward, busy yourself with the stray pieces of thread on the bottom of your dress. “You’re right, you know. I think I just…I think I just tell myself to expect disappointment so that when something bad happens, I’ll know it’s not because I got my hopes up.” 
Satoru turns to you, and you can see him frown through your peripheral. Still, you don’t face him because you’re not done talking. But you thank him silently for listening without interrupting. 
“Even though you’re right, I don’t appreciate the way you came on so strongly. We’re not married anymore, we’re not a couple–we’re co-parents. So if there’s something I want you to know about that’s outside of the scope of our kids, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, leave it alone.”
Satoru’s face softens. For once you’re being selfish, putting your foot down. This is the side of you he likes. “Okay. I respect that,” he says, “But can I ask you something?” The smile on his face is mirthful, like he’s got something else up his sleeves this evening. Skeptical, you finally face him with a raised brow. 
“What?”
“Let me take you to dinner.” 
You laugh in his face, even go as far as smacking his arm because you want him to know you found the joke really funny. He doesn’t budge, and that’s when you realize he’s being serious. 
“Wait, what?” 
“Let’s go to dinner,” he stands up, crossing his arms across his chest. You tilt your head in disbelief. You’re just waiting for someone to tell you you’re on that old reality show punk’d. 
“Funny, I just poured my heart out to you and now you’re making fun of me,” you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 
“I’m being serious,” he reassures, “you’re already dressed up. It’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” His eyes are twinkling with hope, and once again, you find yourself falling victim to their persuasiveness. 
Being under Gojo Satoru’s gaze was suffocating. 
Giving in, you ask, “So what are you gonna do? Drive all the way home to get dressed?” 
The question is genuine, but the bastard just grins. “I’m a little hurt,” he throws a hand over his heart, “don’t you know me by now? I’m a businessman. I keep pressed blazers and slacks on me at all times.”
He swings his keys around his index finger, hoping that the promise of a spare change of clothes being in his car is enough to convince you to say yes. 
“I don’t know…” you trail. 
“C’mon, let me take you out. I promise you won’t regret it.”
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Somehow he was able to persuade you into going out. After he changed into his spare clothes, you ended up telling your girls that there was gonna be a change of plans, and that they’d go home with their dad tomorrow. 
Of course, before leaving, you made sure to leave some money on the table for pizza, and you also made sure to drill into their heads not to open the door for anyone except the delivery guy. You knew they knew the drill already, but it didn’t feel right to leave without saying it anyway. 
“Be good, listen to your sister, she’s in charge,” you pinch Haruki’s cheek. Hana smirks, nodding her head in agreement with you. 
“I will mom, I know,” she huffs, crossing her arms.
“And you,” your finger wags at Hana, her smirk drops. “Don’t provoke your sister, be nice. Act like you love each other, please.” 
“Fine, whatever. I guess,” she grabs the knob to the door, ready to kick the both of you out already. “So does this mean the two of you are back together, or?” 
Satoru and you turn to each other before answering in unison, “No.” 
“Okay, cool. Well, have fun,” she practically closes the door on the two of you, locking it after. Satoru is just as dumbfounded as you are, but then you break into a fit of laughter. 
“Those kids, man.”
“Your kids!” you correct, pushing him playfully as the both of you walk down the pebbled pathway. He finds his equilibrium in time to unlock the car and open your side of the door. You pause before ducking inside.
“Oh, how gentlemanly of you,” you jest, “And they say chivalry is dead.”
“How could it be when I’m alive?” He says matter-of-factly, closing your side of the door. He taps the top of the car before sliding across the hood to the other side. Nice to see some things never changed. 
When he gets inside and turns on the car, he puts his hand on the back of your seat to back out. The proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to physically refrain from letting your eyes linger on his jaw, and his arms, and the face he makes when he’s trying to concentrate. 
You try to dispel these less-than-friendly thoughts by looking somewhere, anywhere else but him. But you can’t, and it’s irritating. 
This is the second time tonight you’ve been this close, and it’s only this time that you realize something about him is…different. Earlier, he didn’t really smell like anything, but you quickly notice his smell has changed. 
There’s a sort of piney scent coming from him. It’s not strong or obnoxious enough to blind your nostrils, but it’s enough for you to just barely pick up on it. You almost think it was premeditated, that he took the liberty of spritzing some on before walking you to the car. Before you separated, he’d made it a habit to wear variations of woody scents for you. If you can recall correctly, a passing comment you made about the cologne he was wearing that day is what sparked the habit. 
Surely, this couldn’t be coincidental? 
“You smell nice,” you blurt, filling in the silence. 
Satoru glances at you, “Thank you.” You hate that from the corner of your eye, you can see his stupid little smirk growing bigger by the minute. He already had a big ego, it didn’t need to be stroked any more. 
“Don’t let it go to your head, though. You usually smell pretty rank.”
“Ohhh, is that so? Guess I gotta start wearing this more often then, huh?”
“Sure, do what you want,” you say, trying to remain indifferent even though you’re failing terribly to hide your smile. When the car approaches a red light, you finally decide to ask the big question. “So where are you taking me?” 
“You’ll see,” he glances over, “Just know I’m good friends with the owner, so last minute reservations weren't a problem.” 
The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the low hum of the music playing on the radio. When you arrive at the location, Satoru makes sure to walk all the way around to your side of the door again and open it. Immediately after, the two of you are greeted by a young male. He’s wearing a white button down, black slacks, and a black vest with a red tie. Judging by his appearance, you assume he’s a valet driver. 
Satoru drops his keys in the driver’s hands, and escorts you towards the entrance. The boy bows and goes to park the car. Looking around, you start to wonder where exactly this place is supposed to be. The area is dark and secluded, and from where you stand outside, it doesn’t sound like there’s supposed to be a restaurant here. You don’t hear any voices, you don’t even see any security or other passerbyers. 
Still, you follow behind him like a duckling, only coming to a halt when he leads you to a door taller than the both of you. He gestures for you to back up, then raises his knuckles to blow a strong, single knock. You’re taken by surprise when a set of angry eyes appear behind a slot in the door. 
The pair of eyes first scan over you, then Satoru. A gruff voice is second to accompany them, “Where can I get a good drink?” 
“I heard the bar down the street is nice,” Satoru answers. The hatch to the door closes, then swings open the door, and the man behind it moves aside to welcome you in.
“Follow me, please.” Once he closes the door, he begins guiding you down the dimly lit hallway. After making what seems like your hundredth turn, you eventually reach a staircase. The man gestures for you to go on ahead, and you think this is him implying where the three of you will depart.
“Thank you,” you say softly, disappearing down the stairs. Satoru isn’t too far behind, keeping a pace between you. As you near the end of the long, narrow hallway, a stream of white light brightens up your whole path. It leads you down to another door like a beacon of light, and when you reach it, you can hear voices, live music, and dishes clanking on the other side. It’s bustling with life. A huge, joyous smile plasters across your face. It’s almost child-like in appearance, like you haven’t seen something this cool in a long time. 
Satoru stands beside you and winks. “What d’ya think? Any idea yet where we are?” 
“I think this is fucking cool, and hm,” you take a second to mull it over, “are we at a speakeasy?” 
“Smart girl. Now come on.” Stepping back, you allow him to pull open the door, and when he does, there isn’t a word to describe the atmosphere of the place you step into. All you can do is stand there in astonishment. Before long, a man walks up to you. 
“Welcome, what is the name you reserved under?” 
“Gojo.”
Nodding, the host instructs you to follow after him. He leads you to a private seating area, somewhere far in the back that’s secluded from the other patrons. The space is much bigger, and much more extravagant. You know you’re only sitting way back here because Satoru is who he is. And in all the years you’ve known him, his connections were just another party trick in his arsenal. 
The hostess seats you, then Satoru, and tells you that a waiter will be with you shortly. 
“This is nice, really nice, but is it–”
“Legal?” he finishes your sentence, “don’t worry. It’s a modern speakeasy-style restaurant. There’s nothing illegal going on here, promise.” 
While you wait for your designated waiter, your focus shifts from the man in front of you to the man singing on the stage. Up until now, his voice was white noise in the background, but then he started singing a tune scarily reminiscent of your past–and your breath catches in your throat. 
If I ever leave you, baby
You can say I told you so
And if I ever hurt you
You know, I hurt myself…
Turning your gaze back to Satoru, you squint your eyes mirthfully in disbelief. You wonder if this is just a funny coincidence, if this is the universe playing her tricks, but you know deep down, that coincidences and Gojo Satoru don’t belong in the same sentence. 
You open your mouth to speak, but quickly close it when you see the waiter approaching from the corner of your eye. He greets the both of you with a polite smile, then sets down two glasses of water. 
“Good evening, I’ll be your waiter for the night,” he says, placing a menu in front of you, “Can I get you fine folks started off with a bottle of wine?” 
Satoru nods, tells him to bring the best bottle of red they have and then gestures for him to come closer so that he can whisper something in his ear. All the while, you sit back in your seat observing, clicking your nails on the table until the server pulls back and bows. 
When he departs, you immediately lean in over the table, and ask, “Just how much time did you have to plan all of this?” 
Satoru feigns aloofness, taking a sip of his water, “What do you mean?” 
You roll your eyes, gesturing at the stage with your eyes. Then, as if suddenly coming to a realization, he goes, “Oh, that? Yeah, I had nothing to do with that. But isn’t it funny they’re playing our old song?” 
Now he’s smirking, with his elbow leaning back on the chair, and a gaze so piercing, you’re certain you’ll crumble into nothing unless you look away. So you do, avert your gaze back to the stage and sway calmly. 
Is that any way for a man to carry on
Do you think I want my loved one gone
Said I love you
More than you’ll ever know
More than you’ll ever know
“So funny,” you counter. 
Eventually, the server comes back with a bottle. “1982 Chateau Latife Rothschild,” he holds it out to present, “Is this alright?” 
Despite the years spent with Satoru, and the many elitist events you often attended with him, your knowledge on wine had never surpassed anything but surface level. You knew the difference between good wine and cheap wine was the taste, but your taste buds had grown accustomed to store-bought, so if anything, store-bought tasted like heaven to you. Anyway, though, you nod your head and urge him to pour a glass. 
“Thank you,” you smile, before gently swirling the glass and bringing it up to your nose to smell (something you only know to do after being the odd man out at so many company banquets). Satoru waits for you to sip your glass before he sips his. The way you melt into your seat is a silent assurance that you’re pleased. 
“This is great, you’re amazing,” you tell the server, who seems pleased by your compliment. 
“Glad to be of service, miss. Are you ready to order?” 
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Dinner goes by smoothly. In fact, it goes by so smoothly, you and Satoru finish the entire bottle of wine. Now you sit at the table, bellies full, faces flushed and sore from laughing, and now you find yourself telling him about the grocery store incident. If you had half a mind (a sober one), you’d shut up right this second to save yourself from the embarrassment. But you don’t. And Satoru’s very persuasive when you’re tipsy. 
“Keep going,” he leans in, hand nestled under his chin. He’s completely invested in the story. Actually, as soon as he heard the words ‘store’ and ‘cute guy’, he just had to know more. And you begging him to change the subject didn’t help, not when the sadist in him loved to see you so embarrassed. 
“Fine,” you hiccup, “It was so - so bad, Toru.” He doesn’t miss the way you slip and call him by the nickname you’d always reserved for him. It makes his heart race, and god, does he miss the way it sounds spilling from your lips. But he ignores the feeling, and refocuses on your story instead. Which, by the way, was proving to be a task in itself because his eyes couldn’t stop drifting back down to your lips. So soft, so–
“And then she said ‘we don’t believe in rings,’” you whisper, fist coming down on the table. The sound it makes nearly sobers you up, and you realize just how loud you’re being despite your table being secluded from others. Giggling like a kid, you continue, “I mean, how fucking insane is that?!” 
“Something as bizarre as that could only ever happen to you,” he replies, laughing along with you, “those people were crazy.” 
“The craziest,” you agree, throwing your head back in another fit of laughter. Gradually, the two of you begin to settle down, and once again, you find your attention being drawn back to the man on the stage. Only this time, he’s making an announcement.
“Good evening ladies and gentleman. Tonight I’ve got a special request,” he says, looking out into the audience. Looking at you. “This one’s for a very special lady who, from what I’ve been told, is a great mother that needs to start doing things for herself.” 
The singer steps out of the spotlight and hands the note to a server. Your server. Then he begins to sing, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It was your wedding song. 
[...] I don’t even know how to love you
Just the way you want me to
But I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
Yes, I’m ready (ready) to learn (to learn)
“Now this one? This one was me,” Satoru leans forward, and you swiftly turn your head to face him. He smiles as he watches your face go through ten different emotions before ultimately softening. It warms your heart to see how incredibly planned this evening was, despite the amount of time he was given to work with. Even so, it kind of scares you–because then that meant this was a grand gesture–that this was his way of saying something. And you weren’t too sure if you wanted to hear it. Your gaze drops to your lap, and Satoru frowns. 
To fall in love 
To fall in love
To fall in love with you…
“Look at me,” he says softly, but you don’t. “Hey, look at me.” He reaches over the table to take your chin in between his fingers. The touch alone feels electric. Sends liquid hot lightning down the column of your spine. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze, and like always, it’s suffocating. They’re so wide with hope, and so, so gentle in the way they hold you. The longer you gaze upon them, the more you convince yourself it’ll be okay if you surrender to them. 
“It’s been years since we’ve divorced,” his voice is shaky, almost strained, like he’s actively thinking how to choose his words carefully, “and when we sat down that night, I thought it was what I wanted, too, you know? And for a while, it was,” he reaches a hand across the table to rest atop your own, “but you gotta know…you gotta know–you’re it for me. There’s no one else on this Earth that I want to start over with. You’ve always been the beginning and end of my story, and I’ll be damned if I let another man start one with you.”
Your heart is beating faster than you can even process what he’s saying. The only thing you’re focused on is not passing out in the middle of this damn restaurant. But then he’s squeezing your hand, and your focus is drawn back to those piercing, pale blues that even put crystals to shame. 
“So what do you say?” he says, so softly, so tender. “Can we try again?”
Waiting for your reply, he squeezes your hand again. It’s like your soul is wandering the line between death and the living, and his touch is the tether that brings you back. In the background, the tune of the song sung at your wedding gives you a push of courage. 
I don’t even know how to kiss your lips (kiss your lips)
At a moment like this
But I’m going to learn how to do 
All the things you want me to
Yes, I’m ready
(Are you ready?) Yes, I’m ready
To fall in love
To fall in love
To fall in love right now
“Yes.”
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The walk back to the car is hurried. Aided by both, years and years of built up tension, and the liquid courage currently bubbling in your systems. 
The race back to his apartment is even faster. You thank the gods silently that it’s within close proximity to where you just were. 
Once you get there, make your way past the doorman and concierge (who both give the two of you a knowing look), go up the elevator, and finally get into his loft–it’s over. Years of restraint, years of pretending, wanting–yearning, come crashing down. 
There’s barely any time to close the door before he’s pushing you against it. His lips trail down the column of your neck, then come up to kiss your jaw, until eventually, they find your lips. And when they do, it’s instantaneous–that familiar feeling, the feeling that feels almost like falling. 
Once again, for what felt like centuries, you feel again the rush of helplessness. The push and pull of the tide. It brings you down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean floor, and it’s unmerciful. 
Kissing Satoru is like being shocked with ten thousand volts of energy. Like all this time you’ve spent not kissing him, has been costing you your life, and he’s the only one who can deliver you salvation. It’s all teeth and tongue for a minute. Messy, and sticky, and nasty. A true testament to the desperation brewing in the pits of both your stomachs. 
The sensation of it all has your knees going slack, and that’s when he says–
“Jump.” 
Obeying, you do just that. Jump right into his arms, and wrap your legs around his torso like you’ve done so many times before. The way you feel now is the way you used to feel before then, too. Like you were made to fit like this. To be held in his arms like you were molded from the same clay. 
Carefully, he adjusts his grip on your body. Keeps his palms planted on the bottoms of your ass, and begins the trek to his room. He struggles a bit getting there because you haven’t stopped kissing since entering the apartment, but he figures it out after a stumble or two (which resulted in a bitten lip and you apologizing profusely through giggles). 
“The turbulence up here is crazy, don’t blame me, blame the pilot,” you jest, kissing down his neck to make up for it. 
“I’ll make sure to let him know,” he jokes back. As soon as he gets to the bed, he sets you down at the edge of the bed. You try to bring him down to your height but he stops you, wags his finger in your face playfully before using it to push you back into the bed. His fingers start to play with the fabric of your dress, and then his face takes on an indifferent expression. The same one from earlier that night when he first saw you walking down the stairs. 
“Can’t believe you were gonna wear this for him…” he trails, lifting the fabric up slowly, eyeing you while doing so, “as if this dress doesn’t mean something.” 
Of course, when Shoko chose it, its significance did make you falter–but in your defense, not once did you ever anticipate for him to see you in it. And you especially didn’t expect for him to remember it, the last time you wore it was almost a decade ago. 
“I didn’t…” you start, a smile creeping on your lips, “think you remembered?”
“‘Course I did, how could I not?” He says more sharply than intended, taking offense. He takes offense because he spent the better half of the night showing you he remembered. The little things and everything else in between. Couldn’t you see that?
“It was our 4th anniversary. Bought you this dress and fucked you in it that same night. Funny how the second time I’m seeing you in this dress, the circumstances are the same except only this time we’re divorced,” he says, crawling over your body. “Guess I gotta show you just how much I remember.” 
With that, he slips a hand under your dress, pulls your panties to the side and runs a finger down your slit. Oh-so-willingly, do you spread your legs for him. It’s almost subconscious, the way your body responds to him. And he revels in it. Lets his fingers work you, feel you, bring you to ecstasy. Then he heightens your pleasure tenfold when he kisses his way down your body, and takes a seat before you on his knees. 
Unceremoniously, he pulls your body to the edge of the bed. Takes his time slipping your panties down the length of your legs, then kisses the insides of your thighs, before finally stopping at your mound. 
Slowly, he lowers himself to your cunt, kisses your clit softly. Once, twice, three times. The pace in which he’s moving is killing you, to say the least. But you know he’s savoring the moment, making up for all the years he spent not kneeling like this between your legs. So you let him; let him caress you all over before he comes seeking the honey-sweet salvation dripping from your core. 
The second his tongue makes contact with your heat, you find yourself clamping a heavy hand over your mouth. “Fuck, Toruuuu,” you drawl, back arching off the bed. Pleased with his abilities, he smiles smugly, using this as an opportunity to push himself even deeper. Up and down, he licks at your slit, uses his fingers in tandem with his tongue to prod at that spongy spot he knows you love. 
“Tastes,” a harsh suck, “so good,” another, “better than I remember.” 
You know he’s talking, but his words fall on deaf ears. You’re so caught up in your own high, you don’t even take notice of the obscene sloshing sounds coming from your pussy, or the moans you’re making. All you can do is lay there and take it as he takes, and takes, and takes from you. 
Soon, you find your orgasm cutting through you like a knife, and you come with a strangled cry that has you biting back tears. Satoru talks you through the whole thing. He lays his head down on your thigh and continues working you with his fingers until you start to shake from the overstimulation. 
For a few, you lay and stare at the ceiling. You think you can see the Milky Way–and all the constellations that make it up. It feels like your soul is floating beyond your physical body, and you don’t come back down to Earth until a sharp, stinging sensation brings you back. Did he just?
“Did you just bite me?” you lift your head, peering down to see the evidence. In all its glory, there it was; a red ring smack-dab in the inside of your thigh with teeth imprints. Looking at Satoru, he grins. 
“Had to get you back from earlier,” he says, sitting back on his knees. You attempt to kick him with your foot, but he grabs hold of it. Pretending to be wounded, he gasps, “Is this how you treat the man who just gave you a soul-shattering orgasm?” 
You roll your eyes, but to your dismay, it only encourages him to continue. 
“Fuck, Toru,” he mimics, “oh my god, Toru. You fuck me so goo–”
“Alright, enough!” you manage to kick him this time, laughing as you bring up your hands to cover your face. “Keep carrying on like that and I won’t let you fuck me…” You’re serious in your bite, but he’s smirking. Like he knows you’re full of bullshit. 
“Yeah right. You and I both know I make you feel too good.” 
Feeling bested, you scoff, though, there’s no real weight behind it. While he begins to remove his shirt, you sit up and replace his hands. He relinquishes control and allows you to unbutton it until the item falls haphazardly to the floor. 
He’s so beautiful, you think. Still so chiseled, so perfect after all these years since you’ve last seen him like this. At his most vulnerable. The only difference now is that there are more freckles littered across his skin. Back then, he’d say they were signs of aging, and he’d hate them. 
But he’s older now. More mature. So much so that he even winks at you when you trace your fingertips over them.
“They suit you,” you whisper. 
“Yeah?”
You nod your head, “mhm.” 
Continuing your ministrations, you begin removing his belt. He holds your gaze the entire time it takes for you to unzip his pants and pull them down–and he doesn’t once shy away when you discover the wet spot on the front of his briefs. Slowly, delicately, you remove the soiled item and let it fall down to the floor with the rest of his clothes. 
Still looking at him, you take hold of his length and fist him once, twice, experimentally. A dribble of pre oozes from his slit and you bring it to your mouth. All the air in his lungs expel into the air when you lick it off with your tongue, and god, he thinks he could come from that alone. 
God, he’s missed you. Missed your touch, your lips–the way you hold him with your eyes like he’s something worth being gentle with. Nothing could ever compare to you, not even his own hand. 
As soon as you’re about to take him in your mouth, he stops you. Pushes you back down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. “No more playing, I’m tired of playing,” he breathes, lowering himself down until half of his weight is on top of you. 
Guiding his cock to your entrance, he pushes past your folds with little resistance. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him in has his arms wobbling like jelly, but he musters enough strength somehow to stay up. You, on the other hand, are close to tears. 
The more he eases himself in, the more you feel like you’re being stretched open (despite him previously prepping you). If you were being truthful, this wasn’t a complete shock to you. You’ve known that he’s always been big, but something about tonight feels different. Or maybe it’s just been too long since you’ve had something more than just your own fingers. 
Even so, you try your best to ignore the burn of the stretch. You throw your arms around his neck and invite him deeper into you, hooking your legs around him so tightly that it renders his limbs useless. For a minute, all you can feel is the weight of him inside of you, and his chest against yours as they rise and fall asynchronously. 
“Toru,” your voice is just barely above a whisper, but enough to make the hairs on the nape of his neck stand. “Make love to me.” 
Heeding your request, he begins moving. Painfully slow, he unsheathes himself from you until only the head of his cock is inside, then pushes himself all the way back in with force. Again, and again, he repeats this motion. Pulls out, pushes in. Pulls out, pushes in, until he decides to increase his pace and set a steady rhythm. 
Every thrust into you is meticulously calculated. Sharp, and forceful, and not once does he disrupt the rhythm. He listens carefully to the sounds you make. Even listens to the way your breath hitches when he hits a spot right. Everything he’s doing is perfect–and it’s to no surprise. Deep down, you know that Satoru knows your body like the back of his hand. He’d know it if you were all old and wrinkly. He’d know it if his soul reincarnated. Hell, he’d know it blind. 
“Missed this,” he grunts, burying his head into the interstice of your neck, “missed you,” a kiss to your neck, “missed us.” 
The veracity of his words render you speechless. He’s already professed his feelings for you tonight, but it feels even more real now that you’re beneath him. To be loved by Gojo Satoru was a feeling many couldn’t say they had the consolation of knowing. Only a few in his circle could hold that position–but only one person in this world could truly ever know his love to its fullest extent. You. 
Satoru continues his mindless rambling, “I love you,” a thrust, “it’s always been you,” another, “was always going to be you.” Leaning back on his heels, he pushes your dress all the way up to reveal your breasts. Now it’s him who sits back and admires this time. As if he were reacquainting himself, he traces the planes and pastures of your chest with an eager hand. He runs it up and over each mound, squeezing and kneading the flesh experimentally. 
Then, he dips down and kisses the space between them. Sucks and licks until the skin bruises, and he has evidence to prove tonight actually happened. Eventually, he withdraws from your chest and returns his focus on easing his cock in and out of your cunt. 
“So beautiful,” he says, but it’s more to himself than anything. You’re so lost in your own pleasure, he doesn’t even think you can hear him. “Want you to cum on my cock, know you can do it, baby. Know you can,” he grunts, taking your hand and intertwining it with his own. Letting his head fall into your neck, he begins to quicken his pace. Fucks into you with everything he’s got and willing to give. 
“Toru,” you finally manage to say, “‘m so close, keep going. Do it - do it inside.” 
Do it inside. Do it inside. Do it inside. The thought is tempting, too tempting. It makes his dick twitch inside of you, and he swears if you say it again, he’ll actually do it. But he knows better than to listen to anything you say out of delirium. 
“Trust me, sweet girl,” he cradles your face, to which you lean into, “I want to - I want to so fucking badly. But we both know you’d regret it later.” 
Whining, your lips form into a pout, and the sight is so cute, he can’t help but to kiss it off of you. Compared to your kiss earlier, this one is much sweeter. Slower. More relaxed. He kisses you with the intent of making you dizzier than you already are, and it’s scary. Even so, you don’t pull away. You allow him to drink you up. Like your lips are the only source of water around, and he’s been quenched for days. 
Finally, with a few more thrusts, you reach your climax. The pressure building in the pit of your belly pops like a balloon, and everything goes white. “Toru!” you shriek, arching off the bed and trembling in his grasp. 
Using your arch as leverage, he keeps his hands underneath your back and continues to ram into you without abandon. You’re a babbling, wet mess at this point, and your cunt squeezing around him only encourages him more. 
“Fuckfuckfuck, ‘m gonna - ‘m gonna,” he curses, balls beginning to tighten. Quickly, he unsheathes himself and fists himself the rest of the way. With an impassioned moan, he climaxes–spurting thick, white, ropes of seed all over your abdomen. Then, falls onto your limp body with a grunt, chest heaving rapidly, and slick with perspiration. 
By this time, you’ve settled down enough to form a proper sentence. “That was…”
Satoru huffs, catching his breath. “Yeah.” 
Still spent, he continues to lay atop you. And you, having nowhere else to go, let him. The two of you lay comfortably in silence like this for a long time. Just you tracing shapes into his back, and him purring into your neck. Both of you know you should be getting up, but neither of you make an effort to do so. In this moment, time is transcendent. There is no rush to move when time stands still for you. 
Soon, that silence is broken. 
“I love you,” you say, and there’s no elaboration. Not even a recant. In fact, you say it so nonchalantly, he’s not even sure it was real. You say it like you’ve never been more certain in your life, like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever had to do. 
“Really?” he queries, almost pathetically like the mere idea of you loving him is something unattainable. You look at him like he’s got two heads. 
“Yeah, you’re my best friend. I’ve always loved you,” you admit, pausing your ministrations on his back, “I just had to relearn how to love you.” He smiles at this, hums into your neck to keep from crying. 
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other,” he mumbles into your neck, “so where do we go from here?”
“From here we take it slow. We’ll learn together what it means to be individuals, and then from there we’ll see where it goes,” you say matter-of-factly, “no more repeating past mistakes.”
“Agreed,” he nods, “what will we tell the girls?”
That’s when your eyes widen and you sit up, forcefully pushing Satoru off of you. 
“What did I say, what’s wrong?” he queries, sitting up on the bed. He watches you rummage around the room maniacally, head on a swivel as you run out of the room and return with a purse. You pull your phone out to see a slew of missed calls and messages. 
“We forgot to call the girls!” You yell, showing him your phone screen of missed calls. Gojo jumps up to join you, one leg already sliding into his pants. 
“Shit!” 
Noticing the state of your appearance, you pinch the skin between your brows. “Satoru, I can’t wear this! You got cum all over it,” you groan, pointing to all the splotches of white. He tells you to wait a second before disappearing into his closet, then he comes back with a fist of clothes and throws it at you. 
“I can’t wear this either, they’ll wonder why I’m wearing your clothes!” 
Satoru runs to you and pull the dress off of your body, “We’ll wash it!” he screams, disappearing again out of the room, and to where you imagine, the laundry room. When he returns, he’s out of breath and panting. It’s only then do you realize how insane he looks with half his shirt buttoned, and his pants twisted around his hips. A giggle escapes your lips.
“What are you laughing at? Chop chop,” he claps, ushering you into his bathroom. 
Yeah, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this idiot.
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nightprompts · 1 year
Text
&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.
( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )
❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜
❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜
❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜
❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜
❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜
❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 
❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜
❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜
❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜
❛ come back to bed. ❜
❛ you look good like this. ❜
❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜
❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜
❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 
❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜
❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜
❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜
❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜
❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜
❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 
❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜
❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜
❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜
❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 
❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜
❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜
❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜
❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜
❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜
❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜
❛ well? how do i look? ❜
❛ can’t sleep? ❜
❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜
❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜
❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜
❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜
❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜
❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜
❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜
❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜
❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜
❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜
❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜
❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜
❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜
❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜
❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜
❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜
❛ kiss me again. ❜
❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜
❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜
❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜
❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜
❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 
❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 
❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜
❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜
❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜
❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜
❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜
❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜
❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜
❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 
❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜
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