#anyway end of my babbling in tags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

southernbluebellereader · 6 months

Text

Being Chosen...By A Baby

Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Single Mom (COD MW(2/3))

Warning: Fluffy stuff, Baby Fever, MAJOR BABY FEVER

Summary: Simon Riley isn't too particular about babies, until he meets yours.

Word Count: ~1,670 words

Master List | Tag List Request (Tag List At The Bottom)

A/N: I loved writing this, it's been on my mind for a while. I didn't like the ending because I didn't know how to end it lol

Edit: Pronouns and names were all over the place but it should be fixed lmao thanks for letting me know

Imagine being chosen by someone. Someone intentionally looking at you and thinking - contemplating, deciding - and choosing to pick you. It’s as simple as picking you to ask for directions, ordering a cup of coffee, and begging to touch your skin.

But it’s something special when someone as small as a little child is looking at you and choosing you. No one knows what goes on in their mind, behind those curious eyes, those rosy and chubby cheeks, that little button nose, that babbling little mouth with teeth fighting to make way. No one knows what those cute little chubby cherubs think when they decide to reach out to grab anything and everything in sight.

The grip of a child is mightier than anyone Lieutenant Simon Riley has ever seen.

Lieutenant Simon Riley - the infamous Ghost. He’s not supposed to exist. The enigma.

Yet… out of anyone who could have found him and had a mighty grip on his gray fleece jacket was your little chunky cherub made of a can of Pillsbury crescent rolls, looking at him with big curious eyes, absorbing information like a sponge. Your little infant son of nine months old, sitting comfortably in a little wrap carrier so that he can comfortably lay against your chest, he has seen Simon and reached out and grabbed a little handful of his gray fleece jacket with no intention of letting go.

It was a quick day for you so you didn’t need the baby carriage today, the wrap keeping your son against your chest would suffice, you liked having your baby against your chest anyways. In the city, it was easy to get around by walking and public transport, but you needed something in the next town over so you had to take the train. The platform for the train was nearly empty, you were early, so you had some time to yourself and your little boy giggling and babbling away, occasionally wiping his nose and talking to him about the plans for the day.

Slowly but surely, people started to pile in as the time went on, the train would be arriving soon.

Even a ghost needs a place to stay, right. On the occasion that he is home, he tends to stay out of his home, usually to replace food that had spoiled while he was gone. Simon arrived at the train station and waited on the platform. It wasn’t too cold, but chilly enough to wear his gray fleece jacket.

It was nice and quiet until more people started to pile up onto the train station. Usually he didn’t mind until people started to get into his personal space, which rarely happened anyways. Even in more civilian clothes, in a place where people barely recognize him, despite him living there, people tend to stay away from people who look mysterious.

As more people pile into the station, he slowly moves towards the center of the station. Huffing slightly to himself, he glances slightly at the giant clock. The train would be arriving soon. As he waited, he’d hear bits and pieces of conversations from people about their lives.

He didn’t mind it, he felt more human.

After a while, he heard something he didn’t hear often.

An animal?

No.

A baby.

The baby seemed to continue to babble, getting louder as he moved again. For some reason it made him curious. It’s not that he wasn’t fond of children, his childhood was pretty fucked up, but a child was an innocent being in this cruel world. Sometimes he wondered what he’d be like if he’d spent more time around children - or what things would be like if he had children.

But that’s just a random thought in his mind. A man like Lieutenant Simon Riley - with the sins and atrocities he’s been through and committed, he has no business having children. He is the one mothers tell their children to stay away from. He is the boogeyman underneath a child’s bed.

Hearing the babbling again, he instinctively turns his head and looks around for a moment, then looks down, seeing the source of this little creature.

An infant child, probably no more than 9 months old, a drool covered fist in his mouth, the other arm flailing in every direction. And you, holding your child wrapped in a long cloth and tied around your waist, Simon couldn’t figure out how you held the chunky child on your chest with just a scarf.

You were on the phone with someone talking about baby related things. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and your baby. Such a mundane sight. A mother and her child. He glanced at your hand caressing your child’s chubby and rosy cheeks. No ring. Single mom? No wait, that’s rude.

Cracking a small smile at the sight, he looked at the child for a moment, finding amusement in how you tried to sooth your child as you talked on the phone, swaying your hips slightly. You kept your eyes on your little cherub the entire time, playing with your son’s cheeks, making him giggle and smile, occasionally acknowledging him, calling him your honey bun.

Then you got caught up with your conversation and looked away. Your child looked around for a moment, content and happy. Simon didn’t know what he found so amusing and intriguing about this child. When he thought about children, he thought of crying little messes, unruly children, little rascals who were nothing but trouble.

This little dough-boy? He had an urge to just poke his little rosy cheeks. You were holding your son, Simon practically stood right next to you but he couldn’t tell you what you were talking about. Your little cherub had dampened his senses.

More people started to fill the train station. The train would soon arrive. Simon was practically next to you. At this point, he didn’t mind being next to you and your baby. As more people surrounded the three of you, you glanced up at Simon and smiled sheepishly and mouthed ‘Sorry’ in an attempt to apologize in case she’d bumped into him. Simon saw as you wrapped your free arm tighter around your baby that was tightly wrapped against your chest.

It’s ok. You’re fine. He didn’t even know you, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you or your baby.

He knew the train would be arriving soon so he looked up at the time and looked to see if the train would be coming soon. Staring was rude. He had manners.

Not even a moment passed after he looked away did he feel a slight tug on his arm. Suddenly aware of his surroundings he looked down again. Your little munchkin demanded attention from the behemoth of a man named Simon. You were still on the phone, looking away.

Simon smiled at the sight and sighed in relief. You little rascal. Their eyes met, for such a cute little thing, your son looked at Simon intently, studying him. Simon was wondering what he was thinking. The little hand that had such a strong grip on his fleece jacket tugged at him to come closer.

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” Simon said, using his other hand to wave at your child, making him smile slightly and let out a gleeful sound.

You turned your head at the sound and laughed at the sound of your son laughing, then blushed when you realized he was pulling on Simon’s sleeve. She quickly said her good-bye on the phone and hung up, then looked up at Simon, smiling sheepishly.

“I-I’m sorry, sir-” You gently pulled on your baby’s arm to try and get him to let go of his arm.

Simon let out a small chuckle as he waited patiently, smiling at the sight, “It’s fine. He’s got a mighty grip, alright.”

You chuckled as your child started babbling at Simon, as if he could be understood, refusing to let go despite your attempt to make him unhand Simon, “Once they got you, they don’t want to let go.”

You glanced up at Simon, seeing a small smile on the man. He reached up also with his free hand and gently held the child’s wrist, “I ain’t going anywhere, you can let go of me now. I think we’re going on the same train.”

Your child finally let go but continued to try and reach out for Simon, instantly taking a liking to him. You sighed as you looked up at Simon, the train finally approaching, “I’m sorry again, sir-”

“It’s fine, really. You’ve got a cute one.” Simon smiled at you and your child, who was still mesmerized by him.

You smiled up at him in return, glancing down at your son, then back up at Simon, “Haha yeah, he is something.”

Once the train doors opened, people quickly exited the train as quickly as people entered.

“This is my train-” You looked up at him and then toward the train, then attempted to walk forward. But people rushed around them. You kept your arms around your child and Simon felt the need to stay close, this way people would actually walk around you as you and Simon stepped into the train.

Once inside, you found a seat and sighed as you sat down. The seats filled up quickly and Simon ended up sitting opposite of you and your baby.

Smiling awkwardly at each other, you apologized again for your son grabbing onto him.

“It’s fine, really. I like his determination.” Simon looked at him as you turned slightly so Simon could see her son’s face, who smiled when he saw Simon again. “What’s his name?”

“Joseph. But I think he likes being called Joey.” You said as she caressed little Joey’s cheek as he cooed at Simon.

Simon gave her and Joey a genuine smile this time. Joseph… Tommy’s son…

“I’m Simon, what’s your name?” He looked up at her.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Simon.”

Tag List:

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat @kult6 @loadedberetta @sarahs-secrets2 @whore4dilfs @addy3114 @ollie71526483 @blueoorchid

#cod #call of duty #call of duty mw #call of duty mwii #call of duty mw2 #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod platonic #ghost x reader #fan fic #fan fiction #simon #riley #lieutenant simon riley #riley x reader

676 notes · View notes

suckerforlovesblog · 10 months

Text

Pretty little thing

Pretty little thing Masterlist

Series summary: All Mr. Shelby wanted was to remarry. He had to find himself another wife after the death of Grace, not just to take care of his son Charlie but also to grant him access to the finer society of Birmingham. All he wanted the girl to be was a pretty little thing on his arm who simply submitted, obeyed and followed his orders.

And he did find the perfect girl - young, very good looking, of a good upbringing, smart but little did he expect her to have such a strong mind of her own…

All he wanted to do was break her in, like a horse had to be, and his new wife put up a good fight but eventually he is sure, he will break her and make her his completely.

Series warning: Dark!Tommy, toxic relationship, abuse, rape, non consensual intercourse, rough sex, age gap, Sir kink, choking - all the things that come with rough smut

Chapter 1: The perfect girl

Summary: Thomas Shelby is out searching for a wife. Most young women in Birmingham throw themselves at him but he doesn’t like that and goes out further to search for the perfect girl to be on his arm whilst hanging on his lips.

Chapter Warning: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex

Word count: 1.5k

~ tag list: @ncoleys , @amberpanda99 , @priyajoyy @tommyshelbywhore @swordofawriter @goth-cowgirl-03 @thenattitude @sheun-555 @meetmeatyourworst @bruher @frazie99 @blvebanisters @jessimay89 ~

I‘m very intrigued to hear your thoughts!

Also: please let me know what you would like to read! My requests are OPEN!

End of 1925:

Thomas Shelby was still grieving the death of his beloved wife Grace, even after an entire year, and everyone around him knew. He did blame himself for her death because he gave her the bewitched jewel to wear and even put it onto her himself. And she wore it that night, like a target painted on her forehead. But business had to keep going and Charlie desperately needed a mother figure in his life. Frances, the maid, was doing her best and Ada and Polly came to help out from time the time but it just wasn’t the same. He had even hired a governess, a very pretty thing, blonde and petite and at least fifteen years younger then him, to attend to his son’s needs because he couldn’t always be there for him. Thomas who was now nearing forty, also really enjoyed the governess presence, at least when he bend her over a table, fucked her from behind and she didn’t talk. Other than that he avoided her most of the time and let her do her work.

She fulfilled his needs but it didn’t help him with business.

So, Thomas Shelby called a family meeting at Arrow House and now everyone was sitting in front of him in the drawing room: Arthur and Linda, John and Esme, Polly and Michael, Ada, Finn, Charlie, Curly, Jeremia and his son, and Lizzie, of course. Sometimes he still slept with her but she would never be good enough to be his wife. He did like her but Lizzie’s social standing was beneath his new position as a business man.

“Thank you everyone for coming, eh!”, Tommy’s voice boomed: “I have an important announcement to make and I think I need everyone’s help.” All the people in the small room looked at him. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath and then said: “I decided that it’s time for me to remarry. It will be good for business.” Lizzie looked at him with wide sad eyes, knowing he would never share the feelings she had for him. Arthur stood up, smiling and went up to give Thomas a small hug, “Proud of you, Tom. Linda will help for sure.” Everyone else looked reassuring and Curly started babbling something no one was able to make out. “May I ask what kind of business you think of concluding?”, Polly said. “Yes but I will not tell just yet ‘eh.”, Tommy says, wetting his lip, “I just think a wife will open up new branches for us and make the company more respectable.” He then puts a cigarette between his lips, after fishing it out of the gold case from the pocket of his coat: “Anyways today is a day to celebrate and I invite you all to dinner. Now, Michael, John and Arthur stay, everyone else I see at dinner.” Thomas lights his cigarette whilst everyone leaves the room except for his brothers and Michael. He sits back down and explains the guys what he’s looking for in his future wife, mostly talking to Michael because the girl should be around his age, a very desirable age in his opinion. The four men make a plan to start the search for his wife tomorrow, starting with all the respectable families in Birmingham and then toast to their success with Irish whiskey, of course.

Early spring of 1926:

Thomas and Michael looked at all the young women in Birmingham, from a respectable upbringing at least. John joked that the two of them fucked their way through Birmingham and that was true to some extent. None of the girls satisfied Thomas’ needs however and Michael was growing tired. “If you keep going like that Tom, we will never find a girl for you. One is not tall enough, the next one doesn’t have enough tits, another one is too stupid, then she is pretty but not gorgeous. This is exhausting.”, Michael says looking at him from the drivers seat of the new Bentley Thomas got. The car was extremely luxurious and expensive.

“Well Michael, we gotta find the perfect girl for me, eh.”, he answered, taking a puff of his cigarette, “She needs to be smart and eloquent for me to be able to bring her around business partners. But she ought to be gorgeous as well because then negotiations will be even easier because men are dumbstruck if they’re accompanied by beautiful women.” Michael also lights a cigarette: “I get that Tom but if we keep going at that speed my dick won’t work anymore with the girl I may marry in the future because I emptied everything I have into some girls” They both laughed and kept driving to meet Alfie Solomons in Camden Town for business.

After driving past the first couple of buildings, he barks at Michael to stop the car and Thomas basically jumps out. He brushes his coat down, fishes a cigarette out of its case and puts it into it mouth leaving Michael more than puzzled. Thomas started walking towards a building, lighting the cigarette with a match and then enters a shop, a tailoring shop it appears. Michael still sits in the car, smoking a cigarette as well and waiting for him to come back.

Thomas looks around the shop, searching for the woman he just saw. He only saw her side profile but Tommy knew she was the one, now on his way to make her his, willing to do whatever it might take and hoping she wasn’t already married. Fuck, even if she was, he were to make her his for sure.

He was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn’t even hear the little bell ring as he entered through the door and then the people inside the shop turning to him. The pretty woman he searched for was sitting behind a desk to his right and he made his way towards her but was stopped abruptly in his step by the owner of the shop. “Sir”, the small man called out, “how may I help you?” “Aye, I need a new suit please and may I have a word with the young lady at the desk?”, Thomas answers. “For sure”, the man says in a low purr, scarred of the dominance in his voice, “we will leave you to it, Sir.” Tommy nods and the man leaves the shop through the back door, pulling a women behind him.

Thomas approaches the woman. She was already looking at him through her Y/E/C eyes, smiling lightly. “Hello miss, my name is Thomas Shelby, owner of the Shelby Company Limited. I saw you out in the street and you caught my eye”, he said and smiled an earnest smile. “My name is Y/N, my farther is the owner of the shop.”, the girl answered. He looked at her thoroughly and she got even more prettier the longer he looked at her. Although Thomas didn’t feel any affection towards her but she was very pretty for sure and he knew that she would be the perfect wife: young, a pretty face and fine features, nice hair, a slim figure. Her voice was very calm and had a pretty sound to it. He knew she would be the perfect little thing on his arm. He looks at her with his icy blue eyes, “Tell me sweetheart, how old are you?” “I just turned 18, Sir”, she said. The obedience and innocence in her voice made him hard, without help anyways, for the first time since Grace died. His heart ached for his lost love but he needed this to work and pushed the face of his dead wife out of his thoughts. “You’re not married, eh?”, he asked the girl more nearly twenty years younger then him. She shook his head, seemingly submitting him to, scarred of his booming figure. He really liked that and smiled: “Please get your farther to me, I need to speak with him. In private. And take the measurements for the suit I ordered, will you sweetheart?” She got up, nodding and getting her farther at first, afterwards measuring him and writing all the details down for his order. She was sent out shortly after, leaving her farther with the unknown man with the pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me Sir, is everything to your liking so far”, the old man asked Thomas. “Yes, indeed”, he answered with his thick Birmingham accent, “I would like to marry your daughter. I know this sounds rushed but she immediately caught my eye and I can provide for her very well.” The older man, the girls farther, looked at him reserved and averse. Thomas looked at him with his blue piercing eyes, radiating pride and dominance and the older man submitted. “Listen, eh, I give you a great deal for her and promise to provide and care for the girl.”, Thomas says, putting another cigarette between his lips, letting it dangle for a little while before lightning it with a match.

He pursued the conversation for a little while longer, settling everything important, like the wedding date and the money the family will receive. After it was all settled Thomas went outside of the shop, calling Michael to set up and then seal the document.

The girl came back into the shop, Thomas walked over to her and put his hand on her waist. She looked up at him confused but he just smiled at Michael: “Meet my darling fiancé, Y/N. We will be married in two weeks time and she will be Mrs. Shelby.”

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #Thomas Shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby rough smut #tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy

688 notes · View notes

lazyneonrabbitt · 8 months

Text

Mommy?

Single dad!Carmen x reader

Carmen's daughter likes you and doesn't know the meaning of the word 'no'.

~~☆☆☆~~

You stepped into the sandwich place, your laptop bag slung around your shoulder as something collided with your leg and clinging to it.

"Oh shit, sorry I- she slipped away from me." A man apologises for the little child around your leg, lowering himself to her level and tiredly begging her to let you go.

You took a better look at the toddler at your side. She had the man's curly hair and wore a fluffy teddybear onesie.

The man in front of you was tired. No question about it and his attire told you he worked here.

"Hey, you know what?" His focus moves from the child up to you. "How about I watch her for a bit? I'm planning on getting some work done here anyways and I'll probably be around when your shift ends." You shrugged at your own suggestion, placing a hand on the child's curls making her giggle at you.

"I uh- my shift ends a couple hours after we close." He wasn't declining your offer, he just didn't want you to waste your whole day here. He had gotten up again by now to talk to you at eye level. "I'm Carmen." He extends a hand to you to shake. "I own this place. And this here's Alex," he motions at the babbling todddler who was now casually hanging from your hand. "She's my kid. Daycare wouldn't take her cus she sneezed one too many times on drop off this morning." A tired hand runs over his face as he recalls why she's here.

"Hey, I'll watch her for you. Just come say hi a couple of times and we'll be good." You shoo'd him off and he went back to the kitchen. But not before making sure he got your food order and saying goodbye to his daughter.

Over the course of the day he swung by your table to watch you type away on your laptop while Alex was no doubt ruining your highlighters and scribbling on the back of your notepad. During food breaks she was in your lap and you'd watch some kids videos on Youtube with the sound low enough to not bother anyone.

Little Alex had been an absolute sweetheart the whole time, clinging to you and showing off her artworks that had rendered your notepad entirely useless.

Around dinnertime Carmen had come back again, insisting he'd be fine watching her himself now, but you assured him you were good and didn't mind staying the few extra hours. He accepted reluctantly and rought you two dinner on the house, dessert included.

When the placed closed down and Carmen was finished cleaning everything he came by one last time, to pick up his daughter and thank you again for watching her. You exchanged phone numbers in case he ever needed a babysitter.

Leaving was a lot more difficult than you had thought. Alex threw the biggest fit the second you turned to the door, running up to you and clamping herself around your leg, sniffling No's leaving her lips as she sat down on your foot with her arms around your calf. Tears staining your jeans.

Carmen stood there, a hand on his hip, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. "Come on, teddybear. She's tired too, we're all going to our homes and sleep, okay?" He tried bribing, any and all promises he could think of, even physically prying her off your leg resulted in the biggest drama he had ever seen her make.

You felt bad for Carmen. The permanent bags under his gorgeous blue eyes and the mess of curls you wanted to run you-- "what if I tag along and put her in bed?" The suggestion seemingly came out of nowhere amd it took Carmen a moment to register your words.

His place was an even bigger mess than he was and he'd be ashamed if she saw Alex's living situation. But then again, he was a single dad with an extremely demanding job, so the mess did explain itself that way..

"Yeah, okay." A simple, soft answer that had Alex screech with joy.

The three of you made your way over to his car. Since Alex wouldn't let go of you, you carried her while Carmen carried your bag for you as well as his own.

His place wasn't big. But it was big enough for him and Alex. On your way through the livingroom you had to watch your step and not trip over the large amount of toys on the floor. The coffeetable held day old mugs and coffee circles permanently staining the wood. The dinnertable was covered in paperwork but the kitchen looked decent enough, besides the dishes in the sink.

Carmen could feel you judging him, trying to speed up the whole going to bed ritual Alex had so you could stop being grossed out by the mess.

After watching Carmen struggle with the currently very difficult child you stepped in and offered assistence.

Carmen stepped aside and mimiced his steps but in your own way. Suddenly she was the sweetest child ever and did everything you told her to.

"Are you serious? Now you can listen?" The soft complaint didn't go unnoticed and made you giggle as you tucked her in and wished her sweet dreams. Besides you Carmen leaned over to give her kisses and said goodnight as well.

"Why does she listen so well to you?" The question wasn't meant in a bad way, even though it sounded like jealousy. "Guess she just wants a mom." You answered from across the kitchen island. Carmen insisted you stayed for a drink and talk about your day with her. "Neither you or her ever uttered anything mom-related so I guessed it's just you two." You sounded like a prying therapist right now, but you meant it in a kind way.

Clearly both of you sucked when it came to words.

"Her mom was a drunken mistake." He downs half of his drink and decided right there he was gonna talk about it. If you deleted his number and walked out afterwards, so be it.

"I didn't even know she had a kid until kne day she stopped by the restaurant. I barely recognised her but she still made a whole scene about some mistake, dropped the carrier with a crying baby at my feet and shoved a stack of paperwork in my hands." He downed the other half of his drink, not liking how recalling those memories felt. "I barely knew her, only saw her twice before moving back here from New York and found me all the way here to drop the baby and all her papers stating I was the one responsible for her on me and leave after screaming at me amd blaming me for leaving."

Carmen's story shocked you. You sat in silence after he finished, not sure how to respond to such a confession, so you offered your help once more.

After a while babysitting Alex at work and tucking her into bed turned into babysitting, tucking her into bed and moving into the next one together with Carmen. His early shifts really messed up Alex's sleep scedule so he suggested you staying the night and working from his apartment and do Alex's morning routine at a more acceptable hour than 6am, when he's kiss you goodmorning, wish you some good few more hours of sleep and went off to work.

Carmen was enjoying your time together so much, and Alex was almost permanently attached to you when you were around so his only thought was how he was going to ask you to move in with him. You already had a spare key so giving you one of those in a fancy little box wouldn't work.

Eventually he thoight of an idea that just had to work.

He wrote a note from Alex's point of view, rolled it up and tied a little bow around it and handed it to his daughter. "Can you go give this to her, please? It's a gift."

Alex immediately ran over to you, waving the paper roll at you and smacking it against your leg. She mumbled a quick "foyou" before waving it up at you again.

You accepted the gift with a grand display of thanks, with kisses and a hug, a whole scene amd read the note in silence. You recognised Carmen's handwriting immediately and smiled your way throigh the creatively written sentences.

"So, you want me to be mommy, huh?" You asked Alex, but not without moving your stare up to meet Carmen's, who looked away quickly to hide his blush.

A string of Yes and Please and happy giggles were all the convincing you needed before agreeing to move into Carmen's apartment officially.

#sometimes i write #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear

704 notes · View notes

threewaywithdelusion · 10 months

Text

You Me Her

Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here

Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington.

By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him.

Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched.

But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin.

And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet.

Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her.

Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock.

Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down.

Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry.

Robin blushed.

Tammy turned back around.

Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence.

Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt.

Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”

Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak.

Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth.

“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”

“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”

“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”

“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”

She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew.

Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense.

“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”

***

But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school.

“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”

So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night.

They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars.

“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar.

Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”

“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked.

Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”

“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely.

“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched.

One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”

The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement.

“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin.

Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington.

But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him.

“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”

Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”

Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”

Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa.

“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked.

Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool.

“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked.

Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”

Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”

“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out.

But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while.

Robin sighed, loud and long.

“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”

“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”

Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy.

Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”

“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”

“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”

“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised.

Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting.

Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real.

Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space.

“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”

“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?

“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”

***

Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend.

“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye.

“Hi?” Robin answered.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”

Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?

“What?” Robin asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley.

“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”

“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?

But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?

Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”

Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow.

“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”

He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him.

“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”

Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”

“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”

“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Carol asked.

“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said.

Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question.

Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”

Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”

Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted.

Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?

“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step.

Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock.

That was fair. Robin was shocked too.

Was Steve defending her?

Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.

“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”

“Robin is great,” Steve insisted.

Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”

With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.

Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat.

“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic.

Robin hated him.

“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve.

She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed.

***

Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again.

He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care.

“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”

“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy.

Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”

“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?

Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.

“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again.

Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think.

“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”

So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell.

And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with.

Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her.

Steve Harrington was ruining everything.

***

“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything.

Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”

“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”

A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway.

“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.

“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”

Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”

“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”

“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny.

“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”

Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?

“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her.

“It’s not about me,” Robin said.

“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation.

Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”

The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar.

“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.

He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut.

She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it.

***

The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy.

Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut.

Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke.

Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this.

After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again.

She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other.

At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast.

Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.

“Robin! Did you see that!”

Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness.

“I did,” she said.

“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.

“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”

***

The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down.

It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?

***

A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”

“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool.

“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”

Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her.

“You’re going?” Robin asked dully.

“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”

“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”

***

Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there.

By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard.

Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention.

Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room.

Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers.

That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.

Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”

“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile.

“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment.

“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”

“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson.

The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers.

“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”

She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda.

“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.

Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers.

Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side.

Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare.

“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tommy said.

Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”

Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”

Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”

So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward.

From there, they kept going around the circle.

Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”

Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink.

“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”

Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be.

Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet.

Then it was Tammy’s turn.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes.

A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”

Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s.

Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly.

“Okay,” Tammy said.

Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her.

It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand.

Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face.

“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”

Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing.

She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her.

“Truth,” Robin said.

Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”

Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with.

But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”

“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.

Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”

It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker.

Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side.

Robin felt like she was going to throw up.

Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”

The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her.

Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side.

Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”

Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?

She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again.

Robin didn’t really believe it.

She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in.

“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever.

Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”

Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her.

Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce.

She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian.

Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her.

“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”

Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her.

Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her.

He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”

Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl.

Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester.

Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up.

She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it.

Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips.

Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing.

But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other.

Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss.

Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.

And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?

Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.

Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this.

She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss.

He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.

After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth.

He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression.

He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference.

Someone wolf-whistled.

Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.

Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him.

“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”

“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said.

Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for.

Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe.

As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”

She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss.

This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy.

“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock.

She kind of wanted to know more about him.

She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand.

In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them.

Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain.

“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had.

“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side.

Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?

Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.

Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss.

“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said.

Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle.

Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real.

She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.

“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”

***

On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school.

His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes.

Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”

Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”

“I like them better this way,” Steve said.

Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”

“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before.

She was dying to know why he’d done it.

“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased.

“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”

“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird.

But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”

“Yo, Harrington,” called a basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”

“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough.

The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”

Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”

“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said.

“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner.

Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”

“You’re not going to basketball?”

“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”

“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.

Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”

“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”

“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”

Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”

DM? Was that some Hellfire term?

Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.

“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”

“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said.

Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”

Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”

He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend.

Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ao3 #because ao3 is down #robin buckley #Steve harrington #carol perkins #stobin #platonic stobin #time travel fanfiction #mia writes fanfic

1K notes · View notes

lollipopliccer · 4 months

Text

𝔄 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔣𝔢𝔩𝔱 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 ❦

❦ warning lollipop chaos ahead! proceed with caution… ❦ light angst , happy ending , ex getō suguru , tattoo artist suguru , set in a tattoo parlour , soft dom geto , praise , cunnilingus , masochism , light sadism & impact play , ig semi public and i guessss office sex

the descriptions of this tattoo experience is not accurate, i dunno shit abt tattoos (even tho i rlly wanna get one). so don't bite my fucking dick off with the technicalities! lets just b happy that i acc posted this hehehe

word count ; 5k ish

black fem reader (still all can read)

lollipopliccer’s love letter ❦ … hiiiii lollipops 🪷 i just wanted to say thank u sm for the love on my debut fic i rlly appreciated it. i’m rlly excited for y’all to read this new one EEEEE. this one was also long as helllll (¬_¬), shit has just been ridiculous in my life rn so sorry abt the delay, i don’t even know y it took me this long just to write 5k ugh anywayyy. i’m excited, cus i always eat up geto tattoo artist head-cannons, mmmm they’re just so mm mm mm tasty. anyway this is my first time writing some angst, i usually stay clear away from any typa angst, i’ve already got enough of that in my life plss haahaa, i don’t even know what possessed me to dip my toe in it, but don’t worry it’s very light. okayy enough of the babble, pls enjoy my fic, and i’d appreciate all ur interaction, reposts, comments, feedback blah blah… mwah mwah mwah ( ੭ ˘ ³˘)੭‎°｡⋆♡‧₊˚

'i'm so excitteedddd' you squeal, as your best friend nobara parks her car, beside the tattoo parlor. you both had been planning your tattoos together for a few weeks now settling on the most beautiful matching heart design on both your bikini lines, whilst individually having unique patterns going through the (tatted) hearts.

"you better not fucking scream when you're actually under the gun" nobara chastises laughing.

"fuck you bitch, you already know i'm bad like that, not even gonna flinch" you taunt, as you both get out of her car.

you decided on wearing a fitted, short black dress, that accentuated your curves and hips but would also be easily manoeuvrable for your tattoo placement. shoko Ieiri your tattoo artist made sure you were comfortable with your design and placement.

underneath your dress, you wore bikini bottoms with side ties, for the same reasons as the dress - paired with some white trainers with pink embellishments. you complete your outfit with jewellery. including your pandora bracelet with silver and pink charms, a necklace, and stud earrings.

you both walk into the parlour, it's decorated all over its dark blue walls with a myriad of paintings, sketches, and different artworks. nobara leads you to the front desk as she had booked the appointment. you're greeted by a raven-haired girl with a short pixie cut.

"hey, are you guys here for your appointment?" she asks, as you notice her name tag- 'maki', and her tattoos and scars peeking through her top.

"yeah, um we had an appointment for 6:30 pm" nobara states, you can see her start to blush at maki.

"cool, yeah i'll check that out for you, umm..." maki responds

nobara so obviously interested in maki, decides to flirt, while you absent-mindedly look at the artwork placed across the shop. it's truly captivating, the deep dark hues and colours, so beautifully drawn, depicting what you could only describe as demons. they were more abstract than the stereotypical depiction, but these works somehow gave more meaning and conveyed more torment.

"so how long have you been working here, maki right?" nobara asks

"yeah, i started some months ago."

"that's cool, i love your tats”

“thank you, i um did some of em myself, nobara right?” maki responds getting nobara’s name from the booked appointment slot

“yeah…” nobara smiles shyly

“…are those your sketches up there? nobara asks, pointing to one of the sketches you've been staring at, there's a familiarity to the work displayed. but you can't put your finger on it.

"no um that's actually from another tattoo artist's, geto." maki answers.

you almost freeze, just from the mention of his name "who?!"

"uhh geto suguru, he owns the place, his artwork is all over these walls" maki responds to you.

a shiver runs up your spine "oh..."

"on that note, i'm sorry for the inconvenience girls, but shoko, your tattooist she had to take our other colleague gojo to the hospital- broke his arm doing some dumb shit. so she won't be able to actually give you your tattoo’s today, however we're able to swap her in for geto suguru, he just got back into town and is just as talented"

"shit" nobara turns to you, already knowing the issue from just his name alone, "yn i had no idea omg, i should've checked better, we can leave"

"nah there'll be no need for that, right yn?" you hear his voice. his silky deep voice, it always had that raspy quality that made your knees go weak. another shiver runs down your spine. you whip around.

"why tf are you here?" you sneer.

"uhh i work here…" he answers deadpan.

you turn back around, after giving him a lethal sneer, "hey um maki is there any other artist today?"

"no, i'm sorry, everyone else is booked." she apologises

"and anyway, it'll be a hassle for you guys if you were to reschedule," geto states

you simply stare at nobara refusing to even glance at him.

"come on yn" geto insists gently, leaning closer to you. your back to him. your name on his lips has you reeling, how softly he calls to you, like no other.

nobara waits for what you want to do, and if you're comfortable being tattooed by your ex in such an intimate area?

"let's get this done", you tell nobara, you turn around to face geto who has that enticing smirk.

as you follow him to his workspace, nobara hangs back reassured that you're comfortable being with your ex. you get the chance to truly take him in since last you saw him. his tattoo’s have grown, as he's painted a whole-sleeved dragon across his left arm, slithering out of his tight-fitted black t. your eyes roam all over his body, soaking in his confident stride, his height, taller than you remember. the way he ties part of his black, luscious hair in the bun is similar but different from the way you remember, leaving the rest of his hair to hang past his shoulders. but his right-hand tattoo is as you remember. a rose’s stem covered in thorns, wrapped around his hand, you can't help but still have your heart swell from that.

as he opens the door for you, you strut past him in silence, he of course responds with an eye roll to your petulance. his workspace is decorated with more of his works, some unfinished, yet so mesmerising you can't look away from them, they seem to depict a greater depth, too intimate for the outer world. the deep hues of dark royal blues, blacks, and green meld together, casting an otherworldly aura. the demons here have this eerie elegance, their features subtly tormenting, evoking such sorrows.

"if you're not comfortable with me tattooing you, we don't have to, i will let you reschedule free of charge-" "i know." you state, without hesitation. and with that, the silence returns as geto smiles slightly, he then grabs his equipment, lining them up, his needle gun, ink, etc.

"why did you insist on me not rescheduling then?" you taunt

"i wouldn't say i instisted" geto defends.

"mmm really? cus i'd even say you implored" you smirk. seeing you smile… he wonders how he could’ve forgotten how magnetic it is.

"i just wanted to see you…”

a pause.

"you broke up with me." you interrupt coldly, both of you are reminded of your separation...

… you begged him to stay. the pain you felt completely consumed you, leaving you empty…

geto holds your gaze. your eyes filled with anger, but also longing. you try to conceal your feelings by turning around.

"yn..." he calls out to you, but you ignore him, seemingly too entranced by a random splotch on the wall, while trying to hold it all in "...yn look at me", geto approached.

you turned around slowly. almost stubbornly, you made sure to look him in his eyes, those deep dark orbs that never failed to suck you into a world of intensity and sensitivity. you both hold each other's gaze, so much said between each other, longing, and regret.

"i am sorry yn, i-" in his attempt to express his apology, you immediately stride past to sit on the tattoo bed, too overwhelmed.

"-right so like from a scale of 1-10, 10 being i'm gonna need to b fucking sedated, how painful is this tat going to be" you ramble, trying to divert the conversation.

you ignore his sigh, as he walks to his chair. he then chooses to focus on preparing his equipment, sterilising them, all that shit. "the tattoo shouldn't be that painful, especially as you requested numbing cream."

"cool" you respond curtly, you follow his actions on focusing on the task at hand, and lift up the side of your dress, to expose the side you were getting tatted on.

when geto looks back he sees your pink bikini bottoms with string ties, he looks away trying to keep his composure "just want you to give me an idea where you want your heart and thorns”.

you clear your throat a little, to try and calm your nerves, “um just around here, i trust your um artistic inclinations. have some freedom with it, i know its kinda simple but i um- the thorns i want them to wrap around, please.”

“of course, yn”

geto trying his best to make this experience as comfortable as possible begins applying the numbing cream. he looks you in your eyes, to see if there were any remaining apprehensions, finding none, the gun comes to life.

“you tell me how you’re feeling throughout this process, if anything feels off with what i am doing, you tell me, do you understand?” geto instructs, his firmness, and apprehension to cause you any unnecessary harm stirs things in you. things you’ve tried repressing, tried to move on from, evidently unsuccessfully.

you nod in response adding a “yes”. and so begins the process, as geto brings needle to skin, his art begins to mark you. the initial twitch of pain you feel is subdued by the numbing cream generously applied. although you can’t help the slight yelp that falls from your lips, which geto catches onto and immediately soothes “shhh it’s okay, the cream will kick in soon won’t feel a thing hun”. his words soothe you, as they always used to, leading you to simply whimper in slight pain. you can’t help but look at him, at how he’s completely focused on your brown skin, that he marks by his hands.

…

as the hours go on, you slowly see geto’s work, his art come together, the red hues of the heart mixing together with slight pinks but also contrasted shades of black, to provide it with such depth, teasing the later depictions of darkness the thorns will add. you are in complete awe of this man, of his work, as you watch him work completely zoned in, despite any dull pain mumbling under the numbing cream.

as your focus lays on him- memories, old feelings of pain, sadness, and confusion begin to bubble again, and you blurt…

“why did you leave?”

a pause…

followed by silence… your demand for answers hanging over you both, while he still remains focused on your tattoo, you remain waiting. you know he heard you.

“i found myself in darkness again, yn, but that time it was even more challenging.. my hallucinations, my night terrors all came back, i was in it deep…” he pauses trying to find his words, and you give him that space “… i knew you were there for me, holding me when i woke up screaming. you stood by me…” he paused

“…however i couldn’t let you do that, i couldn’t bring you there with me. not when i couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world. i needed to find myself again, my purpose. and i know the way i left you, was cold, and confusing, and i am truly sorry, but i had to do it for myself.” as you listen attentively, watching him intently, he slowly gazes at you, pausing his work. your eyes meet with such intensity, such ache, and you start welling up, finally understanding everything, no longer being left with nothing but a cold departure.

“i’m sorry- m’so- ‘m so so sorry geto” tears cascade down your face, geto is quick to wipe them away, softly holding your precious face.

“sshh, ssh baby, don’t be silly mmm, you did nothing wrong, and i’ve been doing better. so much better. finding new channels to express how i feel, what i see.” referring to the intricate art that decorated his walls.

you sniffle, you feel so guilty and ashamed, for the resentment you harboured against him when he was out there trying to fight his way out of such a dark mental space. “they’re beautiful.” you sniffle

“not a day goes by that i don’t think about you, that i don’t regret the way i left. i would’ve come back but i thought you would move on...”

“i didn’t.” you respond

“neither did i.”

with your admissions to one another, a comforting silence fell, filling the room with sweet serenity, and you both found yourselves tethered together once again, holding each other’s gaze, filled with yearning.

you were the first to break, averting your gaze, feeling like it was the first time meeting, how your butterflies bloomed and fluttered, riddled with carnal hunger for him. the paradox of your feelings for him always consumed you, almost driving you mad, only geto could set you so ablaze.

the needle resumed its course, mechanically piercing your skin. both your attentions returned to their original positions.

the only difference being the shift in the atmosphere, the reignition of your feelings for one another, but this time at a tenfold from the time spent apart, wanting no other.

“ahh it’s getting a little sore geto” you whine in slight pain

“sorry yn, we’re moving onto the thorns now, we’ll soon be done, why don’t you take a look at it for me, tell if you don’t like anything?”

as he wipes over the completed heart, filled with colours and dimensions, so deep and beautiful, truly depicting more than you could imagine, it’s medium-sized maintaining a slight cuteness to the art, but still depicts chaos within, which geto clearly understood about you, and so was best to depict it.

“i love it.” you squeal, looking into his eyes, as he looks for reassurance from you. his vibrant smile brightens his face, you hadn’t seen it in so long, and it warmed you.

“good, we’re going to move to the thorns, wrapped down your thigh, why don’t you tell me about your choice of thrones?” geto asked so he could understand your thought process behind the tattoo.

you were apprehensive to reveal your thorns, largely from a place of embarrassment. you didn’t want to show how much he had affected you, and still did, but you did not want to lie to him especially after, he revealed himself so intimately to you.

the thorns, um, i got them from you…” geto halts at this, looking at you in slight confusion “they stemmed from me just wanting to have a piece of you still with me, something that i remembered, that reminded me of you… the thorns, the ones you have on your rose.” in explaining, you feel bold enough to touch the inked rose on his right hand, grazing your fingers over the thorns

suguru can hardly conceal his feelings. “i missed you.” geto states. his dark, sleek eyes told you how he burned for you.

“i missed you too suguru.” you whisper. your feelings flood your body, making you tingly- his intensity holds you in place. you’re both focussed on one another, suguru begins to smile feeling the warmth of your fingers touching him so delicately.

"lets continue your tattoo, i don't wanna fuck it up" suguru states, slowly bringing his hand away from your touch, even though he wanted nothing more than to let you touch him all over. to feel how those pretty acrylics, decorated in bows and charms along his skin, but he didn't want to mess this up, he wanted to tattoo you perfectly.

"okay" you respond, almost dissapointedly. wanting to feel him under your fingertips. you'd settle for now to feel his hands on your thighs, holding them to get his angles right, you were beginning to realise that you wanted more than just to stroke his hand. you want him to mark you all over, with more than just his needle gun.

"you've gotta try and stay still for me yn, i know it hurts, but it'll be over soon" suguru soothed, as his eyes narrowed around the curves of your thighs, the way they flexed and trembled slightly as you whimpered due to the numbed pain.

"okay... can i hold onto you?" you ask. he responds with a nod. you grip his arm, wanting to feel tethered- you don't remember him being so well-built, his biceps feel thick and powerful, almost hard to the touch as he flexes per his movements.

...

you're now a few hours into the tattoo, suguru’s taking his time, to add such beautiful details. the tension between the two of you is palpable, but the air is no longer filled with animosity, but rather intimacy. knowing you though, and how impatient you are suguru already sees it coming when you-

"sug i'm fucking borreeddd" the numbing cream obviously doing its job to reduce the pain to something dismissible, suguru chuckles finding your impatience so familial and adorable.

"it's barely been two hours" suguru forever sassy, remarks, rolling his eyes at ur moodiness. "now stay still, you're messin up my work." suguru states, you huff and bite your tongue, as you don’t want to fuck up his flow, you already know he works best when he’s zoned-in on a task.

you decide to catch up with him, your curiosity building, you've both missed so much from each other's lives. "i like your parlour. i would've bet money you'd turn your art into tattoos, you were too talented to let your art hide in your sketches"

suguru smiles again, "yeah? it was either this or burning down the town", he jokes and makes you both laugh, due to the absurdity. however, you both knew, there was some truth to it, which honestly added to your laughs

"right, of course committing arson, and potential mass murder is an obvious alternative." you sarcastically quip

"what you don't agree, i know you're not much better at keeping your chaos in check," he teases, his eyes locking onto yours.

you feel yourself flush, feeling seen- so you try staying on track to your original plan to catch up with him, "when did you open this place?"

"well actually gojo was the one who invested in my passion"

"that's so sweet"

"yeah, he's a fucking asshole, always all up in my business," he remarks, with a small smile, feigning annoyance. you can feel the fondness behind his words.

you notice how suguru smiles, how he teases, just like he used to, & still has that assertive and confident allure to him, that natural dominance and assuredness in himself, that he almost lost. your conversation with one another continued, bantering off one another. you make each other laugh and snicker and your heart can’t help but swell.

...

your feelings for him set aflame once again. this time with a ferocity you could barely contain. only heightened by the dull pain that he controlled with his needle, marking you so prettily. the assured control suguru had over your body was so seductive, it made places other than your tatted thigh, start to ache, start to ache so badly.

finally, geto lays the finishing touches on your tattoo, clearing up the intricate lines, adding shadings and highlights, and then wiping over the tattoo.

"okay, it's done. you can go check it in the mirror, let me know if you hate it." geto keeping his gaze low somewhat anxious to see your reaction.

as you approach the full-body mirror attached to the opposite wall, you couldn't possibly understand his apprehension because when you lay eyes on your tattoo, you are completely awestruck. you fall completely in love with his markings, the way the thorns pierce through the heart and sliver down your left hip, and thigh, wrapping them gorgeously.

you are lost for words, your lips part with a gasp, and when you bring your eyes up onto suguru through the mirror, you see how he watches you. following from your thighs decorated in his work, marking your body so seductively. then he focuses on how your dress is bunched up on those hips, those hips he’s held, and soothed over for hours today, but his mind wanders... reminiscing about all those times he used to handle and caress all over your plump thighs. how he would mould your body any way he pleased.

he watched as you held the undone ties of your pretty bikini bottoms, it made him salivate. his eyes cast over your dress- the way it hugged your body so exquisitely, propping up your boobs so prettily. the way your butt peaks out of the bunched-up dress, and how your breathing picked up, flustered from his heated gaze.

"i love it sug." you whisper softly.

"yeah?" he smirks. growing bolder, he walks up to you, and you don’t dare avert your eyes from his, through the mirror. you love the way his top hugs his thick muscular shoulders. his broad upper back being so beautifully emphasised, and how his sculpted chest has his nipple piercings teasing through his top. you salivate at his slim waist. ugh he's such a slut. you love the way his body is perfectly decorated in his art, marking his skin; and adorning his arms, and his neck, which is wrapped with a chain, you remember gifting him.

when he reaches you, he has to crouch down, flexing his strong thighs and calves hidden under his baggy bottoms, but you still have to look up at him to maintain eye contact, which he demands with his own. suguru holds the bottom of your thigh just under where the tattoo ends.

"how does it feel?" he whispers into your ear, his sharp gaze still honed on you

you whimper faintly because of the dull sting and ache from the tat

"a little sore sug, but it feels good, i really like it." you say softly while you lean into him, wanting to be wrapped in his body, his warmth.

he smiles at your admission "that's good yn, i'm going to wrap it up now, don't want it getting infected." you love the way he says your name, the way he purrs, your name rolls off his tongue so tenderly.

as he wraps the tattoo you wince, he immediately soothes you, "i've got you baby, it's okay." your body relaxes in response. your eyes never leave each other. as the tension shifts you feel enthralled, wanting him to touch you all over.

"yn, do you want me to play with you?" suguru asks, having that condescending tone that never failed to make you falter. you almost shy away, but he holds your face, bringing his hand up under your chin, his fingers grip your cheeks slightly, making you look directly at him “i want to play with you, i want to help you forgive me baby...” he whispers into your ear. your breath becoming more uneven and flustered from his proximity, that you can practically taste his aroma, how he mixes his scents of minty, smoky notes and cinnamon, woody undertones - it intoxicates you.

“…do you want me to?”

geto waits for your response, not daring to touch you the way he wants, without knowing you’re aching for it. and you want nothing more than that, for him to take care of you how he once did, oh how you wanted to see if he still remembered how to make you cum so blissfully. you nod giving out a soft “please”.

suguru kisses the side of your head, sprinkling kisses down your face making you giggle and fawn, till he reaches your neck and you lose your breath. geto finds the sensitive parts on your neck, making you feel so tingly, it's almost ticklish. you almost forgot how much you loved when suguru kissed and licked across your neck, how he would bite and suckle, leaving you all marked up just how he liked. god he’d go fucking crazy for it too. to hear you whine and pant below him as he licked and sucked. it sent tingles all over your body, straight to your clit. you shuddered under him, leaning onto him- to give him better access to mark you. slowly he grips your hips grinding his bulge into you, he even bends you forward a little so that you can feel him, how hard he is for you- humping into you over your clothed body.

geto held you at an angle arched while both of you stood in front of the mirror so that he could have you grind right back onto his dick that was growing so achingly hard for you. the way he moved your bodies together was so disgustingly sensual, you had to look away moaning as you felt his clothed dick thrust into you, giving you that sensation you so craved. you were whining, you felt so depraved like you hadn’t been touched like this in so long- you just wanted him to rip you the fuck open.

“mmm nah baby look at yourself in the mirror…” he demanded, to which you stubbornly ignored, forcing suguru to grab your face so that you could look at how pathetically you had come undone for him, just from his dry humping. “… i said fucking look at yourself, mmm? you lost your manners baby?” he teases knowing exactly how to fix your attitude. he ends his command by giving your thigh (without the tattoo) a firm slap, making you cry out, you quickly try stifling it, remembering you’re still in his fucking workspace.

“you’re so mean” you whine and pout up at him, which makes him chuckle at you, his smirk unfurling so lewdly.

“i’m going to make it up to you mmm? you’ll let me make you feel good baby? gotta apologise for making my baby upset.” the way he talks to you feigning that concern, his fucking tone, makes you feel weak, and pliant for him. as you move your legs a little wider, and let go of your tied bikini bottoms so they hang down barely concealing a thing. geto watches how strings of your arousal are built up, clinging onto your pretty bottoms. showing him just how wet you are for him and you push your butt into him even more, nodding your head in invitation for him to remedy all the mess he’s made.

as suguru brings his rose-covered hand down to your aching pussy ready to soothe it. once he touches her, feeling your glistening folds, he hisses as his eyes glaze over, and lower so seductively. you see the way his hand flexes and his veins protrude. his long, adept fingers dip further, caressing and rubbing against your hard little clit. he can feel it pulse for him, making you whine as suguru increases the pressure of his fingers on your clit. circling around your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers collect the slick past your lips, down to your spasming, weeping hole, and brings them back to your needy nub.

his tight circles, pet your pretty clit so well, turning you into a mewling mess, you can’t help but move against and around his fingers, acting so bratty- but suguru couldn't give a shit, he'll mould you right where he needs you again holding you by your neck and continuing his strokes on that clit regardless of how you whine.

"sug- aaa-" such a petulant whine leaves your supple lips, begging for him to go further into your leaking hole, you needed him to be inside you, having your pussy drool on his pretty, tatted fingers.

"i know baby, you need it don't you? you need me to fuck you open mmm?" suguru whispers in your ear, kissing the outside of your earlobe so delicately, while saying such filthy things. you look at him through the mirror nodding your head so pathetically, and why would he deny you, his baby? nah never...

suguru brings his finger back down to your desperate hole. he eases around your pussy going around the edges of her, only dipping the tip of his finger. you can't take his teasing-

"sugu! stop teasin-" suguru immediately interrupts, plunging his fingers into you, making you gasp. he slipped into your soppy pussy giving off that mind-numbing squelching sound, having your pussy suck his fingers in so snuggly, has you moaning wantonly. the way suguru’s digits fill you, he’s able to add a finger, scissoring two fingers into your weeping cunt, the way he pushes in and curls his fingers to rub against your plush walls it has you mewling. as you feel him find and rub against that spot, that perfect spongey spot so easily, your eyes roll back. suguru was losing his mind, he rasped a soft moan right into your ear, he loved watching you buck on his fingers, the way you moaned and struggled to take him, it made him itch and drool to have you.

his fingers in your pussy stroking and pumping into your soft, wet pussy. his hand around your neck holding your face up to keep your eyes on everything he was doing. his deep, velvety voice right by your ear, whispering, and moaning sweet nothings. you were losing your fucking mind, you almost couldn't handle it.

"aaa- nngg, sug- sug!," you moaned shamelessly "f-ohfuck i can't-"

"sshh baby, tf you think you're doing mmm, whining like that in my office?" suguru whispers chastising you. your eyes look up at him, and the way you looked so doe-eyed, so pathetic- barely able to hold in your moans, gripped him.

"you struggling to take it for me baby, want me stop?" geto taunts, but you instantly shake your head needing him all over you.

“no please don’t stop sug”

"you can take what i give you princess?"

"i need you uhahh" you wanted him to have you however he pleased.

the way he moves has you humping and panting, you wine on him trying to get some friction against your slutty little cunt.

your moans grow louder and the pitch of your whines grow higher- you suck on your pretty fingers to try and get yourself quiet, your eyes glazing over as you watch suguru fuck you so good with his fingers and his hard bulge pushing up into you. the way he licks and bites all over your neck leaving a trail of his marks. suguru still never averts his dark eyes from yours. the purple glints in his eyes kind of sparkle in your head. all of it is bringing you right to the edge. your eyes roll back, your thighs shake, your knees buckle from the pleasure. so pliant and easy for him to manoeuvre you so he can hold you up and fuck you in just the right angles he needs, that he demands.

“fuckfuckfuc- aahh ohhhh sugie. daddy oh mmynghh” you whine and cry, your head lolling onto his shoulder.

right on the precipice of your orgasm, suguru watches how you get so close to cumming, he’s fucking salivating seeing how you become so undone, how you’ve gone fucking dumb on just his fingers, he can’t help but moan and groan right with you.

“mmm mmfuck, mine. mine.” he purrs, licking all up on you

but all too soon, it comes to a halt, and your orgasm gets snatched away from you. suguru wickedly decides to take his fingers out of you. you almost cry

“wha- no suguru fuck no don’t stop, mmmmnoo” you whine so pathetically gripping his arm, it’s fucking laughable trying to keep his fingers right where you needed them, gripping his sculpted arms so hard. your hands… the size difference makes him smile. no not smile, he’s fucking smirking. that little shit.

“fuck you, SUG HMPH!” you practically stomp your feet, pushing him away as you’re about to walk away, but of course suguru grips you against him, pulling you back so close, you are still as stubborn as ever refusing to look at him, while you’re face to face, which makes him snicker. he isn’t having any of that bullshit tho, he grabs your chin and cheeks squeezing as a warning. he pulls your face up to him again and kisses you on your forehead, the side of your head, and your cheek, and then he ghosts his plump, nude lips over your lips.

“if i decide you don’t get to cum on my fingers, you won’t. i don’t fucking care how close you are.” suguru states, locking his eyes with yours so intensely, while his lips and breath feel so close to your own, you almost feel faint. you want nothing more than for him to just kiss you, you want to feel his lips again, oh how you miss how soft they were, how you loved the taste of his mouth, the taste of the mint with his own unique feel.

suguru’s eyes flutter down to look at your lips so lushly plump and glossed he can’t help but lick his lips. he wants nothing more than to mess up your brown and pink lip combo. to bite, suck and lick all over you.

“tell me you understand.”

“i understand daddy, m’sorry i threw a tantrum, i just wanted to cum on your fingers so bad-”

suguru smiles feeling fucking delighted from your admission

“-can you please kiss me, i promise i’ll behave sugie” you whisper almost whining at the end, you rub your thighs together feeling how you made such a mess for him, as your slick trickles down your thighs.

suguru feeling so pleased with you, groans into your mouth, once your lips touch. he almost forgot how much he missed this. how much he missed you, your lips, those soft lips that melted against his. he loved the way you gasped and whined from your slow kiss, so sensual and intimate. but he knew you were such an impatient brat, his impatient princess.

demanding more, you lace your hands into his hair. you adored his long, luscious hair so much, (that you remember countless times joking about shaving it off at night and turning it into a wig. those playful moments would always have you both bickering and laughing together. it makes your heart swell remembering this).

you begged for more by stroking and tugging at the nape of his hair, making his body tingle, as suguru moaned into your kiss. he licked on your lips to get you to open up for him. he loves the way you whine and moan from frustration and neediness while running your fingers through his hair, it made him lose his fucking mind, so, of course, he had to express that by nipping at your bottom lip. his bite made you whimper and grind up against him but it wasn’t enough. you needed more. you wanted more. but suguru leads the kiss to hold that slow, deep and sensual pace, having your tongues dance together, lick against each other unhurried. which was mind-blowing but also so frustrating you wanted to just devour him, you couldn't get enough.

you moaned into his mouth as suguru sucked on your bottom lip, and then went back to your tongue, licking against each other. he spat in your mouth briefly separating your mouths from one another, and immediately resuming the kiss. at this, you snapped. whining wantonly, you gripped onto him and stubbornly clambered onto him so your legs wrapped around his waist. suguru was easily able to carry you. you were determined to make him fuck you.

“daddy” you whisper, opening your eyes to pout up at him.

“yes baby?” suguru answers, giving little kisses along your chin down to your neck. sucking onto your sensitive neck areas, he knew just the right spots to make you lose your fucking mind.

“i want you to fuck me…” you say grinding down onto the bulge you could feel through his sweats. you were sure you could feel a wet spot on them, but you weren’t quite sure of the culprit, as your wet pussy dragged and humped on his dick print leaking with pre-cum. you could feel his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you, pumping you full of his cum. suguru hissed from the feeling of your mess teasing his aching cock.

“… please baby, please fuck me again, i said i’d be good” you whined, moving closer to his ears so only he could hear how desperate you were for him. suguru moans, his voice breaks and rasps a little from you grinding on him and circling over his dick.

suguru fucking snaps, he closes his eyes while his mouth slightly hangs open, just taking in how your hips wined on him while he carried you.

he then cupped your face to him, “you’re such a fucking brat.” he moans, holding your face and caressing your throat, he watches how your breathing picks up, as you get so flustered. he brings you close, kissing you on your forearm, bringing his hand around your neck. then he carries you to his tattoo bed.

“i am not going to fuck you yn-.”

“-but su!” you begin to whine interrupting him

“be quiet.” suguru reprimands, gripping your neck just a little tighter after placing you to sit on the edge of the seat “i’m not gonna fuck you on my dick. when i have you like that, it’s gonna be on my bed, where i can have you screaming on it without any fucking interruptions. do whatever the fuck i wanna do without you getting all shy on me tryna muffle those pretty moans from me mmm, you understand baby?”

“yeah daddy” you answer feeling so giddy and light with him

“there’s my princess,” he smirks, “you’re really that fucking needy, want my dick here, right where my colleagues are downstairs mmm?” he says before kissing you again. “good girl” he praises while lifting off your dress and quickly bringing his lips back onto yours. slowly he brings you to lay back. he gets in between your thighs lifting one up over his shoulder while letting your tatted thigh rest over the edge of the bed. from this angle he could see your pretty glistening pussy, clenching around nothing.

“lay back baby.” he instructs, he sees how you wait in anticipation for him laying back on the bed.

he crouches down, kneeling in front of your exposed pussy, your slick brown lips he’s completely hypnotised by, they glisten from your wetness. you grow a little shy, you weren’t prepared to be eaten out today (૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა). you bring down your hands to try and cover her up, feeling a little embarrassed.

suguru immediately dismissing your nonsense, and swats your hand away bringing them to instead hold your plush thighs “don’t piss me off today yn, it’s fucking mine.” you almost squeal in response to suguru, he gets so intense sometimes.

suguru is completely enchanted by your scent, the way your hole quivers and weeps for him he has to have a taste. keeping his eyes on you suguru takes the time to separate your folds with his fingers, he licks your swollen nub revelling in the way you gasp and twitch from the sensation, you feel so sensitive from the way his fingers had you shacking.

he then delves in, lapping and sucking on your bud making you writhe and moan from pleasure. the movement of his tongue has such an effect on your pussy, it's marvelling. he takes his time, really getting you sensitive, flattening his tongue on your clit and then straightening it to add pressure, circling perfectly around your bundle of nerves, it makes you gasp and arch your back so prettily

“fuck! sug-daddy aaaahhh” you release a raspy cry, gripping his hair and pulling him into you to, so you can grind on his face, which makes him moan into you, muffling a-

“fuck baby” into your wet pussy, he has to hold your hips down as you begin moving around too much for him to control, so he holds your thigh and places his other arm on your hip, pushing you down, so you stay fucking still for him to play with you properly. suguru brings his tongue down to your leaking hole, thrusting his pointed tongue into your pussy making you mewl and cover your mouth to stop yourself from squealing.

the way you’re panting and moaning, suguru can tell you're going dumb for him, aching to cum all over him. he takes his mouth off of you as your moans get higher. you whine from the absence of his tongue on your needy pussy but he makes up for it by spitting on her, letting his spit slide onto your sensitive cunt. the way his spit glistens and slides down your pussy, he pushes it back into your hole, thrusting his fingers and spit back into you. you react by clutching your thighs together from the sensitivity which makes suguru look at you sharply.

“open.”

you whine, separating your thighs, so he can dip his head back down onto your clit which makes you shudder, bucking your hips into his face. he continues thrusting his fingers into you while his tongue plays and toys with your sore little clit. you can feel everything, it's all so much, your eyes roll back as your mouth hangs open letting out a broken moan while you tug at suguru’s hair.

the way his fingers scissor your folds open, cunt drooling and sucking him in greedily, while he laps and lightly nips on your clit letting his spit drool on you, just for him to suck on your juices. he eats so sloppily it has your eyes watering.

“s’good sug—so fuckin’ good,” hips grinding into the movement of his lengthy fingers, chasing that ecstasy knotting in the pits of your stomach, you’re so close you start seeing white, suguru knows you’re about to cum from the way your fingers tangle and tug at his hair, struggling to either push him closer or away from you. his dark piercing gaze never leaves your face.

“daddy m’gonna cum! shit hah aa sug please lemme cum oh please” you sob, which makes suguru groan into your pussy. feeling the way your hole clenches around his fingers, leaking out so much wetness. the way your hard clit throbs for him, your juices covering, adorning his beautiful face, he looks so pussy drunk. the only thing on his mind is making you cum all over him.

“mmm baby, you gonna cum for me.. that’s my good fucking girl” he says pumping his fingers into you while moving his other hand to circle your clit in tight circles, so he can talk you through your orgasm.

“oh fuck daddy! oh my godnngh” your hands immediately grip suguru’s hands as you squeal and moan wantonly. your body arches and bucks as you dig your nails into him leaving little crescents on his skin. your vision dots, as your body tenses, lips parting into a silent scream as your release flies through you, wetting the tattoo bed. suguru watches your cream flow beneath you, all over his mouth. he pushes your juices back into your leaking hole, drooling at the way your hole squelches.

“there’s my good girl, oh you did so good baby mmmm” he praises lapping at your excess juices spilling down, you’re so fucking sensitive it hurts

“sug-ahh it hurts, fuckk” you whine, purring up at him as you watch suguru’s desire envelop you, you can tell he’s not done with you, but you doubt you could even take anymore.

suguru slithers up to you, kissing and licking up your boobs, making you squirm. when he reaches you he holds your face so gently, mere inches away from you.

“you forgive me baby?” suguru whispers gently stroking his nose against yours, almost purring against you like a cat “mmmm?” he purrs stroking the side of your face and caressing your limp exhausted body. you feel so warm against him, so lewd and yet so protected.

“i forgive you, you’re such an asshole” you giggle feeling a little shy again, only suguru was able to make you shy, and flush so easily. suguru whispers back a thank you and captures your lips into a searing kiss, melting you both together so passionately. you clutch onto the nape of his neck and run your fingers through his hair, earning you a moan, as suguru’s tongue dances with yours sensually. he grips your hips, pulling you against him. you can feel his bulge pulsing for you-

“suguru, aye we’re back! and u’ve got another appointment waiting!” you both hear from downstairs at the reception, shoko calling out to suguru followed by gojo following suit making a ruckus, throwing a tantrum about his arm

“dudeee, where tf r u? i coulda died!” gojo shouts out. you can hear him coming up the stairs to suguru’s office

“mmm fuck suguru, they’re coming up” you gasp up to suguru who still refuses to take notice of them. he smirks, choosing to still feel all up on you

“mmmm don’t care c’mere” suguru states, you roll your eyes

“suguruuu c’mon” you smirk, pushing against him

“ugghh for fucksake” suguru huffs moving off of you, taking your hand and pulling you up to him making you yelp with excitement. you both come to your senses though when you hear gojo’s footsteps up the stairs getting close, both of you scrambling to put your dress back on and get you both presentable.

suguru then holds your chin, so you both look at each other

“what?” you nervously laugh at his intense look

“let me take you out yn? i’ve missed you so much baby” suguru pleads while stroking the side of your cheek with his thumb

“mmmm i dunno sug, dependdss on where you’re gonna take me” you smirk up at him

“let me worry about that baby, i wanna treat you, try and make it up to you” suguru implores and then kisses your forehead just as gojo barges in-

“sUgUruUuu!!”

♡ ༺｡° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° ｡༻

224 notes · View notes