There stands a little scout dressed in uniform, no older than ten, stubborn spikes of pink hair sticking out from underneath his troop's hat, scarf with pins, shorts and shirt to match, beginning to carefully recite his lines from a small handbook he's holding with shaky hands.

"Good afternoon, Mister..."

He does a quick look at the mailbox to remember the older gentleman's last name.

"...Nanami-san! My name is Yuji Itadori. I am a jujutsu explorer from troop 64. Are you in need of any assistance today, sir?" Yuji looks up, flashing a toothy cheesy customer service smile his mother helped him practice in the mirror.

A painful silence follows.

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, um..." Yuji tries not to panic, referring back to his handbook he knows could never fail him.

"Good afternoon, Nanami-san, my name is Yuji Itadori. I am a jujutsu explorer from Troop 64..."

"Right, you just said that-"

"...Are you in need of any assistance today, sir?" Yuji looks up, again, hoping somehow the second time is the charm.

"No, thank you."

"Well, I could..." Yuji looks around desperately at his surroundings, trying to find something to work with.

"Help you with your yard?" Yuji gestures enthusiastically at the already immaculately trimmed garden.

"No."

"I could...help you wash the dishes?"

"No."

"I could...help you cross the street?"

"I don't take my evening walk until about 5:30-"

"Perfect!! I'll be there! You can count on me, Mister Nanami-san! I won't let you down!" Yuji yells with renewed confidence, already halfway down the block before Kento can even get in a word of protest.

----

5:30 arrives, and, true to his word, the little scout is already waiting on his front porch, drenched in sweat.

"Hi, Nanami-san! I know you said 5:30 but I was worried I would miss the train so I got here at 4:30 and just sat on your porch until it was time to go, I hope you don't mind!"

"Oh, for the love..."

A glass of lemonade and a half hour in the air conditioning later, Mr. Nanami and Yuji are strolling side by side down the sidewalk and across the street as promised.

Yuji's yammering away about his 'best friend Megumi and the science fair at school, and how they serve pizza every Friday at school only my mom told me I'm not allowed to eat pizza anymore because it upsets my stomach. You know, you remind me of my grandpa, only, he's in a fancy jar on our fireplace right now. Hey! he had white hair just like you! Only he was way meaner and wayy skinnier and he wore diapers 'cause he never got out of bed and he...'

Kento's lip turns upwards ever so slightly to himself as his hearing aids adjust to the soothing sound of nothing, putting one foot in front of the other as his cane tapped the sidewalk.

"Hey, slow down, Nanami-san!" Yuji looks around, worried as though people are judging him for failing his mission to earn his assisting the elderly pin, a bit surprised by Kento's unexpected spryness and ease of crossing the street for his age. So, he positions his outstretched hands for stability at a distance as he tries his best to keep up with Kento's pace.

-----

The grocery store is mostly empty, though customers slowly start to spill in as rush hour approaches, Kento and Yuji push a nearly full cart down the quiet aisles.

"Are you shopping for yourself or are you shopping for me?"

"Sorry Nanami-san." Yuji hangs his head as he slowly puts back the snacks he grabbed out of excitement. "These are my favorite."

Kento sighs, unable to hold onto his irritation for too long for a reason he's not fully sure frustrates him or not at this point in time in this mostly unwanted interaction with this oddly amusing little boy.

"Normally, I would agree with you. But my doctor has stated otherwise due to my cholesterol medication."

"Oh, my mom has that too! She loves her alcohol medication."

"I-pardon? No, no, Yuji. I said cholesterol, not alcohol." Kento smooths the pockets of his signature tan suit jacket, tailored over the years to fit the expanse of his belly.

"As a word of caution for the future: it's improper to discuss other people's medical issues without their permission."

"Nanami-san, what is cholesterol?"

"Sigh... If I have time, I will explain it later."

The line at checkout is quite long, when Kento suddenly realizes he forgot his prescription.

"Stay put. I'll be right back."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Yuji begins to sweat when his turn arrives sooner than expected, item after item disappearing from the full cart, suddenly extremely conscientious of his financial situation.

"Excuse me, little boy. How are you going to pay for your stuff?"

"I...uh... uhm, I..."

"There you are. Caught you just in time. Yuji?"

Kento looks down at Yuji who's staring with glossy eyes and a quivering lip, before he bursts into tears as though Kento emerged from ten years at war instead of a long line at the pharmacy.

"NANAMI-SAN!"

Kento hands over a wad of cash, telling the cashier to keep the change as he escorts and comforts a bawling Yuji awkwardly out of the store along with his cart of food.

-----

The sun dips low in the sky, as Yuji and Kento arrive safely back.

"Thank you for your help, Yuji." Kento bows politely as the young boy helps him hoist the remaining bags into his house. "I think that's quite enough for one afternoon."

"Oh, before I go-"

"Give my regards and apologies to your mother for keeping you late."

"Nanami-san?"

"This should be enough change for the ride back."

"Oh, wow thank you, Nanamin!! I mean, Nanami-san. Hey, can I just call you Nanamin?"

"No, you may not. Now, you'd better go quickly if you want to make your train on time. Go straight there and straight home. No detours. Is that clear?"

"Yes, but-"

"Good. Farewell, Itadori-kun."

Slam.

Yuji blinks at the closed door in his face, his momentary disappointment quickly overshadowed with newfound determination to obey Mr. Nanami's orders, slipping the invitation to his troop's award ceremony under the welcome mat instead before scurrying off with a smile on his face and a new friend in his heart, wilderness equipment jingling away into the distance in his little backpack.

"'Sup!"

"Satoru. How am I supposed to enjoy your day off if you come in during business hours anyway?"

"We're here for our checks." Gojo smiles as he adjusts his black sunglasses to the top of his white hair, setting his smoothie down on the counter and slinking past a displeased Kento before disappearing into Wasuke's office.

Suguru, clad in a Hawaiian shirt getup with coordinating flip flops, gives a kind nod to Kento who nods in return, taking a sip of his own smoothie before waving to the back.

"Hi, Yu!"

"SUGURU! My man!"

While Yu shows Suguru his sourdough invention, Wasuke storms in as if the happiness of his employees reached an unacceptable level and somehow pinged him from a distance.

"Thought I told you kids to turn off this racket!" Wasuke wanders around the kitchen for a moment to find the source of the MCR before he locates the iPod touch responsible, cursing as he puts on his reading glasses to find the pause button before he tosses it on the counter, adding another crack in the screen.

"Geto! Gojo! If you're going to disrupt business hours then you better clock in!"

"We were just here to collect our paychecks on time, Itadori-san." Suguru states calmly, bringing Wasuke down a notch.

Wasuke grumbles as he notices Gojo out of the corner of his eye. "No food or drinks allowed in the back!"

He snatches the smoothie out of Gojo's hand before he does a double take at the logo.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's Z-juice, Itadori-san!"

"Z-what?!"

"Z-juice! From the new health fusion restaurant on the boardwalk."

Wasuke inspects the smoothie, fueling his suspicion the longer he stares at it before he turns his attention to the window, allowing Gojo to discreetly steal it back.

"Let me see this for myself! Goddamned hippie establishment, those insufferable little..."

Wasuke takes out a pair of binoculars and curses again before he realizes he needs his reading glasses on first before he takes a peek through the lenses.

Sure enough, across the boardwalk is a sleek, mysterious new restaurant with tinted windows and all black exterior that popped into the vacant suite seemingly overnight, crowned with a green letter Z emblazoned on the front, and an unbelievable line of customers that wrapped around the block and flooded down to the beach.

"Those sick sons of bitches... Nanami! Haibara! Front and center!"

"Yes sir!" Yu zips to Wasuke's side, breadcrumbs and all, puffing out his chest.

Kento sullenly drags himself next to Yu nearly three seconds later and not before Wasuke is already barking out his newest unreasonable (and possibly borderline illegal) requests of the two young men.

"I need you to go over there and investigate. Find out what the deal is behind this disgusting artificial influencer shit they're selling! At any cost! And you two!!"

He narrows his eyes at Geto and Gojo. "Suit up. You're working over time."

"But Itadori-san..."

"Don't Itadori-san me! You can have your lousy paychecks after this overtime. Now get to work!"

Yu turns to Kento, who feels as though his greys will be in before he hits 25. "Dude, Itadori-san is trusting us to save the shop! This is our chance to go all in!"

Weary sigh.

"Are you two deaf? I said get moving! And don't come back til you figure it out!!"

-----

The line to Z's somehow grew another 10 feet since the time that Wasuke caught wind of the new business and sent Kento and Yu out into the summer heat.

3OH!3 blares from a DJ booth in front of the restaurant where customers and employees alike seem to be having a mini rave, shooting t shirts, spraying water, and prizes into the crowd, people updating their Facebook and Myspace pages, texting their friends, buzzing about the new hot spot on the boardwalk.

But unfortunately for Yu and Kento, the party is far out of reach, and the line now extends down, off the boardwalk and to the middle of the beach, landing Yu and Kento far from the shade and fun and directly in the sun, next to a large group volleyball tournament a few feet away.

"Isn't this neat?" Yu gushes in amazement, now changed out of his work uniform and sporting a white tank top, shark tooth necklace, and quicksilver board shorts, baseball cap sideways.

The sun blazes overhead. Kento tugs at his oversized band tee with The Used logo, wondering for all that is good and holy, why in the world he chose to wear black today of all days.

He looks longingly at all the beach goers cooling off in the ocean without any cares of these pointless restaurant wars and undercover missions in the world as their time in line dragged on and on while Yu yapped about the newest season of The Office and the highly anticipated first night of the Warped Tour concert that evening.

"We could not have come at a worse time."

"Ahhh cheer up, Kento-kun!" Yu elbows Kento in the side, already as red as a lobster from being out in the sun. "Look! We're almost to the front! They're coming by with free coupons!"

Kento looks to where Yu is pointing and squints, before his heart drops to his stomach.

"Yu, that's..."

"What?"

"Quickly, look away before he-"

"Afternoon, dudes." Ranta flashes two punch cards in front of them, apparently not recognizing either of them from the fiasco yesterday. "You want free shit or not?" Ranta waves the cards impatiently in their faces.

"Oh hell yeah! Hey, thanks man!" Yu completely disregards Kento's warning, who relaxes his shoulders a bit.

"Morons." Ranta mutters as he walks away, before quickly using his reflection in the nearby Hollister window to make sure the gel was still holding the spikes in his hair before he approaches a group of girls.

"That was too close." Kento mutters, shaking his head at Yu who's beginning to jam out to some LMFAO that the DJ is playing next.

—-

This summer job is not nearly as cool as you were led to believe. Between all these back to back customers, the walk in freezer offers a moment of cool relief from all the commotion and endless promotions and deals and tag lines you were forced to remember and sell not 6 hours earlier.

You lean against the shelves, fiddling with the stack of friendship bracelets on your left wrist, making sure they're in the correct order again, squatting down on the floor and doodling on your checkered Vans with a sharpie.

Heart, peace sign, star. Heart, peace sign, star, let's draw an alien right here...

"Yo, the hell ya doin?"

You look up tiredly into the face of your new boss for the summer and longtime childhood aquaintance.

"All these t-shirts ain't gonna sell themselves. Seriously, get yer ass up."

You roll your eyes, snatching your elbow away when Naoya forces you to your feet.

"I was literally gone for like five minutes, Naoya."

"Bullshit. Ya gotta lot of nerve lyin to me like that." He narrows his eyes as you assume your post near the register and plaster on a stunning fake smile where several members of the Hei are assisting customers, assembling their protein bowls and health wraps, and blending up the infamous best selling Z-juice.

"Thanks so much for coming! Don't forget to like our Facebook page for a chance to win a free 1 year gym membership at Zenin HQ!"

You freeze as you feel Naoya's breath next to your ear.

"Don't make me regret bringin you out here and givin you this opportunity just cause yer old man is friendly with my dad. You got the easiest fuckin' job of anyone here. Stand there an' look pretty and don't mouth off. Don't let me catch ya slackin' off again."

"Yes, Naoya-sama."

He seethes at your sing-song attitude, but doesn't have time to argue before Ranta gets his attention.

"Hello, welcome to-"

The next customer takes your breath away in a way you could not have predicted.

There stands Kento Nanami, red as a beet, in his The Used tee, cargo shorts and Vans, equally surprised by the way the softness of your gaze caught him off guard, with your swimsuit coverup hanging off your shoulders, frayed jean short shorts, a certain calmness about your aura that brings him down to Earth with a faraway feeling that feels like heaven.

"Two Z-juices please!" An oblivious and jovial Yu interrupts next to him, equally as bright red and sunburnt, except for some distinctive tan lines around his eyes where his sunglasses were like a raccoon.

Wait...

At that moment, Naoya looks over, mid-conversation with a member of the Hei, and Kento ducks out of the way.

Naoya scowls as he sees a happy-go-lucky Yu with apparently nobody next to him before he turns away.

"Nevermind, thought I heard somethin'..."

"Are...you guys okay?" You ask, Kento's blush practically blending in with his sunburn as he leans in, as though he's trying to not blow his cover. "Why're you whispering?"

"He cannot know that we're here."

"What do you mean he-"

"Well, well, well..."

Ah shit.

"Look what the cat dragged in, fellas."

The members of the Hei all chuckle in some sort of mindless chorus that puts a pit in Kento's stomach.

"Came to buy a Z-juice?" Naoya leers, putting an arm around you as you tried to stifle a shudder.

Kento folds his arms, grateful his sunburn inadvertently doubled as protection from Naoya knowing his true emotions.

"I would never give you a cent of my money. Besides, I wasn't aware it was you behind this tacky, overhyped operation until just now."

Naoya's smile quickly disappears. "Of course it's me! Who the fuck else would it be?!"

Ranta and a few other lackeys slowly emerge from behind, crossing their arms in an attempt at background intimidation.

"Well, I mean, there's many last names that start with Z! Uh like: Zaitsu, Zama, Ziggy..."

"Yu! You're not helping." Kento hisses, to which Naoya's smirk returns.

"Looks like yer buddy is fresh outta ideas." Naoya tsks, letting go of you and sizing up Kento, tilting his head. "Now why don't ya shut up n' buy a Z-juice? Or am I gonna have to break yer legs in front of everybody on the boardwalk?"

"Naoya, don't-"

"Shut up!!" Naoya shouts, causing you to jump.

Kento's anger propels his body forward before his mind can talk him out of it

"Don't you dare speak to her like that."

Naoya pauses, huffing in a moment of disbelief as he slowly turns to face Kento.

"The fuck you just say to me?"

"I said: do not speak to her like that."

"Ya gonna make me or somethin?" Naoya chuckles, eyes seeming to darken as he leans in even closer across the counter. "She's mine. She works for me. You n' what army's gonna stop me?"

Yu straightens up. "I am."

The Hei erupts into raucous laughter.

You slip around from behind the counter, scooting into the shrinking space between Kento and Yu who's apparently dead set on trying to attempt a two against everyone. "Hey, hey, c'mon..."

"You get back here right now, or yer fired." Naoya turns on you, his tone a deadly warning.

"Bro...you can't fire her...her dad's a clan leader."

"Shut the FUCK UP, Ranta!" Naoya spits, trying in an unsuccessful effort to conceal his empty threat. "Ya think I don't goddamn know that? I wasn't gonna actually fuckin' do it, ya bonehead..."

"I'm just taking my lunch. And I'll escort these two back to where they came from. C'mon."

Kento feels the wound of his ego deepen just a little bit before he puts a hand on Haibara's arm, as the adrenaline stilled and logic slowly entered his brain, muttering in reluctant defeat.

"Just forget it..."

The whole store boos as you join the two young men on their walk of shame out the door and you feel Naoya's furious gaze cut into you long after you're out of view.

----

to be continued...

Inside the well-air conditioned and nearly deserted establishment stands Kento Nanami at the register, long blond bangs he had recently cut are tucked inside the cap of his work visor in some kind of humiliation ritual, he thinks, though in reality, the uniform did quite little to conceal the beauty he possessed, his arms beginning to subtly out bulk the lankiness of adolescence and replace it with lean muscle, growing humbly and handsomely into the approaching chapter of his early twenties, lightly tanned from the fruits of his labor and relaxation in the sun from whenever he wasn't working.

His silky caramel eyes are pensive, thoughts compartmentalizing the list of tasks his boss gave him during the slow period of the day and how much he'd love to be literally anywhere else.

In the back, his sole shift partner, Yu Haibara, is hitting a flow state washing dishes. "In the Air Tonight" by Phil Collins blares inside an empty metal container from a cracked iPod touch.

'The hurt doesn't show, but the pain still grows

It's no stranger to you or me'

Yu pauses amidst the mountains of bubbles, backwards baseball cap on his dark hair, green apron completely soaked, hitting the air drum solo with precision.

"DUHN-DUHN DUHN-DUHN DUHN-DUHN DUHN-DUHN DUHN-DUHN!"

"At least one of us is having fun." Kento mutters to himself.

The summer after high school graduation should have felt more freeing, more of a milestone instead of...this. But, Kento, along with the rest of his classmates, were sent away once again by Yaga to work at Itadori's and earn money over the summer to: "build some character" and "gain some real life experience" outside of jujutsu sorcery.

A complete waste of time for everyone involved, if you asked Kento.

'Cause I'm in too deep, and I'm tryin' to keep

Up above in my head, instead of goin' under

'Cause I'm in too deep, and I'm tryin' to keep

Up above in my head, instead of goin' under

'Stead of goin' under'

The gem on Yu's playlist by Sum 41 to get Kento through these afternoons could be a redeeming quality, however.

"Turn down that racket!"

Wasuke Itadori, the owner, hobbles in through the back door with a scowl on his face as those hopes are temporarily dashed once again.

Wasuke grumbles as he looks around the bakery, wrinkled frown lines permanently twist into increasing irritation when he spots Yu hunched over tying his shoe.

"The bunny runs around the tree... over, then underrr...annnnd done!"

"I ain't paying you to play dress up, boy!"

Kento sighs deeply. So much for trying to have a pleasant afternoon.

"I ain't paying YOU to breathe either, Nanami! Breathe on your own dime."

"You hardly pay us at all."

Wasuke huffs as he bumps Kento to the side, beginning to tally the money in the cash register.

"TCH, you sorcerer kids wouldn't know hard work if it slapped you in the face."

Wasuke scans the small dining area that's completely empty except for a couple who is now hastily beginning to make their exit, thanks to all of the yelling, and a businessman with a barely there mustache who seems unaffected by it all, dialed in to his phone call.

"Would it kill you two to try and make a sale every now n'then?"

Yes. Kento thinks as Wasuke scribbles something down on his notepad before helping himself to some root beer from the soda fountain.

Kento folds his arms, looking over at the businessman who's been a drain on resources all morning.

"Excuse me, sir, the dining room is for paying customers o-"

Shiu doesn't say anything, merely throws some change on the countertop, smoothly refilling the same styrofoam cup with coffee next to the soda fountain, balancing his phone under his chin before sitting back down in his elusive corner and typing madly away on his laptop.

As though fate was eavesdropping, a large group suddenly enters and the shop front is completely overran.

"Alright. I'll see you fools later. No slackin' while I'm gone."

"Itadori-san! You're not staying?" Yu asks, wide-eyed, fastening his apron strings a bit tighter with determination as he takes in the size of the unexpected lunch rush.

"TCH. I've got a life. Errands to run. Somethin you spoiled kids know nothin about with your lax upbringings. Now get back to work!!"

The back door slams behind him on his way out.

Evaporating into thin air never sounded so good than right now when Kento recognizes the group from their coordinating outfits, and the unmistakeably unsettling air about their Axe body spray-riddled presence.

Zenins. They must be the Hei.

The group is loud and boisterous and immediately swarms around the vintage arcade games in the corner that Wasuke spent a fortune on, smashing the buttons as they rev up a game of Street Fighter II and throw their feet on the tables as though the place already belonged to them.

"Tch. Well, well, well..."

Naoya Zenin chuckles as makes his way to the counter, leaning against the cooler with a sneer on his face, sun tan evident on his broad shoulders he subconsciously overflexed, fresh from the gym and post-tanning appointment to get a bite to eat before doing his laundry, his summer progress on full display in a black Good Charlotte muscle tee tank top. (Some people shouldn't be allowed to like certain bands.) Puka shell necklace adorning his neck, the darkened tips of his blonde dyed hair laid somehow perfectly windswept above his handsome, loathable smug expression.

Some things never change.

Kento finds it nearly physically impossible to not roll his eyes, a fact that is luckily unnoticed by the clan's spoiled heir as he examines the sandwich toppings behind the glass.

"...Welcome to Itadori's. What can we get you?"

Naoya doesn't answer and leans back with a wide grin as though he's keeper of a secret neither Kento nor Yu are privy to.

"Yo, guys!" Naoya turns his head, showing off two noticablely new helix cuff earrings in his left lobe.

"What should I get?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Hm." Naoya sticks his tongue in his cheek, sucking his teeth in annoyance before turning back to Kento and Yu, the latter of which is still fixated on the newcomer with a look of curiosity and awe.

"Can we help yo-"

"Yanno, this dump ain't changed one bit since the last time I was here." Naoya lowers his eyelids with phony nostalgia, sharp amber eyes cutting into Kento's, leaning over and idly tracing a finger around a Maneki-Neko figure next to the register.

"There's actually been...many changes." Kento mutters.

"Reallyy?" Yu asks, leaning on his hip.

"Don't-." Kento grits his teeth but it's too late now to close the can of worms.

"The golden days. Some might say, ha." Naoya muses, completely ignoring Kento.

"Whoaa. What was it like?"

"Back then? Back then, this place. Was. Insane. Ya know how the boardwalk fills up every Saturday? Well imagine this: Every. Night. Place was jumpin'. Chicks everywhere. Good ass music. Real good shit instead of the fuckin' garbage they play down at the beach. Could come here an' buy a footlong for just 500 yen instead of—what is it now? 800? TCH." Naoya shakes his head, blowing air out of his lips.

"Dannng."

"Shit was a movie, bro. Ya shoulda been there. Ya shoulda been there."

"That sounds killer, man!" Yu beams, enthusiastically nodding his head as Naoya's scene plays out more vividly in his imagination.

"Would you like to order a sandwich?" Kento huffs loudly, cheeks turning red, visor knocking slightly askew on his head.

"Heyyyy, yanno what? What the hell, for old time's sake." Naoya grins. "Gimme the meat lover's, protein style. No buns."

"We don't do that here. That'll be 800 yen." Kento states flatly, pressing a button on the cash register with a ding.

Naoya pauses, face twisting into a look of confusion, his voice light-hearted, for now.

"Ya took that off the menu? Musta been one of those new changes since Jakob was the manager..."

"It's not. We put bread on our sandwiches here. That will be 800 yen."

"Matter of fact, does he still work here?" Naoya cranes his neck, pretending to peer behind him.

"We've...literally never had a Jakob work here."

"He was the man. I remember: five days a week, every Monday through Friday..."

"Wowww."

"2 pm...."

"Will you please-"

"...I was here." Naoya flashes his laser whitened teeth at a starstruck Yu before Kento cuts in once again.

"I've worked here for three summers. Never saw you once. That'll be 800 yen."

"C'mon..." Naoya squints at Kento's name tag, despite not needing to.

Even the proclaimed prodigy and heir to one of the most infamously prestigious clans in the world of Jujutsu knew damn well who Kento was, along with the holder of the Six Eyes whom his father loved to remind him.

"....Kento? Was it? Can I call ya Kento? Kento-kun. Jus' this one time on the house for me an' my guys, Kento-kun." Naoya nods in the direction of the Hei who are growing increasingly impatient.

"Awh it'd be an honor to-" Yu perks up.

"No."

"Oh, uhhh, yeah, no. Sorry, we actually can't uhm do that. Sorry man." Yu changes his tone and follows after Kento, folding his arms and nodding his head with a tightened jaw as his professionalism turns back on.

Naoya is silent, then he speaks again, face unreadable yet a noticeable bite is dripping from his tone, "Ya know, my old man owns this building yer silly little minimum wage bakery job is in?"

Yu gulps, looking to Naoya, then back to Kento who's not backing down.

"False. This building is owned by Wasuke Itadori and has been since 1973. You might be referring to the boardwalk itself, in which you are also only partially correct." Kento asserts as Naoya purses his lips to disguise the unseen ember flickering into flame behind his mask of a smirk.

"...Your father being on a large list of rich old men who threw a pile of cash at this place just once some 20 odd years ago does not intimidate me like you think it will. Now, are you going to pay for the rest of your group too, or did your father only provide enough allowance for yourself? In that case, I can ring you up separately. That will be 800 yen for your sandwich, Naoya-kun."

"YO! Where the fuck is our food?"

"Shut the hell up, Ranta!" Naoya snarls, a visible vein pulsing in his forehead.

"This place fuckin' blows anyway. Let's go."

The group groans, leaving their chairs only half pushed in, knocking tables out of place as they shuffle pitifully out in a display of hangriness, one or two spitting on the ground and refilling their water bottles with soda before they exit. Naoya turns back to Kento, jaw slack as he runs his tongue over his teeth with one final threat.

"Yer gonna fuckin' regret that, Kento-kun."

Kento just blinks, not knowing the contents of the seemingly empty threat Naoya Zenin just delivered him before they're already gone, leaving the restaurant empty except for Shiu in the corner like it was once before.

----

to be continued...

----

The air now of the master bedroom is honest like the handsewn quilts your bare bodies are cradled in. It's warmer after he forwent his own bed when he realized these countryside days were laid in a sequence like stone steps that delivered him to this place he's slowly realizing could fulfill the peace he always inadvertently denied himself.

Any remaining questions he has, or rather, had about you before he carved and unknowingly left a piece of his soul where the pale blue light hits the gleam of your irises like the mouth of a river to the bed of earth underneath as you lay in his arms, are the ones he doesn't even want to think about or remember how to retrieve, not as long as the grey clouds can keep the slivers of sun that precedes the harshness of the rushing morning at bay, and not as long as your very vitality is slowly imprinting itself to the way it beats next to his.

For years he's been an instrument carrying a secondhand melody whose harmonizing notes are found where he would have least expected.

Rain, he now realizes with a surge of newfound affection at the pattern your hair splays across the pillowcase next to him, feels more like you anyway.

And, as he lies here with you, with the silky strands of his hair still caught between your fingertips, golden amber dripping through a sieve, he's afraid it all might make even more sense in a way that will conflict with the rule of practicality he always abided by.

More sense in a way that he doesn't ever want to imagine stepping outside of right now.

Now that he's tasted the rain.

"Kento?" You whisper to the dark blue shape of him entangled with yours with your chin balanced on his bicep.

"Are you alright?"

He notices the distance between your faces after a moment of what he thought was merely disassociated admiration and he closes it quickly.

"Yes, I'm alright." Kento answers as he releases a long held breath somewhere between that still carries the trace of you.

"Just settling down for a moment."

His good eye looks over you, momentarily forgetting his footing in this new, albeit effortless territory you both just crossed over as your hair falls from his right hand like water between rocks, while the pointer finger of his left brushes the clasp of your necklace.

He certainly can't deny that it's the most wonderful place to be.

"How are you, love?"

"I'm good."

"Yeah? Good."

"Amazing, even."

"I'd have to say the same."

You smile at one another and scoot even closer, nose to nose.

The residual passion flutters to a low simmer from the wildfire that blazed in this room moments earlier that had nowhere else to go but to fill the void of every word that failed you when it came to the kind of declaration Kento Nanami deserved.

Honey permeates with muted hints of your perfume, lush orchid amber and oceanic sandalwood of his cologne both of you had applied earlier in the evening when you were still inhabiting separate rooms in equal denial of the inevitable crossroads that a force stronger than gravity had set into perfect motion ever since your gaze had locked with his.

You carefully let the tops of your fingertips trace around the bezel of his watch on his scarred left wrist, taking care not to leave any prints on the glass. The heel of your palm tickles his forearm, sending little pulses of warmth through him each time it does as though his skin forgot what it felt like to brush against yours despite knitting yourselves physically and emotionally closer than you ever have.

You gradually move your hands away from the watch, letting your fingers stroke his wrists while you look at one another. His jaw momentarily tightens.

And suddenly that low simmer is dangerously close to boiling again when you look at him like that.

"Where'd you get this, Kento?" You ask quietly with a hum, eyes fixated curiously on the polished metal, bringing it to your lips, your lovely eyes meeting his as you delicately brush your lips against the bracelet, grazing the small sliver of his skin underneath.

He'd patiently answer your questions about his watch just like this if it means he can prolong this feeling that resembles the realization one gets when they're doing something they should be doing for the rest of their entire life.

Especially if it means he can move even further away from the one that appeals to that stubborn logic that historically tended to deny him of such luxuries.

To deny himself of you...

A world without any rain.

Kento gazes down at your thoughtful actions, mesmerized by the gentleness you've folded into every single movement, opening himself to receive the message you couldn't deliver earlier by words alone, one uttered rainy late night question at a time.

His knot of endearment to you tightens and you seal it with a bow while your thumb tenderly seeks the pressure points in his palm that echo sporadically with the reconstructed nerve endings that terrible night left him some lifetime ago.

The tendency you had to revere details about the things you loved and the wistful way you spoke of them to him over the course of these several days rang so poetically that it left Kento finding himself slowly longing to be one of them.

How he yearns to be worthy of such sacred responsibility that he honors but feels unfit to touch, the furthest waves from the warmest rays from a lighthouse that he's ever seen, unknown to him in this moment that he's tangled in with you, he's more deserving of it in your eyes than he ever once was.

"My watch? I received it from my father as a graduation present, if I remember correctly." Kento watches as you carefully circle the bezel again, that tide of emotions stirring deeply inside of him, this one separate from the calmed passion on a simmer.

This one carries something much more tender, something he might be more fearful of for as deeply as his heart has always allowed him to feel, no one soul has ever occupied that particular place in his world yet.

None quite like this steady shower of rain...

He watches you handle it so gently, as though it's a part of him.

"How old were you?"

"I think I was 23? Maybe 22." His brow furrows for a moment as his mind struggles to switch gears from the obvious distraction of you hanging over him.

He pauses as he concentrates, feeling a slight sense of dismay creep in at the fuzziness of his memory before he speaks.

"I haven't thought about it for a while."

The corner by his eye softens again and he finds himself leaning into the comfort you don't know yet that you offer him in this moment as the things he preferred to keep buried began to resurface, as though he could do the nearly impossible thing of entrusting the task of grounding himself over to studying the grand map of you.

And, since it's his first time doing so, and while the dusky hour stays tethered to the present before the cruel light of morning eventually rips it away, he must complete it with the care you deserve.

Kento's gaze lingers on your fingers and his hands follow shortly to join them, following an invisible trail of constellations of the half-traced stars you left behind as you continue studying his watch.

He lightly strokes the apples of your burning cheeks, whose subtle warmth offer him that introspective into your inner world that endears himself even more to you like a rich mocha settling in his stomach. A taste much more sweet but subtly reminiscent of the far more bitter ones that used to carry him through all those rambling afternoons before 6 pm.

He tucks every observation away with a piece of hair behind your ear that catches your pearl earrings like a well loved item on an oak shelf with a view he can always see but never tell you about, floating down the crest of a wave of affection at the physical tenderness you bestow on him that he had all but retired in his mind with the simple reasoning that it was something he wasn't meant to or desired to experience.

Not while the dangers of the world he came from always followed him. Not while the solemn debt of his duty resounded in his wounded ears that attached to him like an extra limb.

Not while the fear of never doing enough remained the most formidable curse of all.

But the rain can drown it out.

"Are you sure you're alright, Kento?"

"I am."

"You sure?"

"I am." He repeats and smiles, but only with his eye. "You asked me that question once already."

"You have that look on your face that says otherwise." The tip of your finger grazes the point of his chin and he hates to admit how devastating that simple touch was to his outward facade he had been (incorrectly) led to believe was bulletproof all this time.

"...Nothing gets past you, does it?"

"'Fraid not." You go silent, the raindrops fill it, and your foreheads come together.

The curiosity suspended within this moment is lost as it begins to drum steadily with the thoughts rummaging through Kento's mind as he carefully arranges them before he speaks.

"There is nothing that you can do that you don't already by simply being here." He murmurs and he blinks, his eyelashes a flutter away from your cheek.

"And I mean that, sincerely."

"Sincerely, huh?" You mumble back in a tone that you hope is lighthearted enough to disguise the pooling of your emotions gathering in the back of your throat.

Kento never did speak more than he listened. And you'll never know how something like the truth he just uttered was one that he would have wrestled with far more than he would have ever let on, much less if it came from the ghost of who he used to be.

He never found the need to fill silence if it could stand on its own.

But now he wishes he could. Wishes he could find the words for you that he doesn't know are writing themselves into something more permanent than memory in a way that no other person has before.

The words to describe what feels like the sun that ripples through him like the sea while he's standing here in this rain...

"I don't say things that I don't mean. That's not who I am." He says with resolution as his gaze peers earnestly back into yours, catching onto the tail end of emotions stifling the words you didn't say that he senses from you that he wishes he could lock away.

"I'm just scared, Kento..."

"I know. It would be dishonest of me to say that I'm not, either."

He looks down at your tangled fingers. He appreciates you bringing that up even though he knows it scares you just as much to give audible weight to the thoughts you carry.

It's not that you're afraid of forever, you're just afraid to fall into it alone.

It's not that he's afraid of falling into forever with you, it's just that he needs to be prepared to give you every bit of himself on the way down.

But more than anything, he's grateful for that soft voice that races against his own thoughts in the temporary forever of here and now, the one that dares to go against his own pragmatism interwoven with instinct that beckons and threatens him back to the train of old thoughts from his old self that he knows where he cannot stay.

He'd rather focus on the endless inquiries from you and how you can turn a cup of coffee and a messed up bed into a poem.

And he says your first name like the truth.

He says it and it's burned far deeper than sweet nothings uttered into the waning descent of lust.

Rather, it's the etch that begins a new line in the invisible tapestry of memories that engulfs this farmhouse.

One that you could write together.

"It may take...time, but I will say this: If I have any reason to be doubtful, I will tell you."

He swallows. "And right now, I don't."

"I'm glad to hear that. Neither do I. I think you're worth waiting for."

You suddenly feel like where he was always trying to be.

Present. Here.

Vitality that is chosen out of defiance against the constant weight of the demands of endless days not in the act of the standard sustainability of breaths, but the purposeful intake of each one, a choice, fiercely grounded to the devoted tenacity that is renewed in the present with momentary fondness that has reconciled with grief for the past that turns into enduring hope for the future.

One that is getting impossible not to want you in.

One that he does not want to imagine without rain.

Your phrasing is not lost on him either as you speak it into the air that hits him harder than the rushing waves on the coast one hour away.

You were sure of him.

Sure of the parts of him that could become distant with the war against his own stubbornness. But nothing that ever asked him to change.

Yet the inevitable tides of love would have Kento Nanami bend it for you anyway.

Always.

"And thank you for being honest, Kento. I know it's difficult. And your watch is very beautiful." You whisper with a smile and punctuate with a kiss to the inside of his palm.

And suddenly Kento is standing at the precipice of the cliff stretching across the sea of all the things he thinks he could bring himself to do for you.

One that the clarity of day could never bring him. Not the sun and its rays.

The kind that only arrives with the rain.

He groans so softly, slowly feeling his heart being tugged at the fact that even a superficial part of him somehow wasn't exempt from your affection.

How you just...adored pieces simply because they were attached to the greater part of him.

"Do you see your parents often?"

He steps back and considers your question, then answers, "No, I have not been particularly close to them for some time."

A tinge of melancholy can't help but trail his words along with the level of deep thought you were currently treading that he normally never liked to swim.

The reasons for the distance were certainly not one of choice, but rather in the interest of safety due to the dangers that the world of jujutsu brought with it. With distance and time, it wasn't long after that that the emotional drift inevitably followed.

"My father was a good man....rather stern in how he approached things. So it meant quite a lot when he gave it to me."

"What about your mamma, Kento?"

His gaze wanders to you with gentleness radiating from his singular eye that the emptiness from the right never did lose, his heart thrumming hard in his chest.

"You were close with her, huh?"

Kento just smiles, nose brushing yours as his way of confirming the answer to your question.

He notices the corner of your eyes soften in kind.

"I'm close with my momma, too."

There's fondness in your tone, but the kind that echoes with a tinge of sadness at the honesty of reflection behind the underlying weight it carries of the ways your parents, particularly your father, had failed you.

"Sometimes you still grieve what you didn't have, you know?"

Kento inhales as he holds your arm, dragging the tip of his middle finger to the crest of your elbow, gaze lowered solemnly in thought as he recollected that feeling that didn't live too far away in the unseen machinations of his thoughts.

"I do."

"I'm so sorry you don't see yours, Kento..." You whisper, "It's a beautiful story... Thank you for telling me about it."

Your breath hitches as his fingers gently brush your chin guiding your face close to his, kissing you deeply once more.

"No, thank you, sweetheart."

You hum as the kiss breaks, but he pulls you in for a second, lingering longer on the third, taking little moments to drink him in like his breath could sustain you.

Him. Sweet Kento, scarred, a masterpiece who isn't aware that he is one, one so far beyond the testaments of survival embedded into his skin and the extraordinary heart and knowledge he possesses, fearlessly kind and trying to harness the boldness to live in spite of everything he had endured that should give him every reason not to.

Unknown to you both in this moment, already adorned with the fastenings of something that should last forever.

Like this rain.

"Hold me a little longer, Kento?"

"I would love to."

"Kento? Think I'm getting sick..." You announced as you entered the living room, hand over your throat while you balanced your youngest child, baby boy nicknamed Bubba on your hip who's deeply fixated on the claw clip in your hair, before he decides now is a wonderful time to grab a big old handful in his chubby fist.

"OW!"

"Are you sure, love?" Kento asks as Noodle (your third oldest and youngest daughter), abruptly destroys the Lego condo he just spent 20 minutes building for the residents of Little Nanami (The city of Jellybean and Bee's littlest pet shops.)

"How's the construction project going?" Bee(your second oldest), asks from the other side of the room where she's playing with Jellybean. (Your oldest daughter)

"We're experiencing yet another delay." Kento sighs regrettably as Noodle smashes another tower to bits, looking proud of her actions, before he turns his attention back to you.

"I did the swallow test. I'm definitely getting sick, Ken." You state as you stride into the kitchen.

"I'm not certain that taking medication before you're experiencing more symptoms is a wise idea, love."

"I'm just trying to get ahead of the bug." You answer, popping some DayQuil while you dodge Bubba's mischievous fists once again, this time keen on tearing out your shiny pearl earring whose mate had already fallen victim some other time.

"I don't think that's how it works, my dear." Kento replies calmly as he helps Bee and Jellybean check the rabbit family in to their hotel after Noodle's destruction left them temporarily stranded without a home.

"Daddy, Mrs. Rabbit said she specifically requested the VIP suite."

"Hm, the front desk says that suite is already reserved for the pop star, Cheetah, who paid her deposit last October. So, Mrs. Rabbit will need to make do with the arrangements that the construction company already made for her."

"Mrs. Rabbit wants to speak to the manager."

Kento sighs, then turns back to you. "My love, you're much better off drinking water and staying hydrated. In fact, let me get you some right now."

"Kento, I'm fine."

But, he's already back, water full and iced, just how you like.

"Drink up, Mrs. Nanami. Don't give me that look. I even used our most expensive cup."

You chuckle, giving him the softest playful push as he trades you the blue hospital cup with the bendy straw for Bubba before sending you on your way back upstairs.

"I expect all of it to be gone in the next hour while you rest."

---

Now, it was the next morning.

Your Instagram reels were watched, chapter book finished, promise to Kento unfulfilled, water less than halfway gone, ice all melted, and your throat was on fire, sinuses stuffy as you laid in bed, reflecting on all the good times where you could breathe out of both nostrils and not have needles in your throat every time you swallowed, not even 12 hours ago.

In that preemptive, thoughtful way of his that anticipated and saw all of you without taking a breath, Kento immediately got to work, taking over the farmhouse and chores, leading the children in order for you to optimize your rest.

Your trio of chickens chattered impatiently in their coop outside, a little confused but pleased when Kento eventually opened up the doors, letting the hens Petunia, Peaches, and Penelope make their way to Noodle, who is waiting with fresh food.

Jaegar, the rooster, however, is less than pleased when he sees Kento, having had to perform his signature morning crow from the inside of the coop instead of his favored spot on the roof like he was always used to.

"Apologies, Jaegar. Your mother is under the weather today, so Noodle and I will be handling your breakfast."

Jaegar struts down the ladder and out of the coop, fluffing his feathers, looking suspiciously at his food in his dish that Noodle prepared, before he takes a peck and decides it's good enough to meet his standards and begins eating.

Fig the pig couldn't really care less who it is feeding her as long as she gets fed.

The sassy sow comes out of her pen with a bit of attitude in her step.

"Your breakfast being a mere two minutes late this morning does not absolve you of your moral obligation to show basic respect, Fig Newton Nanami." Kento reminds her sternly to which she lets out an annoyed grunt.

"Your mother is sick. Seriously, have you no compassion?"

"OINK."

"Hm. Sounds like that fresh zucchini I was going to give you for lunch will have to wait another day for when you've remembered your manners."

Fig eats more quietly.

"Thank you."

---

Later, Kento decides now would be a good time to attempt to clean the wreckage that the tornado of the four Nanami children left behind that's slowly accumulated over the past few days.

The scarred half of his lips twist into a frown at the shocking number of fruit snack wrappers and fallen crumbs he's discovering from underneath the couch cushions.

"Jellybean, Bee, Noodle. This is the sixth snack wrapper I have pulled from underneath this couch. Has the art of cleaning up after yourselves completely slipped your minds now that momma is sick for one day?"

"But you said we can rest!"

"Rest, yes. Not go completely berserk and turn your home into a trash heap." Kento corrects, turning off the TV. "Now come on. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can resume watching Bluey."

*Groans*

"If we finish before noon I will allow three episodes instead of two."

*the kids gasp and get to work immediately.*

"That's more like it."

-----

The dark evening clouds swell and begin to trickle buckets of nighttime rain.

Kento and the girls decide to make you some soup, along with some tea and cinnamon for your throat, complete with a get well soon card featuring some of Noodle's best artwork. (Scribbles everywhere)

"Perfect."

*pause* ACHOO! "Ahem, good work, everyone." *sniff*

Kento steps back, blowing his nose before washing off his hands in the kitchen.

"Now, in an effort to not overwhelm your mother and disrupt her rest, I will be the one to deliver the tray to her." Kento pauses, balancing the dish in both hands as he shoots the girls a stern look with his good eye uncovered by his eyepatch.

"Please don't do anything foolish while I'm gone, such as getting into the chocolate."

"Okay Daddy, we won't."

Kento nods and disappears around the corner, before calling out, briefly startling the girls.

"I mean it, you three. If I come back and discover that you decided to ignore me anyway, the sugary fallout from your younger siblings will be your responsibility, Jellybean."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good."

Jellybean listens until the measured creaks in the staircase gradually get quiet until they go silent, before sliding a chair quickly next to the cupboard as a stepping stool to get the chocolate down while Noodle and Bee do a diabolical dance of victory.

----

The raindrops are a calming respite, drumming at a rhythmic hum on the shingles of the old roof, keeping you just peaceful enough to ignore the prickle in your throat that's faded over the hours, thanks to your undisturbed rest.

"Darling? The girls made you something." Kento strides into your master bedroom with a loose grin.

He was beautiful on a regular day. But, tonight, with a tray in his hands with food cooked by him, messy homemade card with doodles from the four pieces of your heart, he robbed that word completely of any hope of its meaning being worthy enough to hold all of him in this moment.

"Oh, Kento...thank you..."

"Don't thank me, I- pardon me..." *Sneeze* "Thank our girls."

Kento sets down the tray, helping you rearrange your tissues and phone and book set up so you can comfortably fit it on your lap.

"They'll want to see you, whenever you feel up to it." *Sniff*

"You alright, Kento?"

"Mommy!!"

The door bursts open, and in march in all three Nanami girls, fresh evidence of the forbidden chocolate on their faces that was beginning to work its sugary magic, waking up Bubba from his nap in his bassinet as the cherry on top.

"Oh girls, I missed you so much!"

Kento just sits back and accepts his fate as he's already being pulled and overstimulated in every which way.

"Sigh, I suppose that now our entire family is conveniently gathered in one place, the girls and I can show you Cheetah's summer performance they had practiced all afternoon."

----

Nanami Square Garden is packed to the brim with eager fans, screaming and eagerly awaiting with signs and cheers for the top-selling artist in the entire Pet State area: Cheetah and the sold out concert of the summer.

"Daddy, you're not using your diva popstar voice."

Cough cough cough "Just *cough* *blows nose* ...just give me a moment, please, Bee."

Kento clears his throat as he tries to deliver his lines through tears.

"How are we feelin' tonight, Nanhattan?" His voice cracks and he erupts into a tirade of coughs and sniffles.

But by now, you're more than well enough to take over.

"Let me take it from here, my dearest, sweet Kento."

“Why’d you stop?” You asked curtly as you crossed your legs, raising a brow up at him.

“I’m not gonna kiss you, (L/N).”

You had finally gotten Miguel to show up to do a practice run of the scene, the presentation was happening in the following day, and thankfully you’d both practiced it apart, but the odd tension between you both you still couldn’t desphire wasn’t helping the process go on any easier. Countless pauses and time-outs, you two have been going through the scene over and over, like a broken record that kept falling over into the same scratch devit, skipping, repeating, but never finishing.

“Does it look like I’m jumping at the idea, O’Hara?” You countered as you grabbed the pillow you had placed on his carpeted dorm floor and placed it onto your lap, taking your hair out from your hair clip before reaching to place it on his nightstand, deciding it was too unbearable to lay on any longer before continuing. “We’re not gonna make out with each other in front of the whole class. It’s just a small peck.”

“Oh like how that kiss with Spider-Man was a ‘small peck’.” Miguel was too busy doing air quotes for him to catch the pillow as you threw it at his chest. His eyes rolling at the childish act while you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment at the memory.

It’s not like you regretted it or anything, it was just annoying when he brought it up.

“Okay, whatever. We can fake it-what’s that thing they do in theater?-oh stage kiss. We can do a stage kiss.” You suggested but Miguel's facial expressions clearly show he had no idea what a stage kiss was, making you groan and roll your eyes as if it was common knowledge. “Do you know what that is?”

“No, I’m not a geek unlike you.”

“That’s ironic coming from the science nerd.”

Now it was him rolling his eyes with a scoff.

“Are you going to explain it or not?”

“Okay, okay.” You put your hands up in defense as you shift to sit on your knees, before going to explain. “A stage kiss is basically just a kiss for the stage, but we can make it look like we’re kissing without our lips actually touching.” Miguel raised a brow, a silent ask for you to explain further. “Like, you tilt your head a specific way or you put your thumb on my lips and you kiss your thumb.”

Was Miguel’s next question a risky one? Maybe. Did he want it to be an excuse to get close to you again? Maybe, even if he can’t get the sweet relief of tasting your lips again, he’ll take whatever crumbs you’ll toss his way. Even if he had to pretend he didn’t enjoy it. So with a quick clearing of the throat, he shifted a bit closer, careful to not startle you as he approached you as if you were a wounded animal.

“May I?”

His felt his heart began to pound a little bit faster as he watched confusion cover your face for a split second before you realized what he means, and he thinks for a second you’ll say no with the way you bite your bottom lip ever so subtlety in a way he doesn’t think even you notice, and the way he noted your hand fidgeting with the hem of your shirt despite not breaking eye contact, but eventually you nodded.

“Okay…”

Your voice was soft, meek, gentle, something that it never was towards Miguel. It took all of him to not rush towards you and kiss your lips for real, but he knew better. So with slow movements, silence envelopes the air around you both. It was very faint, the way the atmosphere in the room shifted as he placed his hand on your side of your face. Praying to god that he didn’t feel the way your jaw flexed as you swallowed the lump in your throat as his thumb grazed and stopped in the middle of your lips. His eyes dropped to them for a split second before they were back on you, and finally, they closed as he leaned in. Warm spreads through your body, seeping into the pit of your stomach, as your eyes naturally close as well. Despite his thumb separating you both, you can still feel the phantom presence of his lips on yours. In your head, they tasted like Spider-Man’s.

After a while, you felt him finally pull away, bringing you back down to earth as you blink up at him, if it wasn’t for the dark lightning in his dorm you would have both noticed the fleshing in his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “Like that?”

“Yeah, like that.” You nodded as you tried to play off the whole situation nonchalantly. “Let’s try to go through the whole thing, and when you die on me don’t rest all your weight on me please? You’ll crush me.” You attempted to lighten the mood with a joke as you took the forgotten pillow and placed it back to its original spot. Grateful when you heard him stifle a snort under his breath.

—

He should stop this.

He knows he should.

He’s made a habit out of it now, and habits are hard to break. You’ve even started to keep your widow unlocked for him, how could he resist himself? It’s obvious you wanted him to stop by. So, here he was, outside your window. You having just left his dorm not even a full hour ago, your hair clip and copy of Pride and Prejudice still sitting in his dorm where you left them, forgotten on your way out the door.

He always had this small mental battle with himself as he slipped his finger through the small crack in the window. Knowing how dangerous it was to get you involved with Spider-Man, if he wasn’t careful, it would only lead to danger. Still he couldn’t help but continue to spin his web, entrapping you in it without you none the wiser. He was given the opportunity to become closer to you in a way he couldn’t as himself, and he’d be foolish to not take advantage of it. At least, that's what he told himself to justify his actions when finger finally pulled your window up almost every night.

He didn’t see you at first, and it made his chest tighten in panic, but the feeling quickly died down, once he heard the doorknob to your front door open. He let out a sigh of relief when he realized he had gotten there before you. When you opened the door to your dorm you let out a small startled yelp when met with the familiar red and blue costume, you hand shooting up to your chest to help calm down your shot up heartbeat once you realized the intruder wasn’t a threatening one.

“Jesus… you scared me…” You mumbled as you closed and locked the door behind yourself.

“Sorry about that, I didn't know you were out.” He lied as he shot a glowing web to turn on your overhead light, you not even flinching at the moment, having grown accustomed to it, despite your many pleas to not web up your room for the sake of convenience.

“I told you to stop doing that. You know how long it takes for me to take that off? It always sticks to my hands.” You whined as you went to try and take it off, and Miguel couldn’t help but let out a laugh as it does, in fact, stick to your hands.

“Here I got it…” He murmured as he moved to takes your smaller hand in his, picking at the webbing under the neon red no longer covering your palm, once it was cleaned, he turned it over and placed a small kiss over your knuckles.

“Thanks.” You said with a small smile once you pulled your hand away. “I can’t stay up too late, I have that-“

“That project tomorrow, I know. You’ve been talking about it non-stop.” He interrupted, causing you to laugh. “It’s fine though, I shouldn’t let our little visits cut into so much of my patrol time anyways.” He admitted, a faux hurt expression fell over your features.

“If my company bores you, you can just say so-“ You were silenced by a web covering your mouth, knowing despite his face being covered underneath his mask, he was giving you a playful smirk. You gave him a glare as you attempted to rip them from your lips.

“Shush. You know, for a smart girl, I’d expect you to not say stupid shit like that.” His head tilted slightly, before he walked over and ripped the webbing from your mouth, letting out a small hiss at the sensation as you went to soothe the area with the back of your hand.

“Do me a favor.”

“Hmm?”

“Wear a coat tomorrow, we’re going to take a little trip.” Was all he said before he slipped back through your window, not even letting you respond back to the request, as you stood there in confusion, just staring at the open window.

—

“O happy dagger!” You grabbed the toy retractable knife that was in Miguel’s pocket, raising it in the air with your right hand, while he played dead in front of you. “This is thy sheath:” You were thankful that Ms.Covey had turned on the harsh stage lights, flooding out the rest of your classmates so it gave the illusion of empty seats, although they couldn’t distract you from the occasional scribble of a pen on paper from your teacher in the otherwise quiet room. You bring the toy knife down and press the fake blade against your abdominal, faking a grunt of pain as you slowly push it till it sat flesh against you, before putting it back away from you. “There rust, and let me die.” You finally finish and you succumb to your faux wound, collapsing onto Miguel's torso.

After a beat, applause spreads through the air, making you release an unknown breath that you were holding in your rest and you finally getting off of Miguel, both of finally standing up as the stage lights dimmed slightly enough to reveal your teacher.

“Good job you too, nothing but the best as always-“ Her praise was interrupted when the bell rang, signaling that class was over, causing all the students to fill out and off to elsewhere. You quickly go to grab your book bag from the wing of the stage, a big grin on your face as you weave through the crowd, feeling accomplished as you try to catch up to your rival to congratulate him.

“Hey! O’Hara!” You smiled brightly as you caught up to him, ignoring the side eye he gave, too focused on the project you both nailed. “We did so well! I was surprised that-“

“Oh my god why are you still pestering me?” He hissed, turning to glared daggers at you that made you falter. “All you do is pester me!” You took a step away from him before even registering the movement in your head properly. He looked so pissed off, it was a bit unnerving, you had done a lot worse to make him upset and he’d only ever give you back a sarcastic comment or something along the lines of friendly fire. How did doing well in a project together be the thing to set him off?

“Sorry-sorry, I just wanted to say that I’m glad we-“ You didn’t get to finish before being interrupted again.

“Can you just shut up.” You were glad that the once full courtyard was now barren, reduced to only you and Miguel. You didn’t need prying eyes on you to worsen the humidity of Miguel ripping you a new one for seemingly no reason. You weren’t sure if it was the lighting from the sun or your brain short circuiting from confused and slight fear but you swore Miguel’s brown maroon eyes looked almost as if they were growing a more pure red color.

“I’m-I’m sorry...” Your words fell on deaf ears as your face once again with Miguel’s back, watching him walk away.

He always walks away.

“What’s your problem with me? I understand we’ve never really gotten along with each other but you're acting like you hate me.” The pit in your stomach disappears once it was swallowed up with the anger that started to seep into you, taking a few steps towards him.

“Because I do hate you (Y/N).”

I’m in love with you (Y/N).

“I hate the way you’re always around.”

I love the way I know you’ll always be near.

“I hate how you always try to one up me in class.”

I love how you challenge me, I haven’t been challenged in a long time.

“I hate the way you quote your stupid poems and books you always read.”

I love the way you’ve changed my perspective on the world.

“I hate you.”

I love you.

“Your voice.”

Your voice.

“Your laugh.”

Your laugh.

“I hate everything about you.”

I love everything about you.

You couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t let him see the way your eyes started to sting with your forming tears, so you walked away.

—

He didn’t know why he couldn’t shut himself up. Why he kept spewing false garbage from his mouth, he couldn’t handle it anymore. The lies, the confusing feelings, the late night visits. It’s all too much, he couldn’t get himself to leave you alone. He needed to push you away, as far away as he possibly could. That includes Spider-Man.

But…

He knew he wouldn’t be able too, and that’s why the second the sunset turned the sky from its usual blue to orange and yellow hues, he found himself outside of your window, pulling up your window before he felt the guilt from his words earlier swallow him whole.

“Your favorite spider is here-“ But unfortunately, the guilt ate him up anyways when his eyes immediately fell on your figure, curled up in a ball with your face stuffed into that fox plushie of yours, small whimpers leaving your slight shaking form. “Hey…Hey… what’s wrong?” He didn’t need to ask, he already knew what was wrong, and you didn’t answer, didn’t even look up as you shook your head, opting to bury it deeper into white tummy of the stuffed animal, it surely damp with your tears.

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” You croaked with a sniffle, and Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he carefully approached your bed, taking a seat at the edge where your legs were curled up, and began to rub soothing circles into your back.

“We won’t talk about it then…” Miguel was afraid if you did, mostly because he wouldn’t know how to react. Taking a beat of silence before bringing his hand up to your chin, and lifted it gently for you to face him. You retaliated with a small whine before moving to hide your face once more.

“No, I don’t want you to see me like this, my-my face is are all red and puffy, my mascara is all fucked up, and-“

“Hey,” His hand goes to your chin to turn it towards him once more, but this time you didn’t move it away, although your eyes didn’t meet his, “look at me.” After a moment you did. “You are the most beautiful…” You looked away with a giggle, his hand he was holding you with turned your head towards him again as his gloved thumb came up to wipe away a lingering tear. “beautiful…” he repeated, “amazing… most intelligent and wonderful women I've met.”

“Thank you…”

“Of course, now get up.” He said as he stood up from the bed, grabbing the fox from your arms and placing it where he was just at on the bed, chucking a bit when he noticed the confusion on your face. “What? Don’t tell me you forgot about your surprise, did you?”

“My surprise?” He nodded with a hum as you slowly sat up, and went to place on your shoes.

“Yes ma’am, put a coat on we’re gonna be swinging there.”

—

“Dontdropmedontdropmedropme-“

“I’m not gonna drop you.” He laughed.

“I’m never gonna get used to swinging!”

“Well you better try!”

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not yet… gonna place you down first…”

You had no idea where he was bringing you too, the only clues you had were the noise of Nueva York that surrounded you, which wasn’t much help. You let out a sigh of relief when he placed your feet down onto a solid surface, most likely a rooftop.

“Are you dizzy?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, yes just let me open my eyes please.” You laughed as you reached out towards the sound of his voice and hit the air around him as a signal to hurry.

“Alright, open up.” You smiled as you did so, and once your eyes focused on the view in front of you, you let out a gasp.

“You did not…”

“I did, do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. Thank you, thank you thank you!” You quickly pulled him into an embrace, one of his hands went to the small of your back as the other brought his mask up to his nose, before pulling you into a kiss.

In the distance, in front of the orange and yellow hues that illuminated the sky, was the Brooklyn bridge. Sprawled across the cables were three words written in red webbing.

He wore that sparkle that day when he ordered a black coffee and a lemon muffin, and the next day when he ordered a black coffee and a blueberry muffin. He wore it everyday for the three months that he came in, working his way through your menu and learning a little bit more about you with each order. 

You learned that he was a teacher at the high school, and your coffee specifically was the only thing to get him through his day. He learned that opening your own bakery was your dream, and he remembered watching your own eyes sparkle when you told him about it.

And tonight was no different. That permanent twinkle in his eye that has been prevalent since the day you met him was glistening like no other when he’d told you about the plans he’d prepared for the two of you tonight. 

“Enzo’s? Really?” You spoke through a smile as you leant into the shower, turning on the hot water. When you pulled back to look over at Steve who was perched happily on the closed lid on the toilet, his smile was bright and infectious as he nodded.

“Of course, honey. It's been one month since I tricked you into marrying me, it’s means for celebration.” He spoke as if it was obvious, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his choice of words as you began untying your robe. 

Every time you undressed in front of Steve, it was like he was seeing you for the first time. His eyes wandered across every inch of skin as the robe fell from your shoulders to the floor, a small whistle passing his lips earning a small roll of your eyes. 

“Alright, if I sit here any longer I’m gonna get distracted,” Steve’s voice was tight as he stood up, his palm resting at your lower back as he passed you. He leant down, pressing his lips to yours gently before speaking. “Enjoy your shower, baby. I’m gonna call Robin about meeting us for a drink later.” He left you with one last peck, and a small pat to your ass before shutting the bathroom door behind him.

And you most definitely did enjoy your shower. Seeing as it was now apparently a special occasion, you took extra time in lathering yourself in your favourite body wash and oil. By the time you’d stepped out of the shower and doused yourself in lotion, you smelt like one of the cupcakes you’d baked this morning. Like sweet, tasty vanilla. 

When you made your way into the bedroom, you sat straight at your vanity that Steve had bought for you on your first Christmas together, and started getting ready. As you swiped on your mascara and layered on your blush, your mind was fluttered with which dress you were going to wear tonight. 

The black one that made your chest look phenomenal, or the red one that hugged your hips so nicely that Steve practically growled every time he saw you in it. Ultimately, you decided on the dress that Steve said suited you so beautifully. It was the dress that you wore on your first date, the dress that he swears he fell in love with you right then and there the first time that he saw you in it.

Once your hair was perfectly made up and your lipstick was perfectly lined, you stood in front of your full length mirror next to your dresser as you applied the finishing touches. Your fingers nimbly slipping in your earrings, watching your reflection closely to ensure the backs were connecting correctly. 

“Holy shit,” You heard from the doorway, your head spinning to see Steve leant against the frame. Your heart swelled in your chest at the sight of him, he was wearing a pair of suit trousers that were almost too tight – in the best way possible. But also the gorgeous blue dress shirt that he’d worn on your first date. “Baby, you look incredible.”

“Me? Look at you, honey,” You quipped as he made his way over to you, you turned your attention back to the mirror as you slipped in your other earring. Steve was quick to appear behind you, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head as his eyes found yours in the reflection. “Can you help me for a minute? My necklace, can you put it on for me?”

Steve hummed softly as he pecked another kiss into your hair before moving to the dresser, he knew exactly what necklace you wanted to wear, the one you always wore on special occasions. A beautiful piece that he’d bought you for your one year anniversary, he loves seeing you in it and he loves watching the way you smile when you look at it even more. 

“Mind your hair a second, honey.” His voice was gentle as he appeared back behind you, and you offered him a warm smile as you pulled your hair up so he could put on the necklace. His fingers felt gentle against your skin, pressing a small kiss to the curve of your neck once he’d finished. 

A small sigh passed your lips as Steve’s hands found your hips, his thumbs softly rubbing against the fabric as he continued pressing tender kisses against your neck. Your back slotted so easily against his front, like the two of you were made to be in this position. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as your head tilted to the side as his lips peppered up the side of your neck, your hands falling on top of his own as they slipped over your stomach to pull you closer. His fingers slipped through your own with ease, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt Steve’s hips press into you ever so slightly. 

“Steve–” You tried to argue, your eyes fluttering open to watch him practically engulf you from behind. “We have a reservation.” 

“Fuck the reservation,” His breath was hot as he mumbled against your neck, softly sucking on the sweet spot beneath your ear as his fingers slowly trailed to your side, teasingly close to where your zipper laid. “You look so beautiful when you’re only wearing your ring.”

A nervous laugh escaped you as your teeth sank into your lower lip, your hand that was tied up with his own now that rested against your hip giving him a small squeeze as you spoke. “We’ve got all night for that, baby.”

He pulled his lips from your neck with a small huff, catching your eyes in the reflection. You caught the sparkle immediately, allowing a smirk to tug at the corner of your lips as you allowed the tips of his fingers to trail up your side to take the metal zipper between his two fingers. “I’ll be quick, baby. Just once, we’ll be so quick. In and out, promise.”

All fight had alleviated from your brain as you sank further into his touch, allowing your hips to push backward slightly as your grip on him tightened gently. “There’s nothing quick about you, Steve Harrington.” 

A small laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, his lips reattaching to your neck as his fingers inched the zipper downward. “Well, I’ve never heard you complain about that, Mrs. Harrington. Is my speed an issue for you?” He quipped as the tips of his fingers dragged up your arm slowly, a small smirk toying at his own lips now. 

You shook your head gently, pulling your fingers from around his own to slowly push the straps of your dress over your shoulders, a hint of sarcasm laced in your tone as you spoke. “No, honey. Nothing about you is ever an issue for me.”

Steve began trailing his lips down your neck and shoulder as the fabric fell off of it and onto his hand, lifting his own to pull the other strap down. A small grunt passed his lips against your shoulder as his eyes were met with your bare breasts in the mirror. “Knowing you weren’t wearing anything under that dress is an issue for me. You were gonna make me sit through a whole meal like that? You’re evil, baby.” 

“Evil? Oh, poor Steve. What can I do to make it better, hm?” Your voice teased as your hands lifted to wrap around the dress that had pooled around you beneath your chest, slowly pulling it down as Steve’s hands slipped from your arm and your hip to cup each of your breasts in his hands. 

His lips parted, his eyes intently watching as your tits practically spilled out of his hands. Each of his thumbs tracing your areolas before slowly grazing across your nipples, both of which were hardening under his touch. 

A small gasp escaped you, both of you watching as his forefingers began toying with his thumb. Twisting you, tugging you, watching you itch with pleasure under his touch as you arched into it. “Mm, this is already helping, honey.”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip as your head lulled against his chest, your back arching from his front to push yourself further into his touch. “Anything I can do to help you, baby, ‘m all yours.” 

Your voice was breathy as your words fell past your lips, Steve’s eyes trailing from his hands ravishing your chest up to your eyes. And even though you’ve looked into his eyes hundreds of times everyday for the last three and a half years, your insides still erupt in butterflies every time he looks at you. 

Steve’s eyes sparkled at your words, offering you a small nod as his lips attached back to the soft skin of your shoulder. As he peppered kisses against you, his hands slipped from your breasts and down your front slowly. His palms splayed across your stomach, the tips of his fingers inching underneath the black lace of your underwear on your hips. 

“You’re so perfect, baby. Every single inch of you, you’re a goddess,” His voice was mumbled against your shoulder, you could feel your skin heating up at his praise. Steve made sure he told you how beautiful you were every single day, somehow you still don’t get tired of hearing it. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“I’m all yours, baby.” You replied quickly, almost breathlessly as his lips trailed up to your neck. His teeth grazing and teasing the soft skin as his fingers slowly pulled down your underwear.

He lifted his head from the curve of your neck as he peeled the fabric off of you, revealing yourself to him. With a small smirk, Steve leant down slightly, pushing them further down your thigh until they dropped to your feet. 

“See, honey?” He whispered, his voice hoarse as his fingertips trailed up your thigh. He pressed his front into you, the familiar feeling of his hardening cock pressing into the plush of your ass as his fingers squeezed your hips gently before pushing through the hair that laid across your mound. “You look so beautiful when you’re only wearing your ring. Just your ring, and that pretty necklace.”

Steve’s smirk grew as a small whine passed your lips, watching your face contort in pleasure as his hand dipped between your thighs. His long, thick fingers slipped through your slick folds as your hand snaked around his forearm. “Are you gonna stand there and tell me how much you want me in just my ring, or are you gonna show me?”

“Oh, is that how it is?” He chimed, his middle finger finding your clit with ease as he circled it slowly. Too slowly, your grip on him tightening as your hips stuttered, not knowing whether to roll back against him or up into his hand. “Look at you, needy little thing. Don’t know what to do with yourself, huh?”

Your body decided for you, your hips rocking into his touch as two of his fingers explored you further. Your eyes were glued to watching Steve’s fingers spread you open, his digits easily working through your folds before finally pressing against your entrance. 

“God, Steve–” You huffed in pleasure, your grip on him tightening as two of his fingers slipped inside your fluttering cunt. You felt Steve’s breath hitch from behind you as your tight heat swallowed his fingers, your hips rolling into his with each curl against your sweet spot. “Fuck, baby. F–Feel so good.” 

“You feel so good, baby,” Steve panted from above you as his lips nipped beneath your ear. His other hand giving your hip a squeeze before lifting his hand to your jaw, his thumb gentle as it grazes over your skin before swiping two of his fingers across your lower lip. “Open.”

Your jaw fell slack in an instant, your cunt pulsing around his thick digits as your lips wrapped around his fingers. Steve sighed in pleasure as your tongue swirled around him, coating him with your saliva as he pressed down on your tongue, before pulling them from your lips with a pop to paw at your breast.

A shiver ran down your spine as his wet fingers danced around your hardened nub, using his heavy palm to hold your breast in his hand as his middle and index finger toyed with you. “God, I love everything about you, baby.” Steve cooed as the sound of his digits bullying into your cunt filled up the bedroom. 

Your grip tightened on his arm as your hips rutted into his hand, you could feel your orgasm inching closer as his thumb found your clit, rubbing messy yet perfect circles against the swollen nub as you grunted with pleasure. “F–Fuck, Steve–”

“Mm, I love your beautiful face, baby. Always smiling at me with those big, pretty eyes. I love how soft your skin is,” He whispered before pressing his lips to your neck again, his fingers moving across to your other breast and holding your body close against him. “God, I love your fuckin’ tits, baby, fit so perfectly in my hand.” 

“Steve, baby, I’m so close– Please.” You were practically whining under his touch, letting your body fall into his as he held you up. Your legs began to weaken beneath you as his fingers deepened within you, stroking your sweet spot perfectly. 

“Yeah? Come for me then, baby, come on,” Steve cooed in your ear, your eyes fluttered shut as your chest heaved beneath his hand. “Perfect little pussy, ‘s all mine. I love her too, always so wet and ready for me–”

“Fuck–” Your nails dug into his arm as his words tipped you over the edge, you lifted your head and opened your eyes to glance at the reflection in front of you. To match up his actions to the sounds he was eliciting from you, the lewd squelch of your cunt as you finally came around his fingers. 

Steve’s eyes were intent on watching too, his hand slipping from your breast to your stomach, holding you steady as your body writhed with pleasure against him. “That’s it, honey. Good girl.” 

He was hesitant in pulling his fingers out of you, you were certain he was going to try and coax another orgasm out of you as his lips pressed soothing kisses to your jaw. Both of his sturdy hands fell to your hips, the two of you sharing the same taunting smirk in the mirror as you both eyes over your wrecked state. 

You pulled yourself from his grip, finally turning around and pressing your hands to his chest. He was still wearing that same smirk, the one that caused his eyes to darken as his palms slipped to your lower back, pulling you closer until your body was flush against his own. 

“So, do you think we can make that reservation?” Steve spoke gently, lifting a hand from your back to push a strand of your hair from your face that had fallen. A choked laugh left your lips, lifting yourself up on your toes as you shook your head. 

“You’re funny,” You mumbled as you leant forward to graze your lips against his own, feeling his smirk against you as you pressed a kiss to his lips. “You’re only gonna be eating one thing tonight, and it won’t be anywhere near a restaurant.” 

Steve pulled away from your lips to laugh, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as his hands lifted from your body to cup your cheeks. Your smile widened as his thumbs glossed over the plush of your cheek, Steve’s shoulders still reacting from his laughter. “God, my wife is such a damn cheeseball.”

“Shut up,” You muttered, lifting your hand from his chest to swat at his shoulder. Your lip curled into a smirk of its own as you tried to bite back your own laughter. Your fingers slipped to the buttons of Steve’s shirt, working them open to reveal the span of his chest. “Call me a cheeseball again and see what happens.”

Steve just snorted another laugh, leaning down to steal another kiss from you as he began tugging his shirt out of his belt. You pulled your lips back to take a look at your shirtless husband once he’d dropped the garment somewhere near your dress, you hummed softly as your hands graced his skin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Steve.” You mumbled as your eyes wandered across the hair spanning his chest, following the trail that led far beneath his belt, a trail you wished you could hike through and live there. The tips of your fingers dragged across the constellations of freckles and moles that spanned his shoulders and stomach, you’d studied them for so long you could probably draw them on a piece of paper with your eyes closed. 

Your gaze glanced up to Steve’s, who was watching you with fascination as your palms splayed across the curve of his stomach. You leant forward, your lips pressing to his chest as your fingers found the buckle of his belt. 

The metal worked open quickly under your touch, your movements moving more frantic as a wave of need rushed through you. You needed to feel your husband, thick and heavy in your hand. Steve could feel your eagerness, assisting you in ridding the belt before unzipping his slacks. 

“C’mon, honey,” He whispered as his hand found your jaw, lifting you up for him to brush his lips with your own before his hand found your ass. He patted it gently, tilting his head toward your bed that laid behind you both. “Go get comfortable.”

With that, a small smack of his hand landed against the plush of your rear. A small gasp escaped you, and when you looked up at Steve you realised his gaze was locked on the mirror, watching how your ass jiggled for him as he smacked it. You rolled your eyes playfully, twisting your arm around to take his hand to follow you to the bed. 

As your knees hit the mattress and you crawled onto it, you turned to watch Steve follow behind you, attempting to rid his trousers. Your smile warmed at the sight of it, the sight of your husband desperately trying to pull off his unreasonably, yet beautifully tight trousers. 

You moved to the middle of the bed and leant back on your hands, letting your legs fall open as Steve kicked the trousers off his feet. He was cursing under his breath as they swatted across the room, his hands wrapped around the band of his boxers when he looked up. The sight of you spread out for him was enough to stop him in his tracks. 

“God, honey,” He practically whined, his movements quickening as he pushed down his boxers and stepped out of them before taking one last look at you. “You really are a goddess. You’re just, so perfect. Like heaven–”

“Baby.” You interrupted him, blinking up at him as your head tilted to the side, your thighs falling that much further apart that made his throat bob. 

“Yeah, right.” And with that, he practically leapt onto you. His body hovered over your own in seconds, his palms flattening on the mattress on either side of you as he lowered himself to you. Catching his lips with your own, your hands lifted to hold either side of his neck, your fingertips brushing through the curls of his hair. 

A small gasp escaped from your lips to his own as you felt the familiar press of his cock against your thigh, inching closer to where you so desperately needed him. You pulled your lips from his, a smile peaking at your lips as he leant forward to chase you. You gave in, pressing one kiss to his lips before mumbling against him. “Lay down, honey.”

His head pulled back at your words, his brow quipping up as he studied your face. You watched as he put the pieces together, his lips growing into a smirk. He leant down, stealing one last kiss from you before rolling off of you.

As he laid on his back, his cock laid heavy against his stomach. You rolled onto your side next to him, huffing a small laugh through your nose as Steve’s arms crossed behind his head, giving him a perfect view to watch you. 

You leant forward, pressing your lips to the first inch of your skin you could reach, the delicate span of his chest. You trailed your left hand across his stomach, lifting your head to watch your own actions as your hand slipped around his base. 

You hummed softly at the feeling of his thick cock in your hand, a feeling you would never grow tired of. Your wrist worked in a slow circle, your hand teasingly dragging up his length, your thumb tracing over his head to collect the precum that had leaked. You leant over his cock, pooling saliva in your mouth and letting it fall to his tip. 

His breath hitched at the feeling of it, at the sight of your lips wrapping around his tip to spread your spit down his length. Your hand slipped perfectly up and down the silky skin, working with the mixture of your saliva and his spend.

You pulled your lips off of him, tilting your head to just sit back and watch as his cock twitched under the movements of your hand. The sound of Steve’s beautiful moans and sighs passed his lips, hitting your ear as you picked up your pace. 

“F–Fuck, baby. I– God,” Steve’s stomach was tensing, his breath hitching as one of his hands shifted from behind his head to your own, pushing through your hair as your gaze turned to him. “I don’t– Fuck.”

“You okay, baby?” You spoke softly, lowering your head to press your lips to his cock, leaving a trail of open mouthed, sloppy kisses up his length before swirling your tongue around his top. 

He nodded quickly, then shook his head, cursing under his breath. His jaw fell slack as he watched you, his head rolling backward into his own grip as he sighed. “You– Doing that. With your ring. I need you– Now.” 

You were quick to follow his lead, pressing one last kiss to his leaky tip for good measure before pulling yourself off of him. His hand holding your head was pulling you upward, and you dove forward, your lips finding his own as your hand braced against his chest. 

The kiss was messy, both of you desperate to taste one another as you licked into each other's mouths. As Steve’s fingers curled through your hair, you manoeuvred your legs to either side of his hips. 

His spare hand dipped between your bodies, his palm grazing against your mound before two of his fingers slipped between your folds. You gasped against him, your hips rocking into his hand as he spread your slick throughout, readying you for him. 

Steve pulled his lips from yours reluctantly, and when his gaze fell between your bodies you knew what he was looking for. 

Both of your palms flattened on his chest as you pushed yourself up, also glancing down as Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock. He stroked himself a few times for good measure as you steadied yourself over him. 

A loud gasp past your lips as Steve’s fat tip brushed over your clit, when you looked down at him, he was sporting a lazy smirk against his lips. He was working teasingly slow as he pushed his cock through the slip of your folds, and back to your clit, his eyes gazing up to you with each nudge against the swollen nerve. 

“Steve, baby. Please–” And with that, the familiar stretch at your entrance was prevalent. A loud, thick moan passed your lips as Steve’s hand steadied at your hip, guiding you as you lowered yourself onto his length. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” Steve sighed as he lifted his head, tucking his chin into his chest to watch as your heat swallowed his cock. “So tight. Such a tight fucking cunt, baby. Can’t believe you’re all mine, fuck.”

Your eyes fluttered shut at his words, your head rolling back with pleasure as your hands braced against him. As you seated yourself on him, his hands slipped to your thighs, his palms splaying against the soft skin as your hips began working.

“Wanna see you, baby. Need to see that– Fuck, that beautiful face.” Steve’s voice was tight as his hands slipped to your hips, guiding you as his own hips snapped up into you to match your movements. 

A string of loud moans left your lips with each thrust of his cock, hitting so perfectly inside of you. As your hips found the perfect rhythm with his own, your hands lifted from his torso to push your hair out of your face, your lips parting – unable to find the words as Steve fucked them all out of you. 

“Look at you, fucked out already, huh?” Steve’s hands slipped from your hips, using one to push himself up so his body was flush with your own. His arms snaked around you, holding you close against him as he lowered his lips to the plush of your breast. 

Your hand braced at his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as you whined into his ear and just as you went to reply, Steve’s grip on you tightened and he carefully rolled the two of you over. 

The change of position had Steve’s hands braced against the mattress on either side of you, your legs still wrapped around him as his hips snapped into your own. With each thrust of his heavy cock, your breasts rocked with the rest of your body. Steve’s head dipped, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. 

“Fuck– Steve,” You whined with pleasure as your fingers slipped through his hair, holding him in place as his tongue ravished your hardened bud. Your back arched from the mattress, pushing yourself further into his mouth. “So fucking good.”

Steve practically growled at your words, his hips picking up their pace at your words. He pulled his mouth off of you, moving onto the other with ease as your other hand grasped at his shoulder. 

You could feel heat within you rising, the coil in your stomach tightening. The sound of Steve slurping at your chest, the sound of Steve’s cock slapping into you was almost pornographic, a soundtrack to get you off as your leg braced around his back. 

Steve’s lips pulled off of you with a pop, lifting his head to look down at you. “Tight fucking cunt keeps sucking me in, ‘s like you can’t keep me out,” He dipped his head to steal a kiss from you, his moans mixing with your own. “You want me to fill you up, huh? You’re gonna milk my fucking cock with your tight little– Fuck.”

“Please, baby,” You whined against him, your hand slipping from his shoulder to slip between the two of you, finding your clit with ease. You felt his breath hitch from above you as your finger worked in tight circles, your walls fluttering around him. “I’m so close, Steve.”

“I know, honey,” Steve mumbled as his lips dropped to your jaw, moaning against you as his lips messily pecked at your skin. Your moans were peaking as you felt yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm. “I–I’m gonna– Fuck, come for me, baby.”

You obliged him with a loud cry of pleasure, your head tipping into the mattress as your legs began to shake from your climax, your body writhing beneath you. Steve’s hand slipped to your hip, desperate to hold onto you as his hips stuttered, his cock twitching as he met his own orgasm just as you did. 

Steve’s hips shallowly fucked into you as he shot his hot, thick spend inside of you, coating you from the inside. Your grip on his hair tightened, pulling him from the crook of your neck up to your lips as your hand pulled from between your legs to steady at his shoulder. 

His kiss was tender, his lips moving softly against your own as his slight thrusts worked you both through your orgasm. He gave your hip a small squeeze as he slowly pulled out of you, a gasp falling against his lips from your own at the loss. 

Steve’s hand slipped to your waist as he lowered himself next to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before falling on his back beside you. Your body slotted into his perfectly, your head falling into the crook of his arm as your palm rested on his stomach. 

“I really do love you so much, baby,” He spoke, slightly breathless as he turned his head to press his lips against your hairline. As you looked up at him, you smiled fondly under the look that he was giving you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. And I will tell you that every single day. My beautiful, cheeseball wife.” 

You snorted a laugh, accompanied by a short eye roll as you titled your head back with a small pucker of your lips. He complied, leaning down to tenderly kiss you once more before you whispered back. “I love you, honey.”

“I love your pretty face,” He whispered against your lips as his hand lifted to your cheek, the other softly rubbing small circles against the curve of your ass. “I love your gorgeous thighs,” He pressed another peck to your lips, “Your stomach,” And another, “Your tits,” And another, “Your–”

“Alright!” You giggled softly against him, shaking your head slightly as you pulled your lips back from his own. Your fingers lifted to push through the hair that had stuck to his forehead, “Do you love my ring?”

Steve huffed a small laugh as the hand resting on your ass slipped to your side, giving you a small squeeze. His voice was low and hoarse as he whispered, “I could’ve come just seeing it on your finger, wrapped round me.”

“Wanna see it again?” You hummed softly as he pulled you closer, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as his hand struck the plush of your ass again. 

“Baby, I wanna see it three times a day, everyday, until I die,” The two of you huffed a short laugh as he leant down to kiss you again, your thigh lifting from beside him and laying it across him. “And then some.”

And he did see it, at least three more times that night. The two of you spent your evening entangled as one, pretzled in every position imaginable as he bent you every which way, as you sank down on him enough times to satiate the two of you for the week – which it didn’t.

Hours later, Steve’s hands were gripping your hips tight as he thrust into you from behind, his eyes glued to the way your cunt swallowed him and your ass rippled with each snap of his hips. 

“Fuck, honey. That’s it– Perfect little cunt, taking me so well. Want me to fill you up one more time, huh? Fill that–” Steve’s babbles were cut off by the phone on your bedside table ringing, the shrill ringtone drowning out the sound of your cries into the pillow and the sound of Steve’s cock fucking his come into you again, and again. 

Steve’s hips stuttered, glancing down at you as you lifted yourself up onto your elbows. Your lip curved into a smirk as you turned over your shoulder to look at him, you drew your hips forward and back against him as you spoke. “Answer it.” 

“Wh–” Steve’s lips fell slack at your brazenness, his own lip curling into a smirk as his hand lifted from your hip to strike down against the plush of your ass before leaning over to the ringing phone. 

When he picked it up, he was breathless and panting down the phone. “Hello?” He called down the phone, his eyes dialling back into the sight beneath him as he pulled his cock out of you slowly, watching how your cunt gripped onto him, not wanting to let him go.

“Steve? Where are you guys? We’ve been waiting at the bar for like, an hour.” Robin’s voice crackled down the phone, Steve’s eyes widened in realisation that you both were meant to meet her after your reservation. 

“Oh–” Steve straightened, his mind scrambling for an excuse, but in doing so his hips snapped back into yours which earnt a small gasp from you. “We– Uh–”

“My God, you two are sick.” Robin laughed down the phone, your brow furrowed as you turned to face Steve properly. His palm was flat against his face, dragging it downward as he listened to her lecture. 

“Yeah. No– No, she’s got a migraine. I know, yeah. How about tomorrow?” Steve spoke, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear to move both of his hands back onto your hips. “Mhm, six is fine for us. Alright, see you then. Bye, Rob.” 

Steve was quick to grab the phone, double checking it was off before tossing it onto the bed behind him. A small laugh snickered past your lips, but you were quickly shut up by another snap of Steve’s hips. 

“Poor baby, got to fuck this migraine out of you now, ‘s that okay?” Steve didn’t give you much room to answer, his palm striking the reddened flesh of your ass once more before slipping his cock back inside of you.