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just-jordie-things · 8 months

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video games - takuma ino

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 11.6k warnings: mentions of blood, drinking summary: ino has been infatuated with his non-sorcerer roommate since day one. but he's convinced she couldn't feel the same way. more info: roommate!au, friends to lovers, gojo hits on you but it's for the greater good ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you // everything i do // i tell you all the time, heaven is a place on earth with you // tell me all the things you wanna do ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

How Takuma Ino ended up with a non-sorcerer roommate wasn’t as interesting of a story as his colleagues always thought it would be when they’d first find out. They were always so eager for the details- was she his girlfriend? Did she know about his career and lifestyle? Was she cute? How did they meet?- and even though Ino would often laugh sheepishly and duck his head to hide his smile, the truth just wasn’t that exciting.

The truth was that as fun as being a jujutsu sorcerer was, it didn’t pay well. So he needed a roommate in order to better afford rent. One ad led to another, and soon (y/l/n) (y/n) was showing up asking for a tour. It only took one visit for her to decide to move in, and they’ve been roommates for the better part of a year now.

Ino always leaves out the part where he didn’t believe she’d actually agree to join the lease with him- when she’d shown up at his door he figured she’d only asked for a tour to be polite. In his mind there was just no way that a young woman as beautiful and hard working in her field needed a roommate- much less some random dude like him. She’d been so friendly and easy going upon their first meeting and they seemed to click just right, so she’d shook his hand and set a move-in date that very day. When she’d left, Ino had collapsed on his sofa with a beer and a bewildered laugh to himself. Even now, he’s not sure how he managed to make it happen.

“You wanna order chinese? I don’t feel like cooking”

(y/n’s) call from the other side of the room drew him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over the back of the couch to see her rummaging through the pantry. Logic reared it’s head, reminding him that they’d just bought groceries so they should probably save the money and eat at home tonight.

But then she gave him that hopeful little smile that he couldn’t help but return before nodding his head. Logic never won in a battle against something (y/n) wanted.

“Sure” He agrees through his smile.

By the time she’s dressed in her comfy lounging clothes, he’s already called their usual place and made an order. He’d long since memorized her go-to order and was usually the one put in charge of calling. He never minded. How could he complain when everything about their situation was just so perfect?

The roommate of his dreams, she was. Tidy, quiet, a great cook, and one of the most pleasant people he’s ever gotten to know, Ino truly believed he struck gold when (y/n) answered his ad. So even when his colleagues teased him for his living situation, he could hardly care.

And tease him they did. Gojo was the main assailant. Often joking about how strong Ino must feel all the time, being in the presence of a weak non-sorcerer human. How she must think he was some superhero compared to all the lame human men she’d meet at her job or through her friends. How Ino must be so lucky to have a young lady as his roommate. Still, no matter how much he messed around, Ino knew that there was no harm in Gojo’s words. And he also knew that if he’d actually met (y/n), he’d shut his ignorant mouth.

Nanami didn’t invest himself too much in Ino’s private life, he was simply respectful and reserved like that, but on occasion he’d been known to ask about his roommate. Mostly situational to their occupation- such as what she thought of the nasty cuts and bruises he’d come home with- but once in a blue moon he’d make a comment suggesting it was only a matter of time before one of them developed feelings. Ino always flustered under the light of those questions and found a way to avoid them.

In the few times throughout his week that he’d cross paths with Shoko, she always made a point to ask about his roommate. Which was sort of odd, seeing as her work in the infirmary didn’t make them the closest of colleagues, but at first the casual conversation was welcomed. But it was only a matter of time before she, too, would begin pestering him about making a move on her.

They all seemed to have the same underlying message. How could you share a living space with someone and not catch feelings for them? And Ino spent a lot of his time and energy trying to convince them that it simply wasn’t like that. Just because they both happened to be single, and close friends, and sharing a small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean that romantic feelings were bound to happen. They were both adults, they could live in such a situation and keep their hands and hearts to themselves.

He was a liar, though.

Takuma Ino had fallen completely, head over heels in love with his roommate, and there was no chance of him ever getting over that feeling.

It had taken relatively no time for the feelings to develop. Shortly after her moving in, she’d made an effort to be close to him. There wasn’t a moment where he felt like she wanted space or privacy away from him. She often offered to help him cook, or invited him grocery shopping with her, or out to a movie she wanted to see, and a fast friendship blossomed. The way she always reached out to include him had him swooning in no time.

Coffee runs, movie nights, and frequent texting throughout their days before they both came home all snowballed into one undeniable truth. He was falling in love with her.

When Ino had first realized that’s what was happening when his heart would leap out of his chest when she’d scoot close to him on the couch so they could share a blanket while they watched a movie or played a game together, he’d tried to bury it. Because surely his mind was just playing tricks on him. Surely he was just excited that a pretty and kind girl like her wanted to be so close to him, and his feelings were strictly platonic.

But then he found himself relaxing just from the smell of her shampoo wafting close to him. He realized that when he would come home from a late assignment and she’d be waiting for him that his heart was skipping a beat because it was just so perfectly domestic. He couldn’t deny it for too long at all, not when she so sweetly saved him the leftovers from her dinner and would heat it up for him while he showered and de-stressed from the particularly rough assignment.

The only problem was that he knew she didn’t feel the same way, and he’d been struggling to keep his true feelings hidden. From her, and from his pesky fellow sorcerers.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) hated when Ino came home late from his assignments.

Not because the squeak door woke her up, or because it meant she was alone taking care of the evening chores. It was simply because she’d stay up every time, too consumed with anxiety to go to sleep without knowing he’d returned safe and sound.

Which, in all fairness, he always did. He always came home, and most of the time he’d shoot her a message saying he’d wrapped up with work and was on his way- even when it was one in the morning- like tonight.

She waited up on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket with the title screen of a movie she’d watched hours ago playing it’s intro for the thousandth time. In all fairness she knew he could handle himself, and he’d never not come home, or come back with life threatening injuries.

That didn’t mean he didn’t come back hurt, and that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fuss over him, every single time.

And tonight when he finally stumbles into the apartment, just as the clock ticks past two, she’s practically gnawing at her nails as she rushes towards him.

Despite the way he limps, and there’s blood trickling out of his nose, he gives her a smile, and he’s the first to worry.

“It’s late, you should be in bed” He scolds without any real threat to his words. This routine had established itself months ago, and he knew damn well that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until she knew he was safely returned home.

Still, he worried about something as silly as her sleep schedule every time.

“Shut up” Is all (y/n) mumbles, beckoning him further into their apartment, until he’s following her to the bathroom.

She’s faster than him, pulling out the well loved first aid kit and getting everything prepped and ready on the counter while he slowly staggers in behind her. It was practically the same scene every time he came home like this. No matter how beat up he was- with a mere scratch or bloodied to a pulp- she was forcing him to sit down on the lid of the toilet seat so she could tend to his injuries herself.

Ino wasn’t sure if it was for her own well being and comfort, knowing that she’d taken care of him and none of his injuries would get infected. Or if maybe she just didn’t trust him to take care of them himself, maybe she knew that his idea of first aid was slapping a hello kitty band aid on it and calling it a night.

(There was one instance a few months ago where he’d left a hello kitty band aid on the back of his hand that she’d so lovingly placed there, and Gojo didn’t let him hear the end of it for the entire day. Not that Ino minded. Every time he caught a glimpse of the pink band aid it brought a smile to his face remembering how gentle she’d been covering the cut underneath, how her thumb had stroked over the sticker so lightly to ensure it was well placed and would do the trick. He left that band aid on his hand for as long as he could before eventually it lost his adhesive and in turn he lost it)

Either way, he never tried to talk her out of tending to him. Even when he knew it was too late for her to be staying up just to clean up some silly injuries that were nothing compared to the things that Shoko healed with her Reverse Cursed Technique- but he’d never tell (y/n) about the broken bones or brushes with death. He’d just keep his mouth shut and sit on that toilet seat while she soaked a cotton pad in antiseptic and gently dabbed at the cuts on his arm.

“Sorry”

She’d mumble the apology every time she’d make first contact with the injury, knowing how the alcohol tended to sting. And every time, Ino would give her a small smile and tell her it was alright.

“How was your day?” He hummed as she continued to clean up the few cuts on his arms. She had his sleeve rolled all the way up and tucked carefully at his shoulder so it wouldn’t be a hindrance. She hummed thoughtfully before shrugging a shoulder.

“Pretty boring, nothing of note,” She murmured back truthfully. “Until now” She adds, her eyes meeting his just so he’d catch the hint of reprimand in her tone.

Ino can’t help but chuckle to himself, he’d forever be amused by the way she worries over him. She may have been new to the world of jujutsu sorcery, but it never failed to humor him how she’d fuss and worry over such minor injuries. Injuries that Shoko wouldn’t treat even if Ino walked into the infirmary and begged for it. Surely he’d be laughed at.

“So you’re saying I’m the highlight?” He teases quietly, and (y/n) rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny it. She chooses the safe route and keeps her focus on her handiwork. He still laughs at her obvious non-answer. “Work was alright, though?”

“I suppose,” She answers. “Got home early because some people in my department were going out and convinced my boss to join, so they let us all leave early. That was nice”

Ino gave her a small frown, but it went unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t go?”

Her eyes briefly flicker up to his, and she purses her lips before shrugging her shoulders in a small movement.

“Wasn’t really in the mood,” She says, and it’s not a total lie, but she averts her eyes shortly after, reaching out to the first aid kit on the counter again. She fishes around a bit before finding the package of square shaped band aids. “Besides, I didn’t know when you’d be back” She added.

It deepens his frown, but she’s completely avoiding his gaze now. He expects as much, seeing as he’s had this conversation with her before. He encourages her to go out with her friends more, or make new friends at work to hang out with, and she always has an excuse at the ready. Sometimes her reasoning was decent, but most of the time it was obvious she came up with them on the spot, and it made his heart sink.

Of course he wanted her around all the time, pushing her away was absolutely a struggle for him, but Ino knew that if they continued only spending time with one another, then his feelings would never go away. It would be hard, but tremendous help if she made a new best friend, or better yet a boyfriend, and then he’d have to get over her, he was sure.

“You shouldn’t avoid your friends cause of me,” He tells her quietly. “It’s late, you could’ve gone out… if you wanted to”

After placing a band aid on his skin and smoothing down the corners so it stayed intact, she glanced up at him. A small knot formed between her brows before she cracked a goofy smile.

“They’re not my friends, Ino,” She chuckles at him. “They’re coworkers. I see them plenty enough, I don’t need to hang out with them outside of work- where we would probably still only talk about work”

As far as excuses went, it was a pretty damn good one. So this time he gave in, smiling and nodding back at her in understanding.

“Guess that’s fair,” He mumbles, and she laughs quietly again as she opens up another band aid. “I just… I dunno, I don’t want you missing out of stuff, that’s all”

“I think I’m old enough to decide what I want to do with my time,” She teases, her cheeks warming at the insinuation in her admission. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be”

His heart skips a beat, and as lovely as the feeling is when his stomach flips, Ino wishes she wouldn’t say stuff like that. It gave his heart the wrong idea, and it was hard to fight with his heart. He was convinced his brain just wasn’t strong enough to fight the delusion.

“So your ideal night is patching up this idiot, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her in that way that always makes her laugh, and she does, bubbly and sweet, and again his stomach does a flip. Making her laugh always brightened him up completely. Like a video game character maxing out his health bar.

“I think I would’ve made a great doctor” She teases back, shaking the box of band aids at him before carefully tucking them back in their spot in the first aid kit.

“You don’t even give me lollipops, how could you say that?” Ino retorts in mock offense- although it would make these little patch up sessions even better if he was rewarded with her close proximity and candy, but he’d accept one sweet thing at a time.

“Shut up,” She says through her giggles, finally closing up the whole kit. “You’re lucky I don’t do any of the scary stuff. I’ll leave that for your sorcerer friends”

“Eh, it might come to that,” Ino shrugs. He stays seated as she puts the small case back into it’s spot in the cabinet, lingering in her space for however long she’ll let him. “Shoko will probably get tired of me eventually, you know. How comfortable are you with stitches?”

The grin on his face is nothing short of teasing- and he knows he should stop. He knows that eventually the lines get blurry and he’s not sure how much his teasing is starting to blend into flirting, and with how playful her nature is she’s never afraid to dish it back. Not once had she reacted in an uncomfortable manner to something he’s said, but that only makes it harder for him to draw that line in the sand.

(y/n) shuts the cabinet and turns to him with her hands on her hips. A serious look flashes across her expression that he can’t tell if it’s meant to be in humor or if she’s actually about to drop the playful atmosphere. With a step towards him, she leans over so her height matches his, and they’re face to face.

“Takuma Ino,” She declares, eyes boring into his with an intensity that makes him gulp down on air. “Unless you want some really funky looking scars, don’t go asking me to stitch you up. Leave it to your magic friends”

His anxious expression drops as he breaks into a smile, amused by her choice of words, and her own face softens as she smiles back at him. It was infectious, the way he smiled. It could get her to crack even when she was really trying to be stubborn. A secret weapon of his that (y/n) was pretty sure he used on purpose, but there were some instances she could be convinced that he had no clue of this power.

“My magic friends, huh?” He repeats with a smirk.

He’d definitely have to tell Gojo about that one when he saw him next. Surely it would feed into his ego, if not make him cackle.

(y/n) stands up again, her cheeks suddenly feeling a little too warm, before she spins around and heads out of the bathroom. Finally, Ino stands, stretching his sore limbs and checking over the array of bandages on his arm before following after her.

“Or better yet, just don’t get yourself hurt anymore” (y/n) adds, her back turned to him as she makes her way towards her room.

“Oh wow, I hadn’t thought of that” He shot back in a mocking voice. He knows she rolls her eyes, even if he can’t see.

“Just sayin’, why don’t you work on that technique where stuff doesn’t touch you? Like that one guy?”

He has to bite his cheek to keep himself from breaking out into a fit of laughter. She was trying her best to understand how jujutsu worked, even if she was a little off the mark. There was also something so rewardingly funny about someone not remembering who Gojo Satoru was- even if she’d never met the guy.

“Not exactly how it works,” He replies. (y/n) turns to him as she stands in the middle of her doorway. Her tiredness is more evident now in the way she leans against it and blinks slowly back at him. “Pretty sure I gotta stick with the one I was born with”

She hums, pursing her lips as she tries to recall all of his explanations for the finicky sorcerer world. But her mind is foggy with exhaustion and she’s getting a little too swept up in how softly his brown eyes gaze at her, so she shakes her head and finally turns towards her room.

“Noted,” She tells him, knocking twice on her frame before grabbing the handle of her door and pulling it behind her. “G’night Ino”

His heart warms as he bids her goodnight, and he lingers in the empty apartment for a few more seconds before making his way into his own bedroom.

Every minute spent with her felt special and worth basking in, even when nothing significant happened, even when it was a completely normal night. Just being around her was enough for his insides to melt into a buttery mess.

When he goes to sleep, he hopes to see her in his dreams, where he doesn’t have to feel anxious or guilty about his feelings, and he can be with her freely, without a care in the world.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“There’s gonna be this… work thing… next weekend,”

He brings it up out of nowhere, although he’s spent a while trying to find a way to say it, he actually blurts it out in the middle of the two of them watching a movie. So it’s not actually surprising when (y/n) turns towards him with a puzzled look on her face, already reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

Tonight she sits close enough that with his arm strewn across the back of the couch, it could almost feel like they were cuddled up together. Even though they’re not touching- unless you counted the stray hairs that fell from her claw clip and brushed his arm behind her head.

“If you wanted to come, anyways,” Ino clears his throat uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a little more on the spot with the movie stopped and her full attention on him. “Gojo’s hosting, said anyone can come, I- I don’t have that many details yet, but, um, I’ll probably go, since Nanami said he was-”

“And I’m allowed to go?” She ends his suffering with her question, her brows raising in shock.

“Allowed?” Ino repeats the choice of word, followed by a short chuckle. “Of course you are, why do you say it like that?”

“I dunno,” Her shoulders shrug limply, although she knows exactly why she asks. “Cause… I’m not like you, I guess”

Ino’s never given too much thought to their differences. Besides when he’d realized he’d have to tell her the truth about his career, and they had spent hours on this very sofa while he explained the complicated history of jujutsu, and the ins and outs of curses and cursed techniques. She’d had her uncertainties, and endless questions, but after that talk, the stark differences in the lives they led outside of this apartment rarely came up. He could almost say it didn’t matter, but he didn’t want to diminish either of their careers.

Now, as he watches her begin to curl up like she was trying to shrink into herself, his heart falls a little bit. Did she really feel like she didn’t deserve an invite? Just because she was a non-sorcerer? In his eyes, it certainly didn’t make her any less of a person. He could almost laugh. How could a person like her feel that way? Someone so good hearted, hard working, brilliant, gorgeous-

“Ino?” She presses forward, drawing him out of his derailed train of thoughts. He blinks a few times as he comes back to the present moment.

“I want you to come” He says, feeling much bolder than he had when he first brought the subject up.

Now she’s blinking back at him wordlessly, eyes going round and a smile tugging at her lips.

“You do?” She asks, just to be sure, even though there’s not a doubt in her mind that he means it, with how genuine and hopeful his expression is. Warmth blooms in her face, and she hopes that her blush isn’t too embarrassing.

It’s not. Ino finds it utterly adorable, and quite endearing.

“Yeah,” He affirms with a nod of his head, before pushing a hand through his hair to pull it away from his face. “I want you to meet everyone. And I want them to finally meet you, too. If you want to, that is”

Her smile widens a little further as she nods back at him, the movement jittery and short, displaying her eagerness in it’s fullest.

“Sounds fun. I’d love to,” She says softly. Ino lights up with excitement, sitting up a little straighter as he beams at her.

However, before he can reach for the remote and start their movie up again, she snatches it away, a curious expression crossing her features as she studies him.

“But what do you mean finally, hm?” She muses, the question only half-playful. Curiosity did get the best of her after all. “Have they been dying to meet me or something?”

He makes a face at her that makes her laugh, her eyes lighting up as his expression alone confirms what she’d been thinking.

“Have you been talking about me to your coworkers, Ino?” She teases, her grin practically splitting her face.

“Don’t be an idiot, of course I do,” He tries to play it off, reaching out for the remote again, but she pulls her hand away just before he can take it, subsequently having him lean almost fully across her, his arm outstretched towards the object that could free him of this torture. “(y/n)” He huffs in annoyance, frowning at her when she still doesn’t play the movie.

“Nuh uh,” She says childishly while shaking her head. “What do you tell them about me?” She presses further.

He wants to roll his eyes, and huff and groan until she’s annoyed into going back to their movie- which had just been starting to get good before he started this whole thing- but he can’t. He just can’t bring himself to do it. Not when she’s grinning up at him and he swears he sees an actual sparkle in her eyes.

“C’mon dummy, they know all about you” Again, Ino tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal.

(As if he hadn’t gone on a long winded story to Nanami just the other day about how he was going to surprise her with a fruit bouquet of mangos on her nearing birthday, because she’d recently become obsessed with the tangy fruit and demanded they picked up the most overpriced ones every time they went to the grocery store. Nanami had little to know interest in hearing about all the places Ino had researched who make fruit arrangements and how he hadn’t deemed any of them good enough yet)

“All about me, huh?” She repeats curiously, before humming, content with the response.

Then she finally pushes play on the remote before dropping it onto the cushion beside her. Ino sends a silent thank you prayer to whatever greater force was looking out for his dignity, and settles back into his seat.

He swears when (y/n) gets settled, she’s sat just a little bit closer to him. He’s pretty sure her shoulder wasn’t grazing against his earlier.

They’re a few minutes in before she speaks up again, her voice merely a soft whisper beside him.

“You didn’t have to be all shy about it. I talk about you at work all the time”

Ino can barely keep his focus on the whole rest of the movie.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The work event isn’t necessarily a fancy one. There’s not a dress code, and despite Ino’s worries with Gojo organizing it, it’s not at some five star establishment he couldn’t even afford to look at. It’s held at a small local restaurant and bar.

Gojo does, however, rent out the place for the evening, so the only patrons tonight would be those from Jujutsu Tech, and whoever they decide to bring.

Despite it being business casual at most, it still feels like it’s the most dressed up he’s ever gotten for going somewhere with (y/n). Maybe it’s just his heart working on overdrive after seeing the simple but sleek black dress she’d chosen to wear for the night, paired with a little mesh wrap that was tied in a little bow at her chest and flared at the sleeves for some personality- but as soon as the evening began, Ino was starting to overthink.

“I’ve never been here before,” (y/n) hums as they approach the venue. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this”

She peeks a glance over at Ino as he’s also admiring the building. It’s a rather small restaurant, but the architecture has enough character that it’s worth getting a good look at before going inside. Or maybe he was just stalling where he could.

He looks really nice tonight, she thinks, and the thought instantly makes her heart skip a beat as she takes a few more seconds to look at him. He’s in dark slacks and a cotton black sweater that looks so soft she’s suddenly dying to pinch the fabric between her fingers to see for herself. It’s paired with a white collared undershirt for a little extra flair- something she knows she once told him she liked seeing on a man- and without his mask piled up on top of his head his long hair wisps in slight curls around his ears, just barely touching his shoulders.

She knows she’s been staring for too long, but it takes a few tries before she actually pulls her gaze away from him.

“I wasn’t either,” Ino says, and it takes her a minute to remember what she’d even said. “Knowing Gojo, I was expecting something… worse”

(y/n) chuckles to herself, before nodding to the door.

“Time to enjoy not worse?” She prompts, and he grins before gesturing for her to follow him inside.

Ino reaches over her shoulder to push the door open, only to follow behind her with a gentle hand on her back guiding her in. The silk of her dress is so smooth and thin against the light graze of his hand that he can feel the heat of her skin through it, and it takes a mental talk with himself in order to keep him from pressing his hand fully against her back.

She gives him a sweet smile in gratitude, before both of their attention is pulled away by the shrill of cheering amongst the chatter of people in the restaurant.

There weren’t a lot of people- there weren’t many jujutsu sorcerers to begin with- but there were enough to fill the room with a certain level of white noise with background conversation. All of that was drowned out by a small group of people currently shouting and beckoning Ino and his date over towards them.

Most of the shouting came from Gojo, but Shoko and Utahime seemed to be at just the right amount of intoxicated to join in with loud bouts of laughter. Nanami is also at the table, politely sipping his drink with a mere nod of greeting as Ino brings (y/n) their way.

“I guess I should have given you some warnings” He says under his breath as they make their way through the slight crowd.

Most of the managers are grouped together, Nitta giving a friendly wave in passing before going back to a heated argument that made Ino and (y/n) chuckle to themselves. It lightened some of the tension in (y/n’s) shoulders. She didn’t want to bother him with her silly anxieties, but she’d been quite worried about showing up to an event full of people who were extraordinary, meanwhile she was merely a salary worker.

Don’t get her wrong, she worked hard and was proud of how quickly she’d moved up in the ranks, but how could she compare that to people with other-worldly abilities? People who actively saved lives?

“Warnings?” She murmurs, glancing over at him, only to find his gaze already set on her.

“Not- not bad ones, necessarily,” Ino stammered. “It’s just… Gojo is loud, and nosy, but he’s a good time and he means no harm, promise,”

(y/n) nods in understanding, eyes flickering back to the table of sorcerers they were currently headed towards. She had a pretty good idea of which one was Gojo.

“Nanami’s quiet. He looks judgemental, but he’s not. Well- maybe a little, but he’s polite. So. It’s fine, I don’t have any warnings about Nanami, he’ll like you a lot”

“Yeah?” A flattered smile spreads across her glossy lips. It was silly to take pride in being liked by a stranger, but she knew how much Ino looked up to his mentor, and it made her heart flutter to think he believed the man he respected so much would approve of her.

“Absolutely,” Ino’s voice is rich with certainty as he nods at her. “Shoko’s kind of a weirdo, that’s just cause she works in the morgue all day so her sense of humor is… warped. Utahime is her not-very-secret girlfriend, I’ve told you about that right?”

(y/n) nods in confirmation. She may have never met these people, but she felt like she knew most of them well enough just from the late night gossip sessions they’d have after a shared bottle of wine.

“Any questions?” He asked, slowing their steps the closer they got to the table.

It was just like Gojo to set his little crew of odd semi-forced friends up in the corner where they could have some privacy, even though they were the loudest bunch of the whole gathering. At least he had the decency to rent the place out so the only people he was bothering were those he already bothered on a regular basis.

“No,” (y/n) said softly, before reaching out and curling her fingers around the sleeve of his shirt, bringing his attention back towards her. “Just one request?”

Ino gives her a small nod, halting in place as he stares at her with a grave seriousness in his eyes.

“Don’t ditch me here?”

He almost laughs at the ask, but he stops himself when he notes the hints of anxiety hidden in her expression. The twitch at the corner of her mouth, the slight pinch in her brow. He clears his throat and nods at her, before grinning widely.

“Of course not!” He declares, squeezing her wrist gently before she drops her hold on his sleeve. “What do you take me for? A gentleman would do no such thing”

And as they finally approach the table of Ino’s closest colleagues, they’re both laughing, and some more tension is relieved from her shoulders.

Ino’s quick to introduce her, and he goes around the table to remind her of everyone’s names quickly, trying to get the awkward stage out of the way as quickly as possible. Everyone behaves well enough, or as well as he could hope for. Utahime’s a bit excitable as she compliments (y/n’s) dress and sparkling accessories, but it helps to break the ice as the two slip into conversation about their favorite boutiques.

Ino wants to point out that the Kyoto based sorcerer never was one for small talk with him, but he keeps his mouth shut solely because (y/n) warms up to her and Shoko quickly and he doesn’t want to throw a wrench in their bonding.

Gojo’s clearly in the middle of some wild and possibly partially made up retelling about a special grade curse he’d exorcized on a recent assignment, so after introductions he resumes his exaggerated storytelling, giving (y/n) and Ino time to order drinks and chat with Shoko and Utahime a little longer.

“You’re pretty brave for coming,” Shoko points out to (y/n), earning a slight glare from Ino, to which she backtracks and waves her hand dismissively. “I just mean because this is the worst”

“I don’t think so” (y/n) shrugs with a sweet smile as she sips her drink.

“You don’t know us that well yet, you’ll change your mind later,” Utahime chimes in. “This,” She gestures towards Gojo, who’s talking wildly with his hands as he reaches the climax of his story. “Is why I took off to Kyoto, first chance”

It earns a laugh from Shoko and Ino, so (y/n) forces a small chuckle as well, but so far she couldn’t complain about the company. Sure, the white haired man wearing sunglasses inside in the evening seemed a bit theatrical and high energy, but it was a party setting, right? So she could give him the benefit of the doubt for now.

“Speaking of-” Shoko gets up from her seat, not so subtly tapping Utahime’s hand, “I need a smoke”

“Oh, yeah, me too”

Utahime glances at (y/n) and Ino with a raised brow, silently offering them to join, but one look at Shoko’s wide eyes tells them to shake their heads and stay in place. Even if they did smoke, they were clearly not wanted at this particular break.

Once they’re out of sight, (y/n) turns to Ino, obviously fighting a grin on her face, before she leans in close to talk a little more privately.

“Oh, it’s painfully obvious”

He laughs back at her, nodding his head in agreement before tapping the rim of his glass against hers.

Their moment is broken up when long limbs stretch across the empty space that Utahime and Shoko had left, and apparently Gojo had wrapped up his story because now he’s slinking towards the two with a coy grin on his face.

“We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?”

(y/n) fights the urge to stagger backwards as he comes close. He has a wild sort of energy surrounding him. He’s intimidating, but not in a way that makes her afraid, just very aware of how large and powerful he is. She wonders if even a non-sorcerer like her can pick up on signatures of cursed energy, or if this was just his raw aura.

But the way he smiles is inviting and the bubbly giggles that erupt from him provide nothing but a feeling of friendliness, as if he was someone (y/n) had known for years.

“Almost a year” She answers, forcing a smile that she hopes doesn’t come across as awkward as it feels.

“Wow, a whole year!” He cheers, raising his glass at the accomplishment. “That’s absolutely marvelous. A whole year, huh?” He repeats it again thoughtfully, tilting his head just slightly.

Ino’s not sure if she’s noticed, but since Gojo approached them, he hadn’t once torn his eyes off of her. Perhaps she couldn’t tell with the dark shades covering his line of sight, but Ino had gotten quite used to reading Gojo’s body language even with the blockage of a blindfold.

He also wasn’t a complete dunce, he knew that the way she looked tonight made it difficult for anyone to take their eyes off of her. Even Utahime had gotten that glazed over look after they talked for long enough. No one was immune, it seemed, but Gojo was probably the only person in the room that sparked a nasty feeling in Ino’s chest with the way he smirked down at her.

The feeling is a dull heat, only ignited into something worse when Gojo pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, bright blue eyes on full display, and now so obviously focused on (y/n).

“How does someone go a whole year living with a pretty thing like you and not make a move, hm?”

Ino’s face twists up with shock and disgust, which humors Gojo as he begins to cackle, but he still doesn’t spare a glance away from (y/n), who barely reacts at all as she stands before them. She simply tilts her glass around, slowly mixing the ice around her drink. She doesn’t crack a laugh, but she also doesn’t give any sign that she’s upset with the unabashed flirting.

Neither of them are given the proper chance to respond to the bold comment, as suddenly Nanami’s approaching them, shooting Gojo a look that made the special grade sorcerer head off with some excuse about a fresh drink.

Thankfully, Nanami completely changes the subject of conversation, and Ino does his best to forget about what just happened as (y/n’s) properly introduced to his mentor. They shake hands, exchange a few pleasantries, but are ultimately quick to jump into conversation about Ino himself- even with him still standing there.

A lot of the stories they share are more embarrassing than he’d like, but he’s able to stand it for a little while. For both of them, at least. They were the most important people in his life after all, he’d been eager for them to finally meet.

But as soon as (y/n) gets Nanami to actually laugh about her first witnessing his cursed technique over an unwanted bug in the apartment, Ino finds himself using the same lame excuse of grabbing them a couple more drinks before he’s darting away from the downright humiliating memory.

(y/n) giggles and doesn’t even indulge Nanami in the story once Ino’s walked away. She’d just wanted to make him sweat a little, and clearly his mentor had gotten a kick out of it as well.

“He clearly adores you,” Nanami says, cutting through the light hearted atmosphere with a statement so genuine that (y/n’s) features soften as she takes in his words. “I’ll give him that. He’s a good sorcerer, and person. And clearly his judgment is well founded”

It’s a… distinguished compliment, that’s for sure. (y/n) finds herself blushing and she can’t even quite explain why. Was it the compliment itself or the insinuation behind it? Ultimately she decides to play it off due to the slight buzz she was running on.

“I’m certainly lucky to have him,” She says, and just as she glances around the room to see where he’d gone, he’s already heading back towards her with two drinks in his hands. “I owe a greater force big time for bringing me to him, don’t I?” She murmurs.

She doesn’t look back at Nanami when she speaks, her eyes too focused on the man headed in her direction. The blonde sorcerer ducks his head and tries to cough over his chuckling. It’s a pitiful attempt, but judging the glazed over look in her eyes as Ino comes near, he could probably count on her not having noticed his humored state.

“Thank you” She hums when Ino hands her the fresh glass, taking the empty one from her other hand and placing it on an empty table behind him.

“Did I take too long?” He asks, just quiet enough for her to hear.

There’s a look on her face he can’t quite read, but it’s so lovely he couldn’t even be bothered to try to decipher it as he smiles fondly back at her.

Nanami takes a subtle step backwards as he watches them mirror that lovesick look at one another.

“Not at all, I was just getting to know your mentor a little better,” She tells him, gesturing to Nanami, who had now turned and was walking away completely. “He has very kind things to say about you”

She tilts her head at him as her smile grows a little wider. Ino raises a brow back at her, unable to help the small bit of laughter that escapes him as he holds her stare.

“That so?” He hums, growing amused as he realizes she’s just a little bit drunk. “Are you having a good time?” He asks, and she knows he’s really asking if she’s feeling the alcohol a bit, but she nods back at him anyways, unbothered by the hidden question.

“I am, I’m glad you brought me”

His smile softens.

“Me too”

Utahime and Shoko return shortly after, and soon the four of them are seated at one end of the table sharing all sorts of stories, from work to drama to things they definitely didn’t need to share for being new acquaintances, (y/n) hit it off with the pair so well Ino didn’t want to do anything to reel her in. He was just relieved to see her getting along with the people of that part of his life.

It also helped that throughout the night she seemed to draw closer and closer to him. Whether they were walking up to the bar and she kept so close their arms brushed together, or when they sat down and she pulled her chair close to his so that when she was leaning into the table she was reaching across his lap and almost completely in his space. Ino could almost pretend that she was his date for the night. He’d weakly mustered up the courage to drape his arm over the back of her chair, but that was as much of a leap as he was willing to take.

Not long after though, she raised her empty glass in his direction, and her free hand reached over her shoulder where his hand dangled off her chair, so her fingers could wrap around his.

“Another?” She hums curiously, still swirling the glass in a small circle.

His hand unintentionally twitches when her soft skin brushes over it, and as if on instinct, she slots her fingers between his.

She’s touched him before, of course, it’s not like he’s never had skin-to-skin contact before. When patching him up, or bumping into each other in the kitchen. One thing was certain, though… they never held hands.

And she holds his hand now with that pretty smile on her face as she waits for him to answer her question- wait, shit, how long has it been since she asked him that question?

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get another round” He agrees, and carefully slides his chair back before standing, not wanting to bump into hers.

Even when she stands, she keeps her fingers curled between his. Ino’s not sure if she’s even aware of it- should he pull his hand away? Or perhaps she was just a bit drunk and didn’t want to stumble in her heels- so keeping his hold on her would be the right thing to do, right?

She gives Shoko and Utahime a cheeky little wave before following beside Ino towards the bar. Their hands still clasped together between them. He wonders if she knows that she’s making his heart race at an unhealthy pace.

But she must know, she must realize she’s still holding it, because once they approach the bar and wait for their drinks, she’s lazily swinging their conjoined hands back and forth as she strikes up a conversation with him.

“This is much cooler than any work event I’ve ever gone to,” She tells him. “It’s always at a chain restaurant, and there’s a socially acceptable amount of drinks you can have”

Ino chuckles at the slight pout on her face, and finds himself giving into the slight swing of their arms. “This stuff barely ever happens,” He shrugs. “Probably because most people can only take Gojo in concentrated amounts,”

Her eyes are wide as she nods at him in understanding. In the brief interaction she’d had with the special grade sorcerer, she already completely understood what he meant.

“But if this doesn’t end in disaster and there’s a chance for another one in eight to eighteen months, you’re invited” He teases.

She lights up like a christmas tree, as if he’s just promised her tickets to a sold out tour of her favorite artist, or a seat on the next shuttle to the moon. Her lips curl into the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, eyes glimmering with her excitement and honor, and if Ino wasn’t swooning as hard as he was, he might’ve chuckled at the drunken delight.

“Really?” She gushes, eyebrows raising with her hope. “You will?”

A breath of a laugh escapes him as he nods, and she rocks on her feet momentarily, too giddy to stand still. He can’t help but reflect her grin back at her.

They’re handed their drinks, and finally (y/n) pulls her hand out of his. He tries not to show his disappointment. Before Ino can think of something clever to say, something that borders the line of teasing and flirting that he’s usually so good at tip-toeing over, someone else joins them at the bar.

Gojo Satoru on a regular day is a menace. Although Ino didn’t always mind, not like his mentor did. More often than not, he’d match the energy and get a good laugh in for the day. But at a work-social event? Gojo was insufferable. Ino had already decided this the second he’d decided to hit on (y/n).

Was he irritated for the right reasons? No. Was he actively trying to get over his feelings for his sweet, perfect, beautiful roommate? Maybe. Did that mean shit? Absolutely not.

He’s decided that as soon as Gojo purrs out another flirty line- which he’s bound to do judging from the way he’s currently looking at her- that he’s going to take her hand again and drag her away without a word. His heart starts to race in his chest from the anticipation, knowing that it’s soon to come once Gojo’s done chatting her up about how swell of time she’s having.

As powerful as he was, Gojo Satoru could be a bit predictable.

“You know, I could show you some pretty neat things at Jujutsu Tech if you ever wanted to learn more about sorcery,” He’s good at disguising his propositions as simple acts of kindness. Ino’s jaw twitches as it tenses, his teeth clamping down together. “I’m a really good teacher, you know”

“Oh?” (y/n) scoffs, she’s faster to react than Ino, and for being at a giggly-level of intoxicated, she plays off her scoff as playful as she quirks an eyebrow up at him. “You should probably save it for your students, then,” She says, and Ino fights the urge to snicker. Not very well, though, it’s pretty obvious when he purses his lips and his eyes crinkle with humor. “Besides, I’m taken”

Ino does a full double take, the joy on his face falling and transforming into one of utter bewilderment. If (y/n) notices the reaction, she chooses to ignore it, too busy staring down Gojo with a pointed smile that seemed sweet but screamed get lost instead.

Gojo doesn’t seem remotely offended by the bomb drop of a refusal. In fact, he almost looks amused by it. He grins from ear to ear as he nods back at her in understanding.

“Of course,” He murmurs, his gaze finally shifting towards Ino, only for a moment, before it’s focused on (y/n) again. “I wasn’t trying to offend” He says, and it’s genuine.

(y/n) beams.

“You didn’t”

With that, Gojo nods again, and then he disappears again. Off to mess with someone else, they suppose. Ino’s pretty sure Nanami was left unattended and he’s likely the next victim. If the situation wasn’t so pressing, he’d probably rush off to save his mentor from the torment.

Sorry, Nanami.

“Taken?”

He turns to (y/n) with a look on his face that makes her brighten up. That cute look of confusion mixed with curiosity, she just had to bask in the adorable way his brows would pinch then relax, then pinch and relax, as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. She giggles, her smile turning toothy as she lets him baffle himself for a few seconds longer.

And then, in that soft, saccharine voice, she murmurs up at him.

“Well, I sort of am, aren’t I?”

The night didn’t last much longer after that. Once Shoko and Utahime were tapping out and slowly leaving the venue so as not to be bombarded by anyone- Gojo- (y/n) clung to Ino’s side a little more, and grew a bit quieter as it got later, her buzz turning into sleepiness.

It wasn’t until Nanami made his departure that Ino decided to call it. The only other people who were still in for the night were the managers who didn’t know when to quit.

(y/n’s) leaning back in her chair, working on drinking a second glass of water and hardly paying attention to the conversation happening around her. She’d pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her wrap, but she let the material stay draped over her shoulders. Ino was convinced that she might fall asleep right there in her seat.

In the last couple of minutes, he’s glanced over to find her staring at him five or six times. Eventually he can’t hide the way his smile betrays him, and he mumbles a ‘what?’ under his breath at her.

She giggles back at him, airy and carefree, before she leans over to brush a lock of hair that curled around his ear. A noticeable blush dusted over his cheeks as soon as her finger grazed his skin, even though the motion is just her drunken form of platonic affection, she leans so close that he can smell her perfume, and even once she’s tucked the piece of hair behind his ear, she lingers there for just a minute longer. The lump in Ino’s throat is too large for him to talk through, so all he can do is hope his eyes aren’t ridiculously wide as he stares back at her, before she settles back in her seat again.

He thinks he might cancel his upcoming haircut appointment. Even though it’s length was starting to get a bit annoying, he might try out the longer hairstyle for a while. And if (y/n) continues to reach out to give it a little tuck behind his ear then that would simply be a minor bonus, wouldn’t it?

It dawns on him after he spirals on the thought for a while that the night should be wrapped up soon. It was time to get back home where he could chug some water and hopefully forget about how much he’d embarrassed himself tonight.

“Hey,” Ino murmurs, tapping the back of her hand gently to get her attention. Her eyelids are heavy as she glances over at him, a small smile gracing her lips. “You ready to go home?”

(y/n) wakes up a bit more at that, nodding her head and tucking her arms through the sleeves of her wrap.

They slip out not long after that. Ino keeps his arm around her waist, murmuring something about keeping her upright that he’s not even sure she hears before she’s leaning against him, slowly walking along the sidewalk on their way to the train station. The walk and ride home is mostly silent, but it’s comfortable. He wouldn’t ask for anything else, as long as she was tucked into his side like she belonged there, like he was made to hold her like this.

He’s not sure if the heaviness in his heart is because he’s so full of love, or if it’s because he knows deep down that this would be the closest to having her as his as he could get. Nonetheless, he keeps his hold on her secure until they’re back in the safety of their apartment.

“Thanks for the fun night, Ino,” She murmurs after kicking her shoes off by the door. “Let’s definitely do it again sometime, ‘kay?”

He can only manage a small smile and a nod of agreement back at her.

“I better get to bed, I’m going to pass out,” She lets out a tired little laugh, but before heading off, she steps closer to him, hand reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. Again, he gives her a smile, about to bid her goodnight as he usually does, but before he can say anything, she’s leaning up and pressing her lips against his cheek.

She kissed him.

He blinks, and she’s already pulled away, still smiling before she’s headed off to bed with a quiet goodnight hanging between them.

Needless to stay he stands at the door with his shoes still on for embarrassingly longer than necessary, his fingers ghosting over the spot on his face her lips had just blessed.

He was set back a few paces in his whole getting over her plan, tonight. In fact, he might’ve been knocked all the way back to square one.

Oh well, there was always tomorrow to try again.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“You should really make a move on that roommate of yours, you know”

Nanami’s sudden advice has Ino swiveling his head away from lunch, nearly giving himself whiplash as he stares at his mentor in shock. They hadn’t even talked about the event last friday, so far their talk today had been strictly work related.

(Except for when Ino saw a cat across the street while on a patrol and he insisted that Nanami named the stray before they went on their way. That was less-than work related)

“What?” The word comes out in a mere squeak, disbelief evident in his twisted expression, but he’d heard Nanami perfectly clear. The man nods again, chewing thoughtfully on his food before swallowing, and continuing on with his moment of advice.

Nanami didn’t often feel the need to give his pupil guidance outside of jujutsu sorcery. Ino was quite capable of taking care of himself, for being a young man with an odd form of income, he’d always taken care of himself well.

Now, however, the 7-3 sorcerer felt the need to involve himself with this one. And he wasn’t afraid to tell his apprentice that he was being an idiot.

“She’s a quite lovely young woman,” Nanami continues, and Ino already feels himself begin to blush. “It was a pleasure to meet her. I can see why you like her so much”

Ino gives a shaky nod, still suspicious of where this was all headed, and why Nanami was pushing him to make a move- or so he’d said.

“Yeah…” Ino agrees unsurely. “(y/n’s)... great”

Nanami hums as he nods his head, adjusting his glasses before sitting up straighter in his seat, giving Ino an unsettling amount of direct attention.

“She’s clearly infatuated with you,” The blonde sorcerer says bluntly. “So what’s holding you back, hm?”

Ino opens his mouth, but when an excuse doesn’t immediately come to mind, he shuts it again. He gapes a few more times, and Nanami is patient as he waits to hear whatever terrible excuse he comes up with, but eventually it becomes clear that Ino’s been stunned into silence, so Nanami takes over again.

“You’re a capable young man, Takuma. Whatever is holding you back, it’s time to let go of it. I only had to talk to her for a few minutes to know that that young lady is in love with you”

Ino’s still gaping like a fish, but as the words sink in, he snaps his mouth shut, and swallows the lump in his throat.

“What- uh- why are you telling me this?” He stammers out.

Nanami sighs softly, a small smile gracing his lips. It was heartwarming to see the shy young love blossoming before him. At least, when it wasn’t obnoxiously ignored by Takuma.

“Because it’s obvious when you two look at each other. Usually that means it’s time to fess up”

“Wait wait wait,” Ino put his hands up, leaning over the table they shared as he wrapped his mind around the sudden advice. “Are you giving me… romance advice right now?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Nanami grumbles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “But you’re ignoring it”

“So you agree it’s romance advice-”

“You love her, don’t you?” Nanami interrupts him then, brows raised pointedly as he waits for the confirmation. It was a simple yes or no question, wasn’t it?

When Ino shuts his mouth and swallows hard, Nanami accepts that as answer enough.

“Then don’t you think you should tell her?”

“I…” Well, he couldn’t exactly argue with such sound advice, could he? And he certainly wasn’t about to argue with the mentor he respected beyond belief. “I just don’t want to ruin a good thing” He admits quietly.

Now, even his ears feel like they’re on fire with the admission.

“And if you never say a thing and eventually she moves on to someone else? You wouldn’t regret your choice?”

Ino frowns. He should have known Nanami was only going to hit him with logic.

He finishes his lunch quietly, a silence settling between them as Nanami feels as though he’d said what he needed to say. Ino was clearly thinking it over pretty hard- seeing as he was making his thinking face throughout the rest of their lunch break- and now all Nanami could do was hope his words would stick.

At the end of the day he wanted to see his pupil happy. Takuma Ino was a good egg, and he deserved happiness.

It would also help if he didn’t have to sit through another event where they made heart eyes at each other for two and a half straight hours. But mostly that first thing.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ino’s nervous when he approaches the door of his apartment that evening. It was a nice night, his final assignment didn’t go too late, and he made it home at the early early time of seven p.m.

When he does unlock the door and let himself inside, it’s not a surprise to be instantly greeted by (y/n), who grins at him from the kitchen.

“Ino!” Her smile stretches from ear to ear when he walks into the apartment. She’s in the kitchen, wearing the silly but cute duckling themed apron she wore anytime she was in the kitchen, even if she was only using the toaster, she’d put that apron on.

So cute, he sighs as he leans back against the door, at a loss for words. So domestic. (y/n) looks puzzled by him staying at the door without coming in all the way, or saying hello.

With a concerned knot between her brows, she drops the utensil in her hand on the counter, and makes her way towards him.

“Ino?” She calls worriedly. “You alright?”

“Yeah- yeah, I’m fine, just tired, s’all” He stammers back, finally pulling the beanie off his head and dropping it on the small table they keep by the door, then kicking off his shoes.

(y/n) frowns.

“Long day?” She lets out a sigh, then wraps her arms around herself as she awaits whatever terrible thing he has to share.

Jujutsu sorcery wasn’t always about unique talents and powerful people, she’d learned quickly. She’d seen Ino return home with a weight that only failing innocent people could place on his shoulders. Tonight, she assumes that the lost, glazed over look on his face is due to something of the sort.

“It’s not like that,” He says as he watches her expression sadden. Ino forces a quick smile as he shakes his head at her. “Don’t worry about it”

She doesn’t look at him any different, still frowning, still waiting for him to tell her what’s on his mind.

“I am worried,” She murmurs gently. She doesn’t want to push him, but she needed him to know that she was there for him if he needed to get something off his chest. “Did something happen-?”

“No- no it’s really not…” He tries to explain to her that his anxiety tonight has nothing to do with work, but he doesn’t yet know how to tell her that it had everything to do with her. He wasn’t sure how she’d take it. Wasn’t sure if it would come out right.

Growing more concerned by the second, (y/n) takes a larger step closer, her hands reaching out for his out of instinct. He flinches slightly when she first takes hold of them, but he lets her. He lets her squeeze onto them and pull them close to her.

“If you need to talk about it-”

Ino doesn’t like the way she looks at him like she could break just thinking he was in some sort of pain. So before he can refine the words in his mind, he blurts out what had been plaguing him.

“What did you mean the other night when you told Gojo you were taken?”

It does the trick, because her expression morphs instantly. She’s staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, lips still parted around the rest of her question that she now drops completely. It catches her so off guard that she’s dead silent for a few seconds.

“And then you said you sort of were- what does that mean?” Ino’s prepared with another question, and she worries he’ll keep piling them on before she could come up with the proper answers for them.

Her face feels warm, and a nervous smile spreads on her lips, followed by a small chuckle that dies in her throat. It’s a cute sound, anxious, but cute nonetheless. It makes the corner of Ino’s lips tilt upwards upon hearing it. It was a natural reaction, smiling whenever she would laugh. He couldn’t help it. Seeing her happy, even in a state of nervous energy, set butterflies free in his stomach in a way he hadn’t felt since his childhood.

“I… I meant…” She’s stuttering, voice failing her the longer his honey brown eyes are staring into hers. “You know what I meant” She finishes the thought quietly, barely under her breath.

He softens, and then melts before her. His hands squeeze her with the smallest amount of force, barely there, but enough for her to feel it.

She’s blushing, her cheeks a rosy shade of pink that’s so lovely he almost can’t stand it. He leans towards her, watching as her eyes grow a little rounder upon the close proximity.

“(y/n),” He murmurs, so soft she wouldn’t have caught it if the syllables of her name didn’t brush against her skin with his breaths. “I need you to tell me, alright? Because-” He pauses, his eyes flickering between hers for a moment, and she swears they dart down to her lips before raising to her eyes again. “- because I need to know I’m not seeing things and- and making them up before I do something stupid that I can’t take ba-”

“How stupid?” She cuts him off, pressing closer, as if it could get her an answer faster. It might work, because she barely finishes the question before he’s replying.

“Very stupid” He breathes through the words, like it pained him to even say them.

The faintest of laughs fall from her lips, before she tilts her head and gazes up at him fondly.

“Who knew you thought twice about stupid things before you did them?” She teased. It’s so soft, so sweet, that he cracks a smile. It washes away all of his nerves, and his stupid idea doesn’t seem so stupid anymore.

Tugging on her hands, he pulls her closer to him, until she’s practically tripping into his chest, but he doesn’t care when they collide unceremoniously. He’s already letting go of her hands so that she can brace them against his shoulders, steadying herself, and just in time before he’s cupping her face in his hands and slamming his lips against hers.

As sudden as the kiss is, (y/n) meets him with the fervor of a long awaited passion. Her hands squeeze his shoulders, latching probably too tight but if it hurts he shows no sign of pain.

His lips are so soft, despite being chapped and his kisses being rushed, they were so gentle against hers that she could feel her knees wobbling. He’d probably tease her for it later, but right now she couldn’t care.

He kisses her like they only have a limited amount of time. As if they’re not at the entryway to their shared apartment. His hands slide from her cheeks to the sides of her head, into her hair, holding onto her with a firm grip- as if she’ll slip away from him at any moment.

But the truth was, this was heaven. She could stand here and kiss him and be kissed by him for hours. Days, even.

He only pulls away from her when his body has him gasping for air, chest heaving, lips hanging open as he pants, she has to giggle just a little bit at his desperation. Even if she matched it as well.

Their noses are still pressed together, and their hands remained latched onto one another as they both caught their breath. Ino shares her laughter once the haze over his mind clears up and the reality of what they just did sinks in.

“So,” He mumbles, heavy eyes finding hers, making her fight the urge to steal another kiss. “Stupid?”

With a smile she tries to bite back, she shakes her head at him.

“No,” She murmurs back. “Not stupid”

Dinner is forgotten on the counter, going cold the longer it remains that way.

Ino beats her to another kiss. It feels like ages as they stand at the door embracing one another, kissing in between fits of giggles and sweet confessions, and kissing just to kiss.

He understood exactly what she meant when she’d said she was taken. Because, well, he sort of was too. Long before now. His heart was stolen the day she responded to his ad, and with it their fates sealed.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s better than i ever even knew // they say that the world was built for two // only worth living if somebody is loving you // and baby now you do. ]

#takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #ino x reader #ino takuma x reader #ino takuma #takuma #ino #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagine

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honeycloudz · 2 years

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Sleepy Rindou is the Best Rindou

Content Warnings: mention of lingerie, Rindou is only slightly a perv but in the silly goose way, brief mentions of Bonten, Rindou calls you princess, neck kisses, cuddling

Edit: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS <33 OMG I NEVER EXPECTED IT TO GET SO BIG!! IM WORKING ON A SANZU ENEMIES TO LOVERS SERIES, CHECK IT OUT IF YOUD LIKE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT <333

You had been lying on the luxurious couch of you and Rindou’s shared apartment for what felt like days awaiting his return. He had warned you about his less than peaceful job when you two became official. Rindou didn't give you details but it didn't take a genius to figure out what he did for a living to support the both of you. Almost a year into your relationship he asked you to move in and quit your job, his reasoning for this was ‘his princess deserves only the very best treatment’, you had laughed at this, declining to quit your job but agreeing to live with him. He was overjoyed at the thought and less than a week later your lease had ended and you began moving your things into his expensive flat. He had taken a few days off work to help you move in. Unpacking seemed tedious but Rindou made sure to make it fun due to the fact he finally had the time and attention that you usually didn't get because of his occupation. Rindou made sure that he was the one to unpack all your lingerie which made you less than amused. Unpacking everything you owned took almost a full week and Rindou knew as soon as he got back to Bonten’s Headquarters he would be swamped with work. Which meant overtime for him.

You felt guilt over this but he assured you that, ‘he would take an infinite amount of overtime if it meant he could hang out with you for a few days’. Here you are now, endlessly checking the clock which now reads 2:04 A.M. laying on the couch awaiting his arrival as the dinner you cooked sitting on the table gets cooler by the minute. You groaned getting up from your comfortable position on the couch to package up the food you and him were meant to eat tonight. As you were tin foiling the food you heard the jingle of keys and the click of the door opening. You smiled to yourself in relief knowing your lover got home safely another night, always on edge and anxiously awaiting his return due to his dangerous job. You heard tired footsteps slowly approaching. You turned your head till your eyes met a very tired Rindou, you tried to hide your giggle when you noticed his hair sticking up in different directions, his collared shirt unbuttoned, the dark circles under his eyes and his slouched posture. You turn your head back around to bring your focus back to packaging up the cold food but as you were about to greet him you felt warm hands snake their way around your waist and your back being pressed against his chest. You feel short kisses going up and down your neck and the ticklish feeling of his lips on your skin makes you let out a small laugh. While you're giggling you feel him smile against your neck which makes you turn around to face him, smiling. You look him in the eyes and take in just how tired he looks. You're both enjoying this silent peaceful moment of holding each other chest to chest when you take one of your hands that was wrapped around his torso and bring it up to his face where you trace your thumb over his cheekbone. He groans and leans into your touch and you use your other hand to lead him to the bed and set him there. He's now half asleep laying on the bed still fully dressed in his work clothes and the sight makes you hold in a laugh. Just as you're about to turn off the lights and go back to the kitchen to finish up your work he grabs your wrist and you let out a squeak when he pulls you down into bed and holds you tightly against his chest. You hear his tired deep voice rasp out a quiet “sleep well princess”. His deep voice makes your cheeks warm up as you do your best to hide it. You think he didn't notice this but he felt the way your face warmed up against his chest but fortunately for you, he's too tired to tease you about it so for now he will just pull you closer to his heart. He tucks your head under his chin while one of his hands is tracing lines up and down your back and the other arm is under your waist holding you close. Soothing nights like these with you, he will cherish till the end of time. His last thought before he dozes off is of you and how much overflowing love you both have for each other.

a/n: IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH I WANT BONTEN RINDOU SO BAD, also thank you for the support on my hanma and ran fics i really appreciate it and im glad yall enjoyed <3333

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godisshook · 1 year

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Enemies with Benefits

Ryder is the absolute worst.

We had once been inseparable. High school sweethearts, we navigated the tumultuous waters of adolescence together, supporting each other through thick and thin. Our breakup was a result of years of me fighting for feelings that he stopped reciprocating. The final straw came when I found out he had cheated on me in my freshman year of college. I decided then and there to end things and refused to speak to him for the rest of the year.

There was just one issue with all of this: we lived together. We went to the same college, and so made the "great" decision to live together our first year. Even worse, I had renewed my lease with him shortly before I caught on to his cheating, meaning I had to live with him for another year. After the breakup, the living room became Ryder's new home, and I dreaded going in there. Ryder wanted to ensure I was miserable, so he always left the house a mess. I resented him for it, with only the thought of me getting to move as far away as possible from him helping me get through the days. For months, we had ignored each other, refusing to acknowledge the painful history we shared. The air in our one-bedroom apartment was thick with tension, and I sought to avoid him at every turn.

With summer rolling around, I stayed in the apartment, not having much to do back at home. My saving grace came as Ryder said he would be on vacation, and wouldn't return until summer ended. At least I would have a small reprieve from his presence, and most importantly, I was able to claim the bedroom back. I enjoyed my months of peace as if they were my last, taking advantage of the peace and quiet to get work done and deep clean the entire apartment. The days flew by as I enjoyed both time by myself and with friends. The cooling summer air would serve as a reminder that the fun would soon be over. With Ryder arriving tomorrow, I decided to have one last party, taking special care to make sure my partygoers messed up Ryder's stuff specifically, getting some revenge on the way. Satisfied with the mess I had caused, I escorted my guests out for the night, and slept well, enjoying my final day of relaxation.

The sound of keys jangling at the door woke me, as the immediate realization of what those keys meant crushed me. With the sound of bags and shuffling now getting louder and louder, I decided to simply remain in the room, refusing to speak. As he finally reached the bedroom, a series of light knocks would hit the door. With it swooshing open, Ryder said, “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” laying down his backpack. "I really wish I could say the same." I immediately replied, a stoic look on my face. As he goes in for a hug, I shuffle to the other side of the bed and say "You're letting the light in." It was clear he was not anticipating that response, but as he gathered himself, he replied, "I really do miss you." His thumb grazed the curve of my cheek, caressing it gently, his touch both tender and possessive. In response, I let out a soft, breathless moan, showing my weakness.

In my defense, it was a moment of vulnerability, and we had hooked up now and then. Even though we weren't on speaking terms, it was impossible to resist that body of his, and so we would occasionally do it. However, it was only a few times, that I can promise.

While I didn't believe his words for a second, I couldn't help but notice how different he looked. I didn't anticipate his changing demeanor, but this new Ryder gave me a strange hope. A guy whom I had always regarded as a slob was now well-kept and dressed. I still hated him from the depths of my soul for what he did to me, but I was far more willing to be amicable with him if he was choosing to be better. Living together had its challenges, but it also brought back memories of our shared history. We had both grown since their breakup, pursuing our own lives. But beneath the surface, a lingering connection remained.

Late one night, Ryder would return home from work in an obviously bad mood. I was lounging around, watching TV, and upon his return, got ready to leave, unprepared to acknowledge the fact I gave in yesterday. I sighed, saying, "If you want something to eat, there's some food in the fridge or whatever." He stopped walking and faced me, his expression changing from apparent frustration to an appreciative smile.

Opening the fridge, he said, "Sorry for looking so mad, I just had a long day." I replied flatly, "We aren't dating, you don't have to explain yourself to me." This reply clearly struck a nerve in Ryder, as he simply stood up, and walked towards me. His eyes locked onto mine with a smoldering gaze, conveying his desire without a single word. The magnetic pull between us was palpable, igniting the air with an electric tension that neither could deny.

It was moments like this that were dangerous. He knew exactly what made me tick and exploited it whenever he could. Trying to feign ignorance, I innocently asked, "Why are you so close?" Ryder, now inches from my face, would finally make his intentions known. "Take me like you used to." His irresistible gaze made me fall apart, and I found myself unable to pull myself away. My fingers found the edge of Ryder's shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to trace the contours of his chest, reveling in the warmth and strength that lay beneath. Lifting it up, I silently went down a path of no return.

His breath hitched as I slowly helped raise his shirt, desire lighting up in his eyes. With our lips tantalizingly close to each other, I couldn't resist the temptation any longer. With a slow, deliberate movement, I leaned in, my lips brushing against Ryder's. It was a whisper of a kiss, a tantalizing tease that left us both breathless.

Now Ryder would take the initiative, getting closer as he kissed all around my neck. Ryder's strong hands roamed my body, igniting a desire that had been dormant for too long. His touch was both possessive and tender, a silent declaration that he had missed this, missed me.

With a barely audible sigh, our lips met again. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first, but it quickly deepened into something more passionate. Our lips moved together hungrily, and our hands roamed each other's bodies, reacquainting themselves with the familiar terrain. It was like the dam holding back all of our desires had burst open. Ryder's strong arms enveloped mine, pulling me in closer, while my fingers found their way to his broad chest once more, a feeling of safety coming over me as our bodies came close to each other.

I pulled away, breathless and flushed, Ryder led me to the bedroom, as we continued to explore each other's bodies with a hunger that had never truly disappeared. In the heat of the moment, our clothes became an obstacle we couldn't tolerate, and as soon we were naked, our bodies pressed together in sweet ecstasy. It was slow and intense as if we were making up for lost time. The room filled with the sound of our sighs, and the air heated up as passion mixed with desire.

"Let me fuck you," he said, a mischievous look coming over his face. Finally snapping out of my trance, I replied "In your dreams." Putting my clothes back on, I took my pillows and marched down to the living room. I didn't just give in to him once, but twice. Just living together and ignoring each other was not going to work. As I dozed off on the couch, I decided that I had to end things for good.

As I woke up that morning, I concluded that I needed to get things done. The plan was simple; firmly say things are over with Ryder, and tell him I'm moving out. My bags were partially packed, but since I couldn't get my things from there, I didn't have access to the bedroom for the night. Steeling myself, I walked over to the bedroom, with the music getting louder and louder as I ventured down the hallway. With my first knock being met with nothing, I knocked harder and was met with shuffling from the room, which indicated my knocks were heard.

As the door swooshed open, I was met with Ryder and a wave of steam. As the wave of hot air hit my face, memories of warm showers together and foggy mirrors filled my mind. Coming to it, I finally looked at Ryder. It was clear he was fresh out of the shower, and as my face scanned his chest, my blush gave away my emotion at the moment. Catching this, Ryder said, "Is there something you wanted, or did you just need to see me?"

My plan immediately went sideways as I got flustered, unable to get a single word out. Taking advantage of this, Ryder would whisper in my ear, "If you want me again, just say so." His husky voice in my ear sent me trembling, and the walls I had put up were crumbling each second. I had entered his room with the resolve to finally end things, to sever the connection once and for all. It seemed as if my plan dawned on him by the way I was knocking. He was calling my bluff, and it was working. My body would betray my thoughts, as I simply cried out, "I want you!"

Without warning, Ryder drew me into an intense, passionate kiss. I had no chance of resisting his hunger for me. It was like the dam holding back our desires had burst open. Our lips moved together hungrily, and his hands roamed down my body, reacquainting itself with the familiar terrain. I arched into Ryder's touch and gasped as his fingers dipped lower, exploring the sensitive territory that made my body quiver with desire. Removing his sweatpants, he sat on his chair, cock bulging in his underwear.

"Come and get it."

His words lit a fire in me, as I shifted up to him, and began feeling his bulge. Precum started to wet his underwear around the tip of his cock, and his dick pressed hard against his boxers. Teasingly, I slowly removed his boxers, and as his dick bounced up, it hit me straight in the eye. "Hey!" I said, shocked. He only shrugged, a sly smile on his face. With a smirk, I got to work, licking around his tip, as he threw his head back in response.

There was a familiar feeling to things, the way his dick fit inside perfectly, the way he knew exactly how to pleasure me, it was bliss. Our bodies fit together like pieces of a long-lost puzzle. Ryder's fingers brushed against the delicate lines of my face, while my hands explored the strong, sculpted planes of Ryder's back. In between thrusts, he said, "My cock feels good, doesn’t it?" I couldn't deny how he had been able to pleasure me, and I gave in. All I could let out was an ecstatic "Yes, more!" Maintaining his gaze, he continued pounding into me, each thrust sending me further and further to the edge.

Each stroke was a testament to the passion that had simmered beneath the surface for years. Ryder explored the valleys of my mouth with a mixture of revenge and hunger. Our breaths became labored, as their bodies moved in unison, a testament to our rekindled passion. Unable to take it any longer, a wave of pleasure washed over me as I came, with a moan escaping my mouth as Ryder continued fucking me.

As he held me in the quiet aftermath of our reunion, I could hear our hearts beat in unison. Keeping me in his embrace, he mumbled, "Sex smells great on you." I replied, "Mind saying that a little louder?" He smirked in response, as our usual banter flowed perfectly. Our intimacy deepened, both emotionally and physically, as we explored each other's desires and fantasies together. Many steamy nights were spent in each other's arms were filled with passion and longing, rekindling the fire that had never truly died.

#alpha men #alpha muscle #muscle #jock #bully #enemies to lovers

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ssahotstuff · 2 years

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Hi! Sorry if it's too soon after my last request but I loved the innocence kink fic and it got me thinking about the complete opposite and how about Hotch with a dumbification kink? I just think he'd love the fact he could render her dumb just by playing with her body

This was so fun to write!

Warnings: oral, fem receiving, unprotected sex, dumbification kink, Aaron calling the reader a ‘slut’ in the most endearing way possible, cursing

Word Count: 1.9 k

Aaron was not blind to the effect he had on you. It caused his heart to beat faster, his head to spin. You had become a permanent fixture in his life nearly a year ago, the two of you living together after only six months. Aaron had asked you to move in when your lease was up, and he hadn't regretted a day of living together. You took care of him in every way, and he was so lucky to have you. He hadn't been looking for anyone, but you'd fallen into his lap at the perfect time, and he was smart enough to know that women like you didn't come around often. He had known you were the one after your first date, and you only confirmed it the more time you spent with him.

You made Aaron a bit cocky. He didn't want to admit it at first, but the way that you acted when things got sexual had boosted his ego in a way he'd never imagined. You made him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof, and he still wasn't sure how you managed to do it.

He'd just brought you home after a night out with his team, and the tension had been high since you left for the evening. Aaron couldn't keep his hands off of you, which you didn't mind one bit, soaking up every bit of the attention like a siphon, and Aaron was happy to give it to you. Aaron had found it so easy to be affectionate with you in public—there wasn't a seconds worth of hesitation when it came to holding you close, or kissing you right in front of everyone. He knew your love was too precious to take for granted, so he wanted to show you nonstop that he was thankful to be around you. You were equally as touchy, which made Aaron secretly giddy. Before you, he'd been so touch starved that it was a shock to the senses to be in your presence. You always wanted to put your hands on him, whether it was in the car or out with friends.

The entire evening, Aaron had been focused on your soft curves, the way your tits sat perfectly in your dress. Every time you spoke, his eyes trained on your luscious lips, the way they wrapped around your straw as your drank. He couldn't wait to get you home to see your mouth in action in other ways. He'd pretty much taken the first available opportunity to leave, and he knew you were thankful for it. You'd wanted him just as bad all night, confirmed by the way you'd snuck off to make out with him shortly after you'd arrived. Now that you were back home, there was no reason to hold back, which is why he'd taken the chance to grab you by the hips as soon as you crossed the threshold into the house, moving your hair out of the way so he could suck hickies onto your neck.

"Been wanting this all night," you murmured, turning around to meet his mouth, fingers laced around his collar, pulling him closer. His brain went white hot as your tongue crept into his mouth, his hands reaching up to cup your tits through your dress. He groaned, ducking down to pepper your chest with kisses as his hands disappeared under your dress.

"Needy for my cock, sweetheart? All I could think about was getting you home," he admitted, your panties swiftly being rolled down your thighs as he helped you step out of them. He left them in the floor, opting to remove your dress next, letting it crumple at your feet. Your bra came soon after, his first instinct to take turns sucking at your nipples; his tongue swirled around them one by one, your skin littered with goosebumps as the heat of his mouth made you shiver.

Your fingers dexterously worked at the buttons of his black dress shirt, something he'd worn on purpose because he knew how much you loved him in black. Once his shirt was out of the way, his T-shirt was next, yanked over his head at record speed. Your hands wandered over his chest as he sucked in a breath, heart still beating rapidly every time you touched him. Within seconds he was scooping you up and carrying you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed as if you were weightless so he could finish undressing. His cock was strained against his boxers as he made his way to the bed, yanking your legs apart as he crawled between them.

"Going to fuck you with my mouth since you were such a sweet girl all evening. I know how much you love to come on my tongue," his words ignited something primal within you, something that left your mouth dry and your thighs clenching together before he'd even had a chance to touch you.

"Love it so much," you whined as he licked a stripe up your soaked center, humming in delight as he finally got to taste you. Aaron enjoyed it just as much as you, spending far more than a usual amount of time between your legs—as far as you were concerned, he was an expert, knowing exactly how to make you go wild, and most of the time, he didn't even have to try. It took mere minutes for you to fall silent except for the occasional whimper of his name, Aaron's lips curling into a devious smirk as he looked up at you.

"Nothing to say now that you've gotten what you wanted?" You shook your head, indulging him further when he began to suck furiously at your clit, eliciting a string of profanity from you in response as you saw stars, your orgasm taking Aaron by surprise as his arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you in place. He continued lapping at your dripping core, fueled by desire and the intention to give you more orgasms than you'd ever experienced—he was on a mission, and he wouldn't be moving until he'd succeeded.

They came like clockwork after the sixth orgasm, your legs shaky and unreliable, your body rigid against the mattress. You weren't sure how you hadn't melted into the comforter as relaxed as you were, and Aaron's smile only grew wider every time you came, hastily encouraging you to do it again. With every swipe of his tongue, the slack in your jaw grew wider, your mouth in an ‘o’ shape as you came unglued over and over again. Aaron’s ego was astronomical, his smile nearly uncontainable as he peered up at you through his long, dark lashes. You struggled to remember a time you’d ever seen someone so undoubtedly gorgeous; he was it for you, and you’d realized it a long time ago. Aaron had a way of turning you to putty, you fell apart under the mercy of his touch.

“Dirty fucking girl, making a mess in our bed. Oh, but look at how pretty you look, even when you’ve lost your words,” his lighthearted teasing had you smiling back at him, running your fingers through his hair as he eagerly devoured you—you’d never seen him so focused, so determined to make you unravel. You could barely hold your eyes open, your voice long gone, but Aaron was content despite the ever growing erection in his boxers that he was willingly ignoring, all for you.

After more orgasms than you could keep track of, he was pulling you towards the edge of the bed with haste, licking his perfectly pink lips at the sight of your core glistening for him. This was Aaron’s favorite part—your gentle sigh as he slid into you, the way your eyes closed as he bottomed out in you. Aaron had the ability to bend you at will—when you were in this sort of headspace, you’d do anything he asked. He’d never take advantage, he was too much of a gentleman, but when your eyes went hazy and you fell silent, Aaron knew that you were sunk. You’d told him numerous times that you’d do whatever he wanted, but he hadn’t wanted to push things too far—now he was thoroughly convinced you’d been telling the truth. You were always so ready for him, spreading your legs as quickly as you could so he could slip into you.

Aaron let out a shaky breath as you squeezed him like a vice, your pussy clenching uncontrollably as he stretched you to fill you up. He took his time, watching his cock throb as he pressed into your warm, wet pussy, made just for him; he’d never take a second of you for granted. He was smitten with the way your eyes rolled back, your tongue between your teeth as he started to move. He slammed into you without warning, causing you to let out a pitchy moan that was music to Aaron’s ears. It made him drill into you harder, hooking his arms behind your knees and dragging you closer, his strong arms holding your lower half up so he could find a new, delicious angle to fuck you. The two of you sighed in unison as he found his home in you, your lips swollen and puffy from being between your teeth. Aaron came forward long enough to cup your face lovingly, tilting your chin to look up at him.

“You take me so well, baby. My pretty little cock slut, absolutely ruined now that she’s being fucked,” he growled, his words filled with nothing but love and lust. He loved the stupefying aftermath of how you were a couple of orgasms into the night, your lips pouty as he fucked you into the mattress, fists full of the comforter in your hands to keep you from shouting to the ceiling. He could make love like no other; you’d never need another sexual partner as long as you had Aaron, you’d always be perfectly satisfied.

“Yes, baby. Can’t even think straight,” you managed to sputter, and aaron thought you looked so adorable in that moment that he couldn’t help but to come forward and kiss you, even though you didn’t have the energy to kiss him back properly. He could feel your orgasm coming quickly, the muscles in your legs growing tight as the pressure began to build. Aaron knew he’d cum as soon as you did, unable to hold back as you constricted around his cock, and he was absolutely right— as soon as you reached your high, aaron finished in you with a groan, his own legs shaky and unreliable beneath him as he pulled out of you. His first order of business was to clean you up, and you didn’t bother moving the entire time. You didn’t change locations until he was done, nestling into the pillows with a cute little sigh. Aaron felt the heart eyes forming as your own eyes fluttered shut, you looked absolutely wrecked in the best way possible. Your eyes were glassy, your hair a mess on your head as you patted the bed, encouraging Aaron to join you.

“Come here, sweetheart. You look exhausted. My girl had such a tiring night,” he pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead as he rubbed your bare back, knowing the repetitive movements would put you to sleep in no time.

“Mhm, you always take such good care of me,” it was true, Aaron went above and beyond to take the most special care of you at all times, but especially after sex. He knew you were too exhausted to eat or else he would’ve already retrieved you a snack, but you’d rather cuddle up next to him and have his body close to yours.

“And I always will,” he promised you, pulling the blanket up around your body so you could get some much needed rest.

Master tags: @wheelsupkels @periodtcevans @hausofwhores @criminallyobsessedcm @tojithesourcerkiller @fireworksinthesky

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #hotch smut

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teyums · 1 year

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okay so i can see this idea in my head SO well, but i’m not a writer. i love your writing so i really hope you’ll somehow be able to put this together. 😭 can i request #3, #7, #11 and #17 from the modern au prompts, with Lo’ak? So ig like a mini fic where reader is super annoyed by Lo’ak and the fact that they live together but is slowly starting to like him and it shows through how she acts! i’m srry if it’s too much </3

ofc sweetie, dw i see your vision! honestly, the modern au prompts do require some background since the setting is switched, so throwing a few of them together at once is a perfect idea.💗 this was fun to write, i hope it’s to your liking! sixth commission for the party. wc: 1,724

Human!Lo’ak x fem reader

prompt: #3, #7, #11, and #17 from modern au prompts

warnings: none!

It had been a little over a month now since you and Lo’ak found out that your supposed ‘temporary’ lease, wasn’t so temporary.

If someone had told you that you’d be living under the same roof as the youngest Sully brother, you would’ve looked at them like they were crazy. But back then when you made the decision, rent was ridiculously high, and you needed a roommate as soon as possible— just until you could catch up on your bills.

You’d asked almost everyone in your contact list to sign in on your lease before you’d picked up the phone and called him. And though he was a last resort, Lo’ak was someone you knew fairly well. Him and your brother were pretty good friends back in highschool and had him over pretty often, so scribbling your signature at the bottom of the contract next to his hadn’t worried you at the time.

It was only for three months, anyway. Or it was supposed to be. Then before you knew it, three months turned to four; four months into five.

And as each day went on, you were beginning to realize things about him that you could not stand, as if your life wasn’t annoying enough. Kudos to your shitty landlord.

If there had been an award for irritating the hell out of you, Lo’ak would have the trophy displayed on the shelf above his bed.

You were someone who liked to keep a very neat space and you hated when even a single thing was out of order. And Lo’ak, as chaotic as he is, was exactly the opposite.

You’d find lone pairs of his socks in the living room, on the couch, and even once— on top of the fridge.

“Lo’ak, for the love of God, stop leaving your dirty socks in my kitchen!” You’d yelled that day, barging into his room and dumping the armful you’d found around the apartment, down onto his startled figure.

He’d been laying in his bed with nothing other than boxers on before you kicked his door in, yet he made no move to cover himself, and you made no move to drop your gaze towards the toned abs on his stomach, even though you wanted to.

Luckily, you were able to pass off the flush of your cheeks as unbridled anger in that moment.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Jeez, someone’s got their panties in a twist.” He’d held his hands up on either side of his head in mock surrender as he spoke. Your eye had twitched so hard, you were almost certain it’d get stuck like that.

It aggravated you to your core how he’d constantly blast music with zero regard for the fact that your rooms shared a wall. And when you’d bang your fist against the thin barrier between you, telling him to turn it down, he’d respond by kicking the volume up a few notches to drown out your yelling.

Or other times, when he’d perch himself on the couch in the living room, as if he didn’t have his own room. It wouldn’t be an issue if he actually used the tv, wasn’t perpetually shirtless, or careless to the fact that you liked to invite your girlfriends over pretty often. And to make matters worse, he’d even made a pass at one of them one day, and she’d actually blushed. Gross.

“You are aware that you have your own room, right? Why the hell are you always sitting here?” You snapped, and they’d tore their gazes from each other, both looking at you with puzzled expressions as if you’d overreacted.

Maybe now, you see that you did, because after they’d left he told you he could’ve sworn he saw the steam puffing from your ears.

And yes, while these were seemingly insignificant things, you couldn’t help how much they ticked you off.

But what irked you even more than the random socks you’d find in the kitchen, or his childish antics that had you turning on the captions to your shows, were the little moments where you’d found yourself… caring about him.

“What do you mean you’re going to be away for a week?” You’d asked that day, arms crossed as you leaned your back against the countertop.

“It’s just a fishing trip my dad forces me and my brother to go on every year. Trust me, I’d get out of it if I could.” He scoffed out a laugh, and watched as you nodded and shifted your gaze off to the side.

“Wait a minute,” He quirked a brow and your heart skipped for some reason when he inched closer. He leaned both hands against the counter, on either side of your hips and effectively caged you between his arms. “Why do you care?” He tilted his head.

The two of you were face to face while his eyes searched yours for an answer. He hadn’t even touched you but for some reason your legs nearly turned to putty.

You were quick to come up with an excuse and kept your arms folded over your chest, though the subtle flush of your cheeks contrasted terribly with your reasoning.

“Oh, I don’t. I’m just making sure I have all the details so I can cherish the days while they last.” You quipped.

“Mm, alright then.”

His lips puckered slightly and his head turned when he nodded, but it was clear he didn’t believe you. You tried not to make it obvious when you heaved out a breath you’d been holding once he retreated back to his room.

You thought you were in the clear, until you’d heard his voice project from down the hall.

“I leave tomorrow, try not to miss me too much!”

It’d already been a month since that odd exchange between you two, yet the memory clouded your mind every time you tried to deny the odd feeling that made your stomach flip.

You figured a moment like that was just a fluke, something you could easily brush off and leave to your forgotten memories. But now, it‘s well past midnight, and Lo’ak still hasn’t come home. And for some reason you’re still awake with that same fluttering feeling, except this time it’s worse. You’re unable to sleep because you’re actually worried about him.

You’ve checked his location at least five times and you’re resisting the urge to bite your nails off as you pace the small confines of your room. The small ‘L’ you’ve been staring at on your screen hasn’t moved from its spot on the map in the last hour, and you‘re seriously starting to get scared.

What if something happened to him?

After a brief moment of contemplation, you decide the only way to calm your nerves, is to swallow your pride, and just call him. Lo’ak always picks up your calls, so if he didn’t this time, maybe you wouldn’t feel so ridiculous for assuming something was going on. Maybe then, you wouldn’t feel crazy for thinking the worst, for thinking that his car was somewhere upside down in a ditch-

*Click*

“Hello?”

Lo’ak’s slightly fuzzied voice cutting in from the phone held up to your ear has your spine straightening at attention. You blink a few times as your shoulders relax and place a hand over the fast beating of your heart, and it takes him repeating himself for you to realize you haven’t answered with more than a relieved exhale.

“H-hey, I haven’t heard from you in a while, and It’s almost one in the morning…”

There’s a pause before he responds.

“Yeah, I’m at my boy’s crib. I stepped away to answer your call, though. Is everything alright?” Perhaps you were mistaken, but he sounded the smallest bit concerned.

“Yes!” How fast your answer comes has you silently mouthing curses at yourself, and you repeat it, calmly this time with a clearing of your throat. “Yes, I’m fine. Just checking in.”

Another pause.

“Hold on, you-“ It was nearly impossible not to hear the shit-eating grin on his face through the phone as he spoke. “You miss me, don’t you?”

You’re denying his claim almost instantly.

“I do not!”

The sound of him chuckling on the other end has a smile curling your lips before you quickly get rid of it, along with the butterflies swarming your belly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon.” He jests.

You fake a gag and it only makes him laugh harder.

“Hell no, please, take your time. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t like… dead in a ditch, or something.” You murmur, the confidence in your tone dwindling with each word spoken.

“Oh, my apologies. So you care about me, then.” It’s not even a question, it’s a statement, because he already knows the answer.

“You know what, I hope you have your keys, cause I’m not letting your ass in again.”

“Wait-“

You hastily press your finger to the red X, tossing your phone from your hands like it burns as you fall backwards onto your bed.

“Yeah, I’m definitely an idiot.” You sigh.

And after only three steady knocks not even an hour later, the intensity of your bluff is made known when you open the door in nothing but a large t-shirt, to meet a smug Lo’ak standing in the hallway.

“Mhm, thought you weren’t gonna open the door?” He teases.

“Just get your ass in here, I’d rather not let everybody and their mother see me without pants.” And with a roll of your eyes and a grab of his wrist, you pull him into your shared apartment, shutting the door behind him.

You’re ready to call it a night and go to bed until he stops dead in his tracks, his back facing you before he turns on his heels. Your stance shifts as his eyes trail from your head to your feet, and shyness immediately takes over for a reason you’d rather not read deeper into.

“What?”

His head cocks to the side, then he answers.

“Is that my shirt?”

Your lids raise, eyes widening suddenly as you quickly drop your head to look down at the graphic t-shirt you’d mindlessly thrown on— though you vaguely recall realizing it was his the second you’d caught a whiff of how good his cologne smelled.

You go to scratch your head, mind racing for a way to explain why it was even in your possession, let alone on your body. Crossing your arms and acting nonchalant is the fastest recovery you can think of, and that’s what you go with.

“Well if you’re gonna leave your clothes around everywhere, then I’m gonna assume they’re free game.” You shrug and quickly shuffle past him, into the direction of your room, and you miss the way a knowing grin splits his lips.

Likes + Comments + Reblogs are much appreciated 💗

©teyums 2023

#— teyums’ 2k party #lo’ak sully #lo’ak x fem!reader #lo’ak x you #lo’ak x reader #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #lo’ak fluff #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak fic #lo’ak fanfiction #lo’ak x human reader #avatar twow

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charcorner · 4 months

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Welcome to Char Corner!

Hi there, fellow Char owners! My name is Astra, I use any pronouns but mostly she/they, and I raise Homo aznablii (also known as Chars) for a living! I have worked at multiple Char shelters, and own multiple Chars myself. Here's a quick intro to them!

(Plus, some tips I shared in the comments of a Strange Aeons video about clown husbandry:)

Mars

Male 0079

Age: 4

Mars is a new addition to the family. I picked him up from a Char shelter back in July. He was surrendered to the shelter after his owners couldn't take care of them. PSA: Purebred 0079s are not good starter Chars! They need constant stimulation to keep from engaging in the classic Char pastime of destroying everything in your home, along with 0079s needing to be disciplined regularly, (without force! please do not hit or yell at your char, as they will distrust you and be more likely to indiscriminately attack you. i like to use spray bottles) to actually make them listen to you. If you REALLY like 0079s but don't have any experience raising Chars, get a 0079/Quattro cross. While Mars can have an attitude sometimes and has tried to escape a few times when I let him outside for more than a few minutes, he's a really sweet Char. Fun fact: he's the same 0079 Char from the Garfield story I shared above

---

Hallie Jr.

Female Quattro/CCA mix

Age: 3

Hallie Jr. is one of the Char pups from the story I shared above. Her mother, a Quattro named Hallie, was one of the first Chars I raised, and was a general sweetheart. Sadly, last May, Hallie was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 17, and I had no choice but to end her life in a humane way. I'll never forget the day I took her home from the shelter all those years ago, and how she was so scared on the ride back home... Anyways, Hallie Jr. is chaotic. That's it. I remember when I first took Mars home and Hallie Jr. gave him a nice chomp on the shoulder. What a way to roll in the welcome wagon... She's also given me a few nips, too, and almost attacked another Char at the Char park (my pride and joy as a char owner. /s) Anyways, I always say that Quattros are the ideal starter breed of Char, due to their mostly-docile temperament. CCAs, however, need a great deal of training and socialization, which I know a lot of casual Char owners can't afford to provide. Sadly, this has led to many CCAs turning aggressive and getting the breed as a whole classified as dangerous in a lot of jurisdictions. (They're kinda like the "bully breeds" of dogs.)

---

Meteor

Male Full Frontal

Age: 27

While I normally do not condone getting Full Frontals due to the problems with the breed (see above), a friend gave me Meteor because they were moving to a place which did not allow Chars in the lease (an unfortunate truth in many places) and I couldn't say no. Even if he is getting on in the years (the average Char lifespan is 33 years), he is still one of the most amazing Chars I have ever taken care of. However, last month he started to become more lethargic and nipped me when I tried to pet him (an action he usually enjoys). I'm planning to take him to the vet soon to see what's up with him.

---

Ceres

Female mutt (with 0079 and CCA features)

Age: 1½ years

Last but not least, Ceres was a stray Char pup who was rejected by her mother. I found her in my front lawn in critical condition and I just had to take her in because I couldn't let a newborn Char die like that, and bottle-fed her and nursed her back to health. She's currently in her "teen phase" (Chars fully mature at 2 years old) and is starting to test her boundaries. She often gets zoomies and even scratched Hallie Jr. once (she's probably learned her lesson now). However, she's still as sweet as the day I took her in!

Random Char facts and tips:

Chars only started being imported to the western world in the past 25 years. Before that, they were popular pets in Japan and other East Asian countries, hitting their stride in the late seventies, although a small portion of Chars were imported to Italy around the early eighties in the hopes of starting a fad, although they never caught on back then.

CHARS AND CLOWNS DO NOT GO TOGETHER!! I've seen so many Chars get surrendered to shelters because they attacked or even killed clowns, one of their NATURAL PREY SOURCES. Come on.

Chars are facultative carnivores. In the wild, they prey on not only clowns, but also deer and other large herbivores. But domesticated Chars will still be as happy eating small animals such as live mice as they would chasing down a deer in the wild.

Please do not keep attack/guard Chars, especially CCAs. The training to turn them into one cannot be done in a way that does not involve abuse. Please get a functioning security system.

You may have noticed that Chars are horny AF. It's a survival strategy: Chars mate with anything and everything as wild mother Chars have a tendency to reject or even eat their offspring. Thankfully for Char breeders, domesticated Chars have had this behavior almost entirely bred out of them.

Chars are pregnant for 6 months and usually give birth to a litter of 4-9 Char pups.

Anyways, good luck in your own Char breeding and owning adventures!

~ Astra

#tw unreality #cw unreality #char husbandry #char raising #char breeding #char owning #char caring #mobile suit gundam #char aznable #charposting

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cvrnelians · 1 year

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if the fates allow - chapter three

dark!bucky barnes x reader: As could be expected, you were just a tad upset about having to spend Christmas in a mental health facility. On the brightside, you didn’t have to spend it alone. Your friendship with Bucky Barnes, another patient on the unit, brought you a certain level of comfort during your stay. When you are discharged from the hospital shortly thereafter—and Bucky is forced to remain—you promise him you’ll be his pen pal until he gets out, after which, you’ll meet for coffee and catch up.

But when things don’t go quite as well as Bucky had hoped, he takes drastic measures to ensure that you remain the integral part of his life he always envisioned you to be.

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, suicide attempts, and non-con elements. proceed with caution.

(gif is not mine)

chapter one // chapter two // chapter four // chapter five // chapter six

chapter three: eyes without a face

music

As far as you were concerned, there was nothing more comforting than being all snuggled up beneath a toasty warm blanket.

“You might want to get rid of that. It’s a fire hazard,” your father had said, and he was probably right. There was one hole in his argument, however: you loved your heated blanket. It had been a gift from your mother. You couldn’t just “get rid of it.”

March in New York rode the borderline between winter and spring, even after the equinox. You received an alarming amount of weather alerts and driving ban notifications while you were scrolling on your phone, bombarding you with warnings of the impending snowstorm. It was to be the worst to hit New York in decades, lasting a little over a week. There would be school closings and potential power outages and all the fun things that came along with bad weather. Your manager texted you that evening, informing you that you didn’t have to come into work for the next few days. Although you liked your job, you breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing you wanted to do was attempt to dig your car out of the snow or get stuck on the train—which was likely to have significant delays—for a minimum wage job at a coffee shop.

Since getting out of the hospital, things seemed to be looking up. Your dad talked you into breaking the lease on your apartment so you could live with him, which you hadn’t done in years. You were upset about it at first. You felt like you were being stripped of your independence, that he was treating you like a child, that you were a complete and total loser. And yet, it wasn’t hard to see that living alone after your mother’s death wasn’t exactly fruitful for your mental health and wellbeing. You thought the isolation would be good for you, that it would give you the time and space you needed to mourn.

You thought wrong.

Your dad gave you time to rest when you moved into his place, which came as a real shock. Your dad could be tough. You thought as soon as you arrived, he would be on you to get a job as quickly as possible. You thought that he would get annoyed with you after a week or two, that he would berate you for being lazy or overly emotional or whatever he felt like throwing at someone who was noticeably more vulnerable than he was.

You thought wrong.

He didn’t do those things. He didn’t even slightly do those things. When you wanted to sleep, he let you sleep. When you hadn’t left your room for a while, he would make you something to eat. When you seemed particularly down, he would ask you to watch a movie with him. It was truly mindblowing. You never knew kindness could feel so unnerving.

It was Saturday of the last week of March. Finally, you asked.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

It was too early in the morning to be talking to anyone, much less having a deep conversation with your father. But you had both been awake for hours. It was obvious, given how haggard you both looked, and the urgency with which you were barging towards the coffeemaker.

“What, do you pity me or something? Are you worried I’m going to try and kill myself again? Do you feel lonely after Mom died? Do you feel guilty? What is it, why am I here?”

He was quiet for a while. He motioned for you to sit down at the table, clearly insistent on making the coffee himself. For a while, you thought he wasn’t even going to respond. It wasn’t unheard of for him to simply gloss over things that made him uncomfortable.

Finally, he spoke.

“You’re here because you’re my daughter,” he said, pouring you a cup. “And I don’t want to lose you. And you deserve to be here.”

He set the mug down in front of you, turning back around to pour a drink for himself. You were completely and utterly stunned.

“And I love you.”

You took a huge sip of coffee, trying your best to avoid continuing the conversation. And then it suddenly occurred to you. All this time, you hadn’t even noticed. He had made your coffee just the way you liked it.

As luck would have it, you landed an interview for a barista position at a cafe not even two blocks away just a few days later. And when you got the call that you were hired, you were actually excited to tell him about it.

You started studying for the GRE, determined that one day—you had no clue when—you would finally take the necessary steps to get into grad school. Somehow, some way, you were going to do it. The only issue was figuring out what you were going to do. But you’d get there. That was what your therapist had been telling you, anyway. Your dad offered to pay for your sessions, so you wanted to get as much out of them as you could. You started heeding her suggestions to go on morning walks in the park. As loathe as you were to admit it, your little bouts of daily exercise truly did help clear your head. As it turned out, “self-care” wasn’t just a load of bullshit reserved for mentally well, functional people. As it turned out, you were just as entitled to feel as good and rested and restored and as healthy as anybody else.

The grieving process was a bitch, though.

You broke down crying more than once, sometimes at work. Each month created more and more distance from the last living memory of your mother. There were moments where you moved to pick up the phone and call her, completely forgetting that she was dead. You would wake up void of pangs of sadness or worry, only to be flooded with overwhelming emotions when you were fully coherent.

There were two significant differences between now and a few months ago, however. They were named Bucky and MJ, and they turned out to be pretty damn good friends. MJ wound up saving your number from the scrap of paper you had given her while you were hospitalized. Not only that, she actually contacted you like she said she would. Bucky was more than happy to include her on your little outings together. Who would have thought back when you were all at the lowest point of your lives that you would be bothering one another in a near constant group chat just a few months later?

Bucky seemed to hate texting. You could tell he preferred phone calls, but he would get incredibly defensive whenever MJ would refer to him as “an old man,” so he elected to remain part of the group chat. Deep down, you knew he liked it. He really was similar to a grumpy old man at times. You and MJ brought a bit of much needed levity to his life.

You were okay, for now. You hadn’t thought about hurting yourself lately. You just wouldn’t let yourself go there. You definitely needed to make some new friends apart from the ones you met in the mental hospital. Maybe read a book or two. Cut back on caffeine.

But you were okay. Things were alright.

You just hoped it would last.

☽

You woke up slowly, fading in and out of consciousness. You wanted more than anything to sink back into the pleasant dreams you were having. Your blanket had become more than just a warm cocoon. It was sturdy, protective, living, breathing. You began to feel a weight on your chest. Lips pressed up against your neck, kissing gently downwards until they reached your collarbone. Your eyelids were heavy as you registered an image of arms wrapped around you, one much colder than the other. Light from the snow streamed through the window, reflecting off of a metal surface. It was unmistakable.

“James?”

You could feel him smile against your skin.

“James?” you repeated.

“You’re dreaming,” he said, holding onto you tighter. “It’s okay. You can relax.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, although you weren't really sure what you were asking. Or why. And you weren’t really sure why Bucky was the one you were dreaming of. “It’s so warm...”

“Positive,” he chuckled. “Just close your eyes, okay? You want to keep dreaming, don’t you?”

You did as he said, shutting your eyes and snuggling up closer.

“I missed you,” you murmured. “In January.”

“Not February?” he joked.

“Januaryfebruary,” you murmured. You were finding it nearly impossible to speak.

He was quiet for a few moments, almost to the point where you had fallen asleep again. But then he spoke.

“I missed you too, doll.”

Your mind was drifting, weighed down by the warmth of the blanket and the cold air on your skin and, well…

Bucky.

“Go back to sleep. You need it. Don’t you want to keep dreaming?”

And so you did.

☽

Bucky didn’t like texting you. Partially because he thought it was impersonal, partially because he preferred to hear your voice. It was mostly the latter.

Navigating through your home unseen was no easy task. It required that he remain as quiet as possible, and talking on the phone with you didn’t really allow for that, so he bit the bullet and did what he had to do.

You’re not going to work today, are you?

He already knew the answer to that, of course. He knew everything. You were not. Even if for some reason you changed your mind or decided to go out and get groceries or something, you were not leaving your apartment. Nope. Not in the midst of such an insane snowstorm. It just wasn’t going to happen.

He would make sure of that.

Hiding in your closet (which was becoming a fairly regular ordeal, making him feel like a complete weirdo) allowed him to overhear your conversation with your father a few days prior, hitting him with both a strong sense of relief and a wave of anger. His jaw clenched at the idea of that pathetic excuse for a man speaking to you, of having the audacity to act like he cared.

Right. Like that asshole ever cared about you.

By now, it was clear to Bucky that your dad was going to be an issue for you, and for him. You had confided in him just the tiniest bit when you were in the hospital, and throughout your letters. You hadn’t said much, but it was enough to know that your dad was not a very nice man. Bucky also grew up as the child of an overwhelmingly destructive force. He could still remember those late nights when his father would come home drunk, acting like he was out of his mind. He would stumble through the door, loud and angry and all geared up to hurt someone, to hurt anyone. Even his wife. Even his children.

Even himself.

When his father died—when his father “killed himself”—Bucky felt numb. He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t angry. He didn’t cry, not once. Not when he went to the wake. Not when he went to the funeral. Not when he saw his mother and his grandparents and his little sisters cry for what seemed like forever. Not when Father’s Day rolled around, or his birthday, or any other holiday or major milestone where he felt like he should be grieving. Not when he found him, cold and lifeless on the bathroom floor.

“Found” him.

Right.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He was only sixteen then, but the rage had been there for as long as he could remember. Being witness to and victim of this insanity night after night…it had taken a toll on everyone, Bucky most of all. So much so that by the time he realized that he was big enough and strong enough and smart enough to stand up to the one person he despised most in this world, he decided he had to either go big or go home. And Bucky was never one to half-ass anything.

It was easy to justify to himself. This was the man that sent his mother into a full blown panic every time she didn’t have dinner on the table “on time,” which was unpredictable and ever changing. This was the man that terrified his twelve year old sister to the point where she tried to run away when she accidentally broke a ten dollar vase. This was the very same man that beat him with a belt when he accidentally left a light turned on in the kitchen overnight.

All things considered, it wasn’t hard to make it look like a suicide. Everyone knew James Buchanan-Barnes Sr. had some serious issues. Bucky’s family was devastated, but they were all-too-willing to accept that was what happened, that it was simply his father’s doing.

It was strange, though.

They all looked at Bucky differently after that. They treated him differently. They were nicer, maybe even a bit reverent. He had become the man of the house, afterall. Although still grieving, everyone seemed much more relaxed when he died. His mother slept for a week straight. Bucky would bring her food and water on rotation, but she never so much as stirred when he entered the room.

He remembered it clear as day.

It was an early morning, still dark. Bucky had situated himself at the kitchen table, having made himself a bowl of cereal. He liked to get up early and have a quiet little breakfast by himself. He would watch the sunrise if he remembered to come up for air while he was eating. Peace and quiet was much easier to attain when his father was no longer around. He felt someone place their hands on his shoulders, startling him. He was ready to turn around and swing at who he, for a split second, assumed was his dad. But it wasn’t.

“Y’know, Buck,” his mother had said, giving his shoulders a light squeeze. “I haven’t slept like this in a very long time.”

As a person who had hurt people, Bucky knew a predator when he saw one. Because, loathe as he was to admit it, he sort of was one.

Your father was a killer, too. That wasn’t hard to figure out. Bucky knew almost instantly, even before he decided to do some digging. He wasn’t the most tech savvy guy in the world, but he knew how to use google. Your mother’s death had been investigated for months until it was determined to be a suicide. Even Sam knew about it, it was kind of a big story locally. Bucky just knew that man murdered your mother, even before he overheard one of several repulsive phone conversations your father had with his girlfriend about the situation. You still had no clue about her, about everything that had gone on behind the scenes. That, like the rest of this “good guy” act he was putting on, was no accident. He seemed to feel genuinely guilty that you were struggling so much without your mother, but what good was that guilt now?

There was a key difference between killers like Bucky and killers like him. Your father was no wolf. No, not at all. Your father was a fucking snake, and Bucky needed to get you away from him.

Before he realized that you had fallen back asleep---in spite of waking up to have coffee earlier that morning----he sent another text.

I really hope you’re not. But if you are, I can give you a lift. My car is built a little tougher than yours.

He thought he saw you move a few times through the crack in the closet door, and assumed you were just scrolling through your phone. But no, you were dead asleep.

Passed out, more like it.

It made him wince, knowing that he was part of the reason why your sleep schedule had gotten so messed up. It made him feel…gross. Even the word “drugging” made him feel sick to his stomach, even though he knew that was exactly what he was doing. He hated feeling like he was taking advantage of you when you were at your most vulnerable, like he was disempowering you. He knew what that was like, and he never intended to live out that trauma with someone who didn’t deserve it. That was the exact opposite of what he had been trying to do.

But he had somewhat good, if not selfish, reasons for it.

Bucky had a prescription for Xanax. He was supposed to use it to help with his anxiety and his panic attacks. He only got a small amount per month. They were hit or miss as far as effectiveness went, at least for him. But for you, they worked like a charm.

Every. Single. Time.

Whenever he had the opportunity to sneak into your apartment (which was more often than he ever even intended), he would pour the crushed up pills into whatever you were drinking. He tried to only do this in the evenings, for three main reasons.

1. You had trouble sleeping, and he wanted to help. You were always so tired and rundown. It couldn’t have been good for you. He just wanted you to feel good when you woke up. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

2. He wanted to make sure that you were safe, that your father wasn’t going to come into your room during the night and kill you, too…which probably wasn’t going to happen. But he wanted to be sure of that. You would never have let Bucky into your room like that if he told you any of this, you never would’ve believed him. He needed you unaware of his presence so he could keep watch without making you feel uncomfortable.

3. He wasn’t sure how crazy you would be about the prospect of him lying in bed with you, but it was all he had been wanting to do for the longest time. And he knew you wouldn’t have let him if he asked, and he was struggling to control himself.

He just loved you so much, and he wanted to be there just in case something happened to you and he wanted to know what it felt like to hold you at night and he loved seeing you look so calm and serene and at peace and it wasn’t like he had done anything that bad, it wasn’t like he had touched you, really, not really, he wasn’t some pervert or something but he loved the way you curled up into him and how you relaxed and went back to sleep when he asked you to and how his hands looked—how his ring looked—against your skin and how it felt when you would fall asleep on your stomach and he would rest all of his weight on you and kiss the back of your neck but he didn’t want to scare you, he would never, ever ever want to scare you but he was so much older than you, old enough for MJ to call him old and so unstable and he had hurt people, he had killed people, and you must’ve known something was wrong with him, everyone knew something was wrong with him and you would’ve said no, you would’ve said no and h—

Bucky wasn’t the most tech savvy guy. It wasn’t unusual for him to forget to turn down the volume on his phone. But he was no idiot. He had been a military strategist, for god’s sake. And yet, Sam was calling.

And it was loud.

Loud enough that it echoed off the closet walls. Your closet walls. Bucky was frozen in place, scrambling to silence his phone and willing himself to somehow melt into the floor.

And you were awake.

☽

@repostingmyfavs

#yandere marvel #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #yandere bucky barnes #yandere bucky barnes x reader

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 3 months

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Crossroads ch.7

Javier pena x female single mom reader

The golden light of late afternoon filtered through the windows of Y/N’s cozy living room, casting a warm glow over the space. Elle was sprawled on the floor, coloring in her favorite coloring book, while Y/N sat on the couch, her feet propped up and her mind racing with an idea that had been forming for weeks.

Javier’s lease was coming up on his house, and Y/N had been toying with the notion of asking him to move in with them. They were already so intertwined in each other’s lives, spending most nights together and growing even closer with the impending arrival of their baby. It just made sense to take this next step, but she wanted to approach it in the right way.

Y/N glanced at Javier, who was sitting at the kitchen table, going over some work on his laptop. She took a deep breath, deciding it was now or never. She walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Javi. Do you have a minute?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

Javier looked up from his screen, smiling as he took her hand and pulled her to sit on his lap. “Always, mi amor. What’s on your mind?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Well, I’ve been thinking… your lease is coming up soon, and I know you’ve been considering what to do next. I was wondering if you might want to… move in with us?”

Javier’s eyes widened in surprise, and then his face broke into a wide, joyful grin. “Are you serious?”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yes, I am. We’re already so much a part of each other’s lives, and with the baby coming, it just feels right. I love you, Javi. I want us to be a family in every sense.”

Javier’s expression softened, and he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. And I would be honored to move in with you and Elle. There’s nothing I want more than to be here with you both, every day.”

Elle, hearing their conversation, looked up from her coloring book and grinned. “Does that mean Javi is going to live with us all the time?”

Y/N and Javier both laughed, and Y/N nodded. “Yes, peanut. Javier is going to move in with us. How do you feel about that?”

Elle jumped up and down with excitement. “Yay! I love that idea! We can play together every day, and he can read me stories every night!”

Javier scooped Elle into his arms, hugging her tightly. “I can’t wait for that, princess. We’re going to have so much fun.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about the logistics of moving, making plans, and sharing their excitement. Y/N felt a sense of peace and happiness settle over her. This was the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in their lives.

As the sun set, casting a warm, rosy glow over their home, Y/N, Javier, and Elle sat on the couch, cuddled up together. They talked about their hopes and dreams for the future, their laughter filling the room.

A few weeks later, moving day arrived. Javier had packed up his things, and with the help of a few friends, they managed to get everything loaded into a truck. Y/N had prepared the house for Javier’s arrival, making space for his belongings.

Elle was buzzing with excitement, darting around the house and helping in any way she could. “Where should we put this, Mommy?” she asked, holding up one of Javier’s framed photos.

Y/N smiled, taking the photo from her. “How about we put it on the mantel, next to our family photos?”

Elle nodded enthusiastically. “That’s perfect!”

Javier walked in, carrying a box labeled “Kitchen.” He set it down and wiped his forehead. “This is the last one. We did it!”

Y/N wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Welcome home, Javi.”

Javier hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Y/N. This feels so right.”

By evening, the house was filled with the cozy chaos of a family settling in together.

That evening, Y/N decided to celebrate their new beginning with a special family dinner. She cooked Javier’s favorite meal chicken enchiladas and set the table with candles and flowers. Javier, who had been helping Elle set up her toys in the living room, walked into the kitchen and smiled at the sight.

“This looks amazing, mi amor,” he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Y/N leaned back into his embrace. “I wanted to make tonight special. It’s our first dinner together in our home.”

Javier kissed her cheek. “Every day with you is special, Y/N.”

They called Elle to the table, and the three of them sat down to eat. The room was filled with laughter and conversation, and Y/N felt a deep sense of contentment. They were building a life together, creating a home filled with love and happiness.

After dinner, they moved to the living room for dessert—ice cream sundaes, Elle’s favorite. They piled on the toppings, making a delightful mess. Elle giggled as Javier put a cherry on top of her sundae.

“This is the best day ever!” she declared, her face smeared with chocolate sauce.

Y/N laughed, her heart full. “I’m glad you’re happy, peanut.”

As they finished their sundaes, Y/N glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late, sweetie. Time to get ready for bed.”

Elle pouted but didn’t argue. She was clearly tired from all the excitement. Y/N and Javier took her upstairs, helping her brush her teeth and get into her pajamas.

Elle whined that she wanted Javier to read her a story before bed. Javier chuckled and willingly accepted. He chose one of his favorites, "The Little Engine That Could," and read with enthusiasm, making all the voices and sound effects. Elle’s eyes sparkled with delight as she listened, her head resting against his arm.

When the story ended, Y/N and Javier tucked Elle in and kissed her goodnight. “Sleep tight, princess,” Javier whispered.

“Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Javi,” Elle murmured, already drifting off.

Back downstairs, Y/N went to pop some popcorn. “How about we celebrate our first night with a Suits marathon?” she suggested, smiling at Javier.

“That sounds perfect,” Javier agreed, setting up the TV.

They ended up eating two bowls of popcorn and indulging in some ice cream, binge-watching the entire season of Suits. Wrapped up in each other’s arms on the couch, they felt a deep sense of contentment.

“This is our life now,” Y/N said softly, looking up at Javier. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

Javier kissed her forehead. “Me neither, mi amor. This is just the beginning.”

As they drifted off to sleep, wrapped up together on the couch, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, as a family.

The sun shone brightly over the small suburban neighborhood where Y/N, Elle, and Javier lived. It was the weekend, and Javier had the day off. Y/N decided it was the perfect day for a family outing to the local park. She packed a picnic basket with sandwiches, fruits, and Elle’s favorite snacks, while Javier helped Elle get ready.

“Javier, can I bring my new friend with us?” Elle asked, holding up a plush bunny she had received as a gift from Javier.

Javier chuckled and ruffled her hair. “Of course, princess. We wouldn’t want Mr. Bunny to miss out on the fun.”

Y/N smiled at the sweet interaction, feeling her heart swell with love for both of them. She finished packing the picnic basket and called out, “Alright, team. Ready to go?”

Elle cheered, “Ready!” and Javier gave a thumbs-up.

They arrived at the park and found a nice, shady spot under a large oak tree. Elle immediately ran towards the playground, her laughter echoing through the park. Javier and Y/N spread out a blanket and set up the picnic.

As they watched Elle play, Y/N leaned against Javier, feeling the warmth of the sun and the comfort of his presence. “This is perfect,” she murmured.

Javier wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “It really is. I love seeing you both so happy.”

They spent the morning playing games, running around with Elle, and enjoying the beautiful weather. Javier even joined in on the slides and swings, much to Elle’s delight.

“Look, Mommy! Look, Javi!” Elle called out as she swung high into the air.

“You’re doing great, peanut!” Y/N cheered, snapping a picture of the moment.

When they finally settled down for lunch, Elle sat between Javier and Y/N, munching on her sandwich and telling them all about her adventures on the playground.

“Javi, can we come here every weekend?” she asked, her eyes shining with hope.

Javier smiled and nodded. “We can certainly try, sweetheart. I love spending time with you and your mom.”

Y/N kissed Elle’s cheek. “We’ll make it a family tradition.”

After lunch, they took a leisurely stroll around the park, Elle skipping ahead and picking flowers along the way. Javier took Y/N’s hand, their fingers intertwining naturally.

“You know,” Javier said softly, “I never imagined I’d be so happy. You and Elle have changed my life.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes glistening with emotion. “We’re a family now, Javi. And I’m so grateful for you.”

They shared a tender kiss, the world around them fading away. elle ran back and hugged them both tightly.

“I love you, Mommy. I love you, Javi,” she said, her voice filled with pure innocence and joy.

“We love you too, princess,” they replied in unison, their hearts full.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena one shot #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier peña

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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 years

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bad communication | jhs x reader

summary: things between you and hoseok have been rocky, tiptoeing around each other for weeks, putting off inevitable conversations. what's the perfect solution? a new year's party thrown by kim seokjin. pairing: jhs x f!reader tags: some angst, drinking/swearing, everyone is an idiot, happy ending word count: ~7.5k a/n: i had previously put this on ao3 but i'm trying to move things over here to motivate myself to finish things

Things have been tense for the past several weeks, to say the least. You and Hoseok have been skirting around each other in your shared apartment for weeks, unsure of what to say, unsure how to fix the problems facing you. It feels quiet, where usually the sound of laughter is the first thing when anyone walks through the door. Even Mickey seems to know something is off and spends most of his time laying at either your feet or Hoseok’s, as if he’s trying to tell you something.

Here’s the thing. You and Hoseok have known each other for years, were friends for what feels like forever before you started dating. And neither one of you really thought about what that transition would look like, going from friends to a relationship. There was that time that you drank too much sitting around a firepit and your friends conveniently left you outside alone. It seemed odd at the time, until you met Hoseok’s eyes, the fire reflected back in them, and suddenly you were kissing.

One of your friends had come drunkenly stumbling back outside with more drinks and loudly announced that you two had finally kissed. And you just kind of brushed it off. You were drunk and that’s all it was, right? Everyone knew that you were an affectionate drunk, prone to lots of hugs, physical touch, and even kissing your friends. That’s why you told yourself that this wasn’t anything. You refused to acknowledge anything that could screw up the friendship.

And then, Hoseok called you the next day, asking you to spend the day after at the amusement park, which had been a weird ask. You loved everything about amusement parks, but Hoseok? Not so much. Rollercoasters, thrill rides, none of that was his thing. So, you thought it was weird, but you weren’t going to turn down one of your favorite things. Which is how it all started. You realized as soon as he picked you up that everything was different. This was a date. Hoseok took your hand, paid for tickets, swallowed his fears and went on all your favorite rides just to make you smile. It was perfect.

Which was the other thing about Hoseok, despite how long you had known him, Hoseok had never been the best about talking about his feelings. It was usually up to you to lead him into the conversations and get it out of him. The two of you had been acting like you were dating for weeks before you finally just asked him, point-blank, what was going on. There was no turning back, it was all in from there. You already knew all each other’s secrets, the embarrassing moments, the weird quirks, everything that you wouldn’t tell anyone else. You’d always been the one that pulled things out of him and made him comfortable talking about it all. That doesn’t exactly equal out to anything starting slow, though.

It had only been a matter of months into dating that your lease had run out on your apartment and Hoseok suggested you just move in instead. Which, honestly, he had a point, you spent almost all your time sleeping at one apartment or another. As long as there was enough space to retreat to when either of you needed some quiet, where was the problem?

So you’ve always known that Hoseok was more reserved with his feelings and his emotions. It’s deceptive because he’s one to make sure others are laughing, having fun, and enjoying themselves. You know, though, can always see it perfectly in his eyes, always know when something is bothering him and just what to say.

But you don’t know now. You can’t figure out what it is he’s thinking or why he’s been so quiet with you. He hasn’t wanted to go out with you when your friends call with plans. When it’s time to take Mickey out for a walk, he goes alone when you used to always go together. He wasn’t talking about work, or if there was stress caused by it. This behavior was the last thing you would have expected in all the years you had known him.

Any other night you would hate that Hoseok is working late on choreography. You know how the creative process works and sometimes that means that he doesn’t come home from the studio until the early morning hours. You hated to admit it, but you’re a light sleeper and it messes with your sleep schedule when he comes in at 3am. You don’t care that he’s out late, have no reason not to trust him, you just hate when it means it’s harder to fall back asleep.

For once, however, you’re thankful that it seems like another late night at the studio. That lets you call your best friend, Jimin, who agrees to come over with wine and take out before you even get the question out.

See, here’s the thing. You may know Hoseok better than anyone else in the world, but Jimin can also read you like a children’s book. He’s known that something was going on and only hasn’t stepped in out of respect to you and your relationship. He’s over in record time and you’re at the door the second that he knocks.

“Bad wine and greasy Chinese,” Jimin says, holding up the bag in one hand and a bottle in his other.

You step aside without another word and let Jimin inside. He knows where the glasses are, knows where to find the plates you like with takeout, and has everything you need when he moves to sit with you on the couch.

“Thanks for coming,” you say, forcing a smile.

“Let’s not pretend to smile, okay?” Jimin responds.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Chim, he isn’t talking to me and it’s so weird,” you say and try to keep the whine out of your voice.

“Which is weird since usually he doesn’t shut up,” Jimin says, but there’s really only affection behind it. He’s known the both of you for years too.

“You know what I mean. Something is going on and he won’t tell me what it is,” you say.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Jimin looks sympathetic but not insincere.

“Has he said anything to you?”

You know you’re reaching, that Jimin is your person and that Hoseok never confides in Jimin like that. But then there’s that whole thing about desperate times and desperate measures.

“Now, now, Pedal, you know Hobi never talks to me about anything real, especially when you’re concerned,” Jimin chides and the glare you throw him is unmatched.

“Park Jimin, I swear on everything you believe in, if anyone ever finds out why you call me that,” you begin, completely forgetting the serious conversation.

Jimin, in typical Park Jimin fashion, feigns innocence, eyes large as a doe. “You mean you don’t want me to tell everyone about the time you hit the gas pedal instead of the brake and reversed right into me?”

“It was an accident!” You feel like you’ve defended this exact position no less than 163 times in the course of your friendship with Jimin. “And I barely touched you.”

“I had to go to the hospital.”

“It was the doctor because you lost your footing and hurt your wrist breaking your fall.”

“It was a very serious injury.” Jimin is all serious and you have no idea how he was holding his composure. It’s infuriating.

“It was not! The doctor didn’t even put a brace on it and you laughed all the way there and back . I was mortified!”

The smile on Jimin’s face is smug. “The nickname sticks. Plus nobody gets it anyway. They all just assume it’s like a flower petal.”

“I hate you,” is the only answer you can muster.

“You don’t,” Jimin says confidently and finally takes an egg roll from the untouched Chinese food.

You take a moment to get some of the lo mein that Jimin knows you love before asking the real question you want an answer to. “Has he spoken to Yoongi?”

Jimin pauses and looks over at you. Whatever he sees must tell him how worried you are because his face softens. “Yoongi was helping him with a track for some new choreography, so they’ve been talking a lot about that. But if Hobi’s said anything to Yoongi about you, Yoongi hasn’t told me.”

None of this is new information. Hoseok is always looking for something new and different to bring to the table with his choreography. Yoongi, similarly, is always looking for more ways to get tracks he’s producing out into the world. So it’s only natural. And just like Jimin is your person, Yoongi is the same to Hobi. Yoongi seems to be the only other person that can ever see through the Hoseok facade to what’s really going on. You try not to let it sting that he might be speaking to Yoongi instead of you. It’s healthy, you remind yourself, to have friends other than your partner.

True to his duties as a best friend, Jimin steers you away from worrying about Hobi, sure that if there was something serious going on that Yoongi wouldn’t keep it from him. Yoongi might be soft-spoken, which you think is good for Jimin, but he’s not cruel. He cares about you too and wouldn’t keep a hurtful secret no matter how much he likes Hoseok.

You let Jimin control the TV, make you what he calls a proper plate of food so you’re eating something, pour you a very full glass of wine, and ramble on about what’s been going on at work for him. He’s a travel blogger and getting ready to go off on yet another adventure just after the new year, which he desperately wants you to join him on. This time, he’s headed to the small, beautiful island of Bermuda in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, nothing else around for miles. He’s going on about the crystal clear waters and the pink sand beaches and how you work from home anyway. Before you know it, you’re agreeing. Maybe it’s the wine, or whatever is or isn’t going on with Hoseok, but it sounds nice to get away. And, after all, the beach isn’t Yoongi’s thing as much as it is Jimin’s. Really, he insists you’re doing him a favor so he’s not alone.

The next few weeks before New Year’s seem to go by surprisingly fast. You know that it’s ridiculous and probably petty to have not told Hoseok about the trip with Jimin, you really do. It’s just that it’s never felt like he’s keeping anything from you like it does now and there’s a part of you that enjoys having a secret of your own. This, admittedly, is not really your favorite part about yourself. Hey, nobody is perfect.

Now it’s New Year’s Eve and you’re actually supposed to be heading off with Jimin in less than a week and you still haven’t told Hoseok that you’re going. Somewhere you register that this is bad, like genuinely a bad decision, but you tell that part to be quiet so that you can finish getting ready. Because it’s New Year’s Eve and that’s a worldwide holiday when you’re friends with Kim Seokjin.

Jin’s New Year’s Eve parties started as a way for him to overshadow Taehyung’s birthday because that’s just who Jin was. He hated the idea that any other person could be born the same month as him. So, if he throws a larger-than-life party the day after Taehyung celebrates his birthday, well that’s just a coincidence, he’d argue. Over the years, though, it’s morphed into everyone’s favorite party, a chance for everyone to get together and enjoy themselves. The rivalry between Jin and Taehyung is long forgotten now. Well, mostly.

You’re twisting your body this way and that to look in the mirror, examining the dress. It’s sparkly and tight with a deep v. Even though the rivalry is long gone, Kim Seokjin still expects a certain dress code for his parties and so you had let Jimin pick something out. This wasn’t really your thing normally and it definitely wasn’t your thing when you were worrying about your relationship.

“You look amazing,” Hoseok says from the doorway.

You catch sight of him over your shoulder in the mirror and your heart constricts. You always find him attractive, but this is entirely different. His black suit is fitted and the top buttons of his black dress shirt are left undone. You’re suddenly wondering if you need to go to the party at all, maybe you can just stay here and work it all out instead. There’s always been something about the sight of him dressed up like this that scrambles your brain.

“You too,” you finally managed to say, turning to face him properly.

And there it is again, that look that crosses his face that you don’t know. Like there’s something he wants to say and holds back. You hate it.

“We don’t have to go, you know.” You make the offer as if hoping that maybe it’ll lead to figuring out what’s going on.

Hoseok only shakes his head and gives you a genuine smile. “You look absolutely stunning and I’d like to go enjoy the night with all our friends.”

You let out the breath that you hadn’t been realizing you were holding. Part of you had really wanted Hoseok to agree to stay home, to at least acknowledge something was wrong, to admit that you knew him well enough to know that things were off. He hadn’t. And you had no idea why you were taking it so personally, like somehow it was an insult, but you were.

So, fine, you thought. Two could play at this game and you would go to the party, looking great, and have fun with your friends. If Hoseok didn’t want to tell you whatever it was that was wrong, that was his business. You aren’t stupid and he knows you’re not stupid. Then again, you also aren’t passing up on the chance to go to a party right now and get out of this funk. Or, at the very least, get a little drunk.

The upside to you taking longer than usual to get ready is that everyone is already at Jin’s when you and Hoseok show up. Well, almost everyone. Jimin and Yoongi are noticeably absent. Not that it’s surprising, there are few things Park Jimin loves more than attention and making an entrance is a great way to accomplish that.

What started as just smaller parties with your immediate friends expanded as Jin’s home got bigger. He wasn’t stuck in his shoebox of an apartment anymore, he had been able to afford an actual house from all those ridiculous Made for TV movies he signed up for. You know better than to bring it up, though, because you don’t want to hear the latest plot that sounds oddly like the one before it or listen to someone (usually Yoongi) make fun of him the rest of the night. Jin in a bad mood during one of his own parties was not something you wanted to experience again, thanks.

You and Hoseok aren’t one of those couples that needed to be attached to each other at parties. You’re both fairly social and while you have a lot of friends in common, you also know different people. Besides, the last thing you had ever wanted was to become a singular entity, no telling where Hoseok ended and you began. So, it’s a good thing you can carry your own separate conversations during the party.

Except things have been different. Except Hoseok hasn’t been talking to you the way he normally would. Except as you watch him talking to someone you don’t recognize and watch as he laughs, you feel like you’re missing out.

And he just goes on, like everything is normal and there’s nothing at all weird about any of this. He catches your eyes on him across the room and smiles, a genuine smile, the one that’s reserved just for you.

That should reassure you and in some fucked up way, it makes you angrier. He’s smiling at you like everything is fine, but he must know it’s not. So, what’s the smile, then? Just a way to make it seem like things are fine? A way to cover whatever is off?

“Everything okay?” The voice breaks through the argument you’re having and you realize, belatedly, it must be clear on your face that something is wrong.

You turn and find someone you hadn’t noticed, nor would you have expected to see. Hoshi. The one choreographer that Hoseok seems to have a near constant issue with. At some point you think it might’ve just been friendly competition. The world, after all, is small. You know that it hasn’t been friendly in awhile though, at least not as far as Hoseok is concerned.

The right thing to do is to turn away, just smile politely, say you’re fine, and seek out a friend to speak to, maybe Taehyung, who you’re sure is around here somewhere. The right thing to do would be to excuse yourself from speaking with someone you know your boyfriend hates.

But, here’s the thing, you’re stubborn too and you’re feeling a little bit hurt about everything that’s happened the last however many weeks. And you figure, what’s the harm in spending a few minutes speaking to someone at a party? It’s just a few minutes. You’re just going to be polite.

At first, Hoshi is surprisingly easy to speak to and you think, okay, there are worse ways to kill time at a party. He actually wants to hear what’s been going on with you and how work is. (You know Hoshi, have hung out with him before when it was more just friendly competition rather than rivalry, so it’s not unexpected that he’d ask those things).

You genuinely do lose track of time and the conversation flows easily, so there’s really no reason to excuse yourself because you don’t want to be rude and there hasn’t been that awkward lull to the chat. Well, no good reason other than Hoseok’s eyes boring a hole through the back of your head. You can feel his gaze, you don’t turn around to confirm it. And you sense the change in Hoshi’s demeanor too which tells you he’s seen Hoseok. He gets a little more smug, a little too confident.

You know you have a choice, but with a fresh drink in your hand, you can also admit it may not be the best situation for you to make the right choice. So, you just stay there, laughing too hard at things Hoshi says which really aren’t that funny, putting your free hand on his arm. Honestly, at this point you really don’t even know what Hoshi is saying, if any of it is funny, you’re just sick of feeling like you don’t know what’s going on.

It isn’t until you feel a presence at your side that you finally look away. You know before looking it isn’t Hoseok, you can always sense where he is in a room, like you’re drawn to him. It is Jimin, though, and you realize how thankful you are to see him.

The party takes a definite upturn with Jimin steering you away from the conversation with Hoshi and over towards Yoongi and Jin, who are animatedly arguing about something. Well, Jin is animated and Yoongi looks like he’s getting a headache.

It doesn’t take long for Hoseok to wander over once you’ve joined your mutual friends and wind his arm around your lower back, pressing a kiss to your temple but not saying anything. His body feels tense and you wonder if it’s because of you talking to Hoshi or something else entirely.

The conversation quickly turns to what people have going on in life and work, which Jin, being Kim Seokjin, takes as an opportunity to bless them with stories of his latest project and what it’s like working with his costars. Which, honestly, you know. It’s all the same general cast of characters and even if the actors change, they all seem to do the same sorts of things and you feel like you could recite the stories as if you had been there.

“I don’t want to hear anymore stories about Gone in a Flash , it’s enough that we’ve already had to watch it multiple times,” Yoongi comments.

“If you’re going to reference my projects, the least you could do is use their full names,” Jin huffs and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“ Gone in a Flash: A Holiday Romance ,” Yoongi says. “But, honestly Jin, it’s a Hallmark movie, isn’t the holiday romance part implied?”

“First, I got you to say the full name, so I’m taking that as a win,” Jin says, the look of superiority unmatched. “And second, if you’re saying all the movies are the same…”

“I am,” Yoongi cuts in.

“Well I don’t see you affording this big house we’re having this very nice party in,” Jin retorts.

“What’s everyone else up to?” Hoseok asks to cut off an argument. “Jimin, any trips coming up that’ll make us all jealous when you post pictures?”

“Yes, actually!” Jimin nearly squeals. “I’m off to Bermuda next and I’m so glad I convinced Pedal, here, to come with me. It’s going to be so much more fun this way.”

Hoseok goes completely rigid and he turns to you. You see the range of emotions in his eyes, hurt, anger, shock, disbelief, all of it. You want to look away, but you can’t.

“You’re going to Bermuda?” Hoseok asks and there’s no mistaking his anger in the quiet of his voice.

Jimin’s eyes go wide at the question and his hand flies to his mouth. He had clearly assumed that you had said something. That would have been the rational thing to do. Which is exactly why you didn’t do it. There’s nothing rational about the way you’ve been feeling. You hate that Jimin walked into it like that, though.

“Well, he asked and you know how much I love the islands,” you say and try to keep it casual, like it doesn’t matter.

“We’re not doing this here,” Hoseok declares and takes hold of your arm, hard enough so there’s no mistaking that you’re going with him, but still gentle enough that he doesn’t hurt you.

Hoseok pulls you off to another room within the house and you follow without a word. You know he has every right to be mad, pissed, actually. But he’s not the only one with a right and you’re hoping maybe this is how you get answers.

The rest of the party carries on with Jimin looking ghostly white at the development, left with only Yoongi and Jin. Jimin, who always has something to say, seems to be lost for words.

“What just happened?” Jin asks.

“I don’t...know,” Jimin wonders.

He’s saved from having to say anything else as three of their other friends, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon make their way over. Taehyung immediately informs them he’s seen Hoseok leading you off to a quiet part of the house and wonders what exactly happened.

“She was upset! What was I supposed to do?” Jimin asks, frantically trying to figure out how to salvage the situation.

“Invite her to Bermuda and tell her not to tell her boyfriend , obviously,” Jin quips.

“I never said she shouldn’t tell Hobi! I just...she was upset and I knew Yoongi couldn’t go and so it was like two birds, one stone, you know? Plus her and I have the best times on islands,” Jimin says.

“I distinctly remember the last time you and her went on an island vacation, she nearly ended up in jail,” Namjoon says, eyes narrowing.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Jimin cuts across with a wave of his hand.

“And you came back with a sugar daddy,” Namjoon finishes.

“I wonder how he’s doing,” Jimin muses before catching Yoongi’s glare and cutting himself off.

“You know, I don’t really support her not telling him she was going, but I’m Team Jimin for this one,” Taehyung muses. “His heart was in the right place.”

“We’re not taking sides, Tae,” Namjoon says, already sounding exhausted.

“I am decidedly not Team Jimin,” Jin announces, ignoring Namjoon.

“What side are you then?” Taehyung asks and Jin shrugs.

“Just not Jimin. I’ll take whichever the other side is. Team Joon, maybe?” Jin offers.

“Don’t drag me onto a side,” Namjoon warns.

“He’s been acting weird. If he’s not going to tell her what he’s doing, she has every right to run off to Bermuda with Jimin. I would,” Taehyung says.

“I think I’d prefer a different island, maybe...Fiji?” Jungkook offers.

“Bora Bora?” Taehyung adds on.

“That sounds fun, maybe we should go there,” Jungkook says and Taehyung smiles, an answer on the tip of his tongue.

“Can you two focus ?” Namjoon asks.

“I mean, really,” Jin chimes in.

“You’re not helping either,” Namjoon says, swiveling his stern gaze to Jin.

“I don’t get why he’s so upset though. Like yeah, it sucks she didn’t tell him, but he’s been weird and we still don’t know what that’s about,” Jimin says.

“He’s going to propose,” Yoongi says, so quietly that almost nobody hears him.

“WHAT?” comes the chorus of four men very much caught off guard, nobody more so than Jimin, nobody noticing that one other person hardly looks surprised.

“I think I just hallucinated, what did you just say?” Jimin asks.

“We haven’t just been working on tracks and choreography, we’ve been ring shopping,” Yoongi says and Namjoon sighs.

“Oh, and you just KEPT THIS FROM ME?” Jimin asks.

“We weren’t supposed to tell anyone,” Namjoon says, looking like he’s aged 10 years in this conversation alone.

“Joon knows and you couldn’t tell me?” Jimin repeats.

“Everyone knows none of us can keep our mouths shut,” Taehyung says with a shrug, not at all bothered by the development.

“He’s my boyfriend Taehyung,” Jimin retorts.

You, of course, have no idea any of this is happening, don’t get to witness Jimin freaking out while Yoongi switches between apologies and justifications. You don’t get to see Namjoon trying to mediate the situation or Jin wander off because “it’s his party and he’s not interested.” You miss Jungkook’s doe eyes flitting back and forth between each of them as they speak and Taehyung’s blasé attitude because his mind is wandering off to island vacations.

No, you don’t see any of that because you’ve been dragged off to the spare bedroom by a Very Angry Hoseok who shuts the door behind you without a word. You don’t miss the way his nostrils are flared or the uncharacteristic frown on his face. You don’t miss the way he paces, which is another thing he doesn’t normally do. You don’t miss the way his hand almost involuntarily twitches toward his pocket, as if he’s itching for something. If you didn’t know for absolute certain that Hoseok didn’t smoke cigarettes, you would have thought he was reaching for one. It was a nervous gesture and Hoseok was never prone to nerves.

You see, the thing about Hoseok is that he has no problem being the center of attention. It’s not like he actively seeks it out or anything, it’s just that it’s always kind of on him and he’s never seemed to mind. You’d once heard that sunflowers always positioned themselves towards the sun and it immediately reminded you of him. Hoseok was the sun and everyone else in his orbit was a sunflower, angling toward him without even thinking. And he’s like that picture of the sun you always drew as a kid, like it had a smile. That was him, the constantly smiling sunshine that drew everyone in without trying.

So this Hoseok? The one that’s nervously pacing, that’s scowling, and has been acting weird for weeks? This Hoseok makes you nervous, makes you unsure of what’s coming, makes you wish that you had told him about the trip before Jimin blurted it out semi-drunkenly at a party.

Okay, so yes. You were definitely punishing Hoseok a little for the way he had been acting. You definitely thought that if he was keeping secrets, then you could too. Now it occurs to you that nothing about that was the adult way to handle things, not with someone you loved, and you felt terrible.

“When were you gonna tell me?” Hoseok finally breaks the silence and his voice is low, raspy even, He doesn’t even meet your eyes and you wish he would yell.

But he won’t yell, you know he won’t yell. You don’t think Hoseok has yelled at you in the entire time you’ve known him.

He has been angry before, usually directed at others. And it’s...well it’s something else.

Hoseok is passionate, intense. It’s one of the first things you remember noticing about him that you found attractive. You never really dwelled on it back then, probably because you knew you’d be done for. It became one of your favorite things once you started dating, made him so incredibly attractive to you. Every move was precise, his attention was laser focused. Your body reacts to the thoughts without your permission and it’s so inappropriate in this moment, this moment when he’s angry at you.

His head lifts and his eyes lock onto yours. You can see the fire behind them, feel paralyzed under just his gaze.

You swallow hard, not for the first time, and hope you can find your voice with a clear of your throat. “I was getting to…”

“Oh really?” Hoseok asks, stepping closer to you, which forces you to take a step back unconsciously. “When exactly were you getting to it?”

You swallow again. His voice is low and dangerous, dripping with disdain. His eyes never leave yours and you’re not sure if you’ve ever blinked that much in your life.

“I just...things have been weird,” you stammer.

“Have they?” Hoseok asks, another step toward you and your back is against the wall now, keeping a measured distance between you.

Your heart races and if you could feel embarrassed, you probably would. You feel your body caught in a weird mix of frightened and turned on. Frightened by the tone of his voice and the cold stare to his eyes, not frightened that he would ever hurt you. You know he never would.

“So were you teaching me a lesson, then?” Hoseok asks and takes another step forward, body getting closer. There was nowhere left for you to go.

“I wasn’t,” you manage and he tuts his tongue, disappointed.

“And what was it when you were spending all that time talking to Hoshi,” Hoseok says, voice dropping lower still. He’s nearly pressed against you now, though, so you hear every word. “You’ve never had all that much to talk about before.”

“We were just…” you begin and it actually seems like he’s going to let you answer this one.

No explanation comes. Really, what can you say? You knew what you’d been doing, knew it would annoy him. And it was intentional. He knew it was intentional.

“Just what?” Hoseok wonders, eyes still almost ferocious as they raked your face for an answer. “Trying to get my attention by talking to the one choreographer here that you know I can’t stand?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you say and you’re not even sure you’re convincing yourself.

“Wasn’t it?” Hoseok asks, his words like a whisper against your skin as he presses against you. “And then,” he pulls back as he says this, “after you’ve spent an hour talking to someone you know I hate, Jimin informs us all you’re going on vacation with him.”

You’re trying to form words, really, you are. You want to tell him that it’s felt so off and you’re not proud of what you did. And then there’s that voice in your head asking aren’t you though? Because this is the most normal it’s felt with him in weeks. What does that say? He’s angry and you’re turned on by his proximity.

He sighs and pulls away. “You’re enjoying that, aren’t you? Did you do all this just to get my attention? Well mission fucking accomplished, I guess.”

And the illusion is shattered just like that. His voice is still low and very much still angry, but now it only sounds pissed off and tired. Whatever that moment had been, it was over and just the anger remained.

With that space, your head clears, at least enough to form thoughts. At least enough to remember that you’re mad at him too.

“Well this is basically the most you’ve said to me in weeks,” you say and ignore that you sound like a petulant child for saying so.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks genuinely surprised.

“You’ve been avoiding me for weeks! You never want to hang out with our friends, you’re spending your entire life in that damn studio or with Yoongi working on some secret project,” you said, feeling it spilling out like a waterfall. “And I know you’ve checked my phone a few times. Which, like, I don’t care, you can look at it if you want, but you used to at least ask.”

“So instead of just talking to me, you tried to make me jealous by talking to Hoshi?” Hoseok’s nostrils flare and you know it touched more than a nerve.

“Honestly, Hoseok, we were just talking.”

“Really? Is that what you call it when you were flipping your hair over your shoulder, giggling, and touching his arm? And that smug bastard kept looking at me because even he knew. I know you saw him looking over your shoulder, you must’ve known it was at me.”

“I thought you were over that stupid feud. You’ve clearly won, you know you’re the better choreographer,” you say and wonder why you’re comforting him.

“And what’s that shit with Jimin? How long ago did that happen?” Hoseok asks, never once raising his voice. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wish he’d yell. This scary, quiet, almost calm thing is so much worse.

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago when he came over and we had wine and Chinese,” you say with a shrug.

“Looks like I’m not the only one keeping things to myself, huh?” Hoseok cocks an eyebrow at you like a challenge.

“So you are keeping things,” you say, thinking you’ve pinned him.

“And you’re doing this just to get back at me,” Hoseok retorts immediately. “What happened to the woman that called me out when I was in my head?”

“You’ve been distant, I didn’t know what to do!” Your voice has gone desperate, almost pleading. Because, yeah, he’s been distant but you acted like a child. And that’s not cool.

Hoseok is quiet for a long moment, too long of a moment and you aren’t sure if you should be angry as well or cry. He sighs heavily and you watch his face change from anger to...something you can’t quite place.

“Hobi, baby, I’m so sorry. I was being an idiot and it was so immature. It’s just...in all the years we’ve known each other, you’ve never kept anything from me. No matter what, good, bad, ugly, you’ve shared it all and I thought,” you say and take a deep breath, looking away. “I thought you stopped loving me.”

You feel him rather than hear him as he closes the space between you again and uses one of his long, slender fingers to tilt your chin up. His eyes are soft again, still something simmering underneath, but it seems like the anger might be gone.

“It was so stupid, I knew it was stupid. And I knew I should just ask you what was going on, but I was scared of what you’d say. Then the longer it went on, the harder it was to ask you and the more I saw every little movement as you pulling away,” you said and pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “And god Hoshi is so fucking annoying. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“At least you haven’t forgotten that,” is all Hoseok says at first.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat and he smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I know these past weeks haven’t been easy on you and I’m sorry for that too. If you could’ve just waited until tonight, then it would have all made sense. But if you could have then you wouldn’t be you, the most frustrating, impatient, exhausting, incredible, intelligent, kind, wonderful woman I fell in love with,” Hoseok says and you smile despite him starting with less than complimentary descriptions.

“Yeah, love you too, babe,” you joke.

“I had this whole plan, but it doesn’t seem right now,” Hoseok says and reaches into the same pocket his hand flinched towards earlier.

Your breathing stops, your eyes go wide. Surely he’s not about to…

And there’s the velvet box in his hand, that he flicks open easily.

“This is why I’ve been acting so strange. Because I’ve been walking around with a ring in my pocket for weeks, worrying you’d find it, worrying you would ruin this whole big plan I had to propose to you at this party, in front of all of our closest friends,” Hoseok says and you’re genuinely speechless. “I’m sorry I looked at your phone. There were a few times I thought you’d figured it out so I was trying to make sure you hadn’t.”

Your eyes meet his with a question and you find the answer immediately. He’s serious. This is actually happening.

“So? Do I have to get down on one knee and ask or are you going to just say yes and marry me?”

Hoseok looks smug as he takes in your expression. His face blurs a bit and you wonder if you’ve actually had that much to drink before you feel his fingers gently brushing away tears.

“You’re such a fucking idiot and I hate you.”

That’s the first thing that comes out of your mouth and for some reason it makes him smile. He doesn’t need another answer, he just slips the ring onto your finger and pulls you against him, lips meeting yours immediately. The kiss is filled with a thousand unspoken words of things you’ve both wanted to say for weeks. It starts slow and easy, only saying sorry for what you’ve done in the past few weeks. But, as always seems to be the case with you and Hoseok, it quickly changes to desire, wanting, a need to be as close as possible. It’s one of those kisses where you wonder if the world is about to disappear around you and you’re not worried, because you have him. The person who means more to you than anything else in the world.

As much as you want to just keep kissing Hoseok into the new year, you know that you both need to head back to the actual party. Neither one of you seems to want to let the other go, though, now that things finally feel settled again. You apologize again for being an idiot, he apologizes for how weird things have been. Life feels much better again.

And you're kissing him again, an intensity to it that hasn't been there for the past several weeks. All other thoughts have flown out of your head and you can only focus on the feel of Hoseok's lips on yours. It's a lot of effort to pull away again, but you can't actually celebrate with him in one of Jin's guest bedrooms. First, Jin would somehow find out and would throw an absolute fit. Second, your friends are nosy as hell. Even if they mean well, one of them will absolutely be knocking in another minute or two.

To really make a statement, and drive Jin crazy, you grab a glass once you’re back in the throws of the party, raising it and tapping on the side. You announce that you and Hoseok are getting married and are met with cheers from people that don’t even know you.

Once the toast is over, you’re hug attacked by Jimin, who has tears in his eyes and you don’t even know why. Your other friends are right behind him.

“How could you upstage me at my own party where I’m already upstaging Taehyung’s birthday?” Jin asks, nearly screeches if you’re being honest.

“SO YOU ADMIT IT!” Taehyung is looking both angry and victorious, which makes for a weird combination.

“Please, Taehyung, the adults are speaking,” Jin tsks.

“I know I was on board but weren’t you two just fighting like 15 minutes ago? Should you really be getting married?” Namjoon asks, always the practical one.

You feel pretty oblivious to the chaos swirling around you, not only because you’re used to it and it’s this way whenever you’re all together, but also because you’re just happy. This is far better than what your brain had assumed Hoseok was up to.

“I think it’s cute,” Jimin declares, eyes large and round as he looks at two of his favorite people.

“You’re only saying that because you kind of started the fight,” Taehyung says and Jimin frowns at him.

“You were Team Jimin like 10 minutes ago, what happened?” Jimin asks.

“I realized that I need to be Team Taehyung,” he answers like it should be obvious.

“Judas,” Jimin mutters.

“Shouldn’t we be talking about those two? They just got engaged?” Jungkook asks, wide eyes on you and Hoseok.

“No we should not, this is still my party ,” Jin says.

The chatter continues to swirl. Jimin still thinks it’s Romantic, Taehyung is mad that Jin wants to upstage his birthday (which is stupid, really, you think, because it’s always been obvious that was the reason), Jungkook is just taking it all in with wide eyes and saying very little, Namjoon is trying to mediate, Jin is waxing poetic about the injustice of the lack of attention he’s getting at his own party, and Yoongi tries to support Joon’s point (that you were just fighting 15 minutes ago and maybe you should sort that out before getting engaged).

“You know,” you say to Hoseok, knowing everyone else can hear you because it’s the first thing you’ve said since Jin’s announcement his party had been upstaged, “what do you think of a winter wedding?”

Hoseok smiles at you, a little bit of mischief in his eyes. “Winter might be nice.”

“December 4th sounds like a good date, don’t you think?” you say and this stops the argument where nothing else could. Well, maybe starts a new one.

“Stop it! Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare!” Jin is pointing a finger at you while he says this.

“Why? Is that date a problem?” You’re the picture of innocence and Jin hates it.

But you’re saved by the bell as Jin's phone rings and his eyes go wide, not even bothering to make excuses before running off to answer it.

You know you haven’t heard the end of it. You absolutely will not be allowed to get engaged at Kim Seokjin’s New Year’s Eve party only to then get married on his birthday. He will drop dead before letting you hear the end of that. And, really, you don’t want to get married in December anyway. It’s just fun to rile him up.

He’s back far sooner than expected and wearing a huge smile in place of his frown. “Get married whenever you want. GONE IN A FLASH: A HOLIDAY ROMANCE 2 IS HAPPENING!”

“Jin literally nobody needs to hear the full name of that movie,” Yoongi sighs. “Or for there to be a sequel.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Jin says in almost a sing-song voice. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

You’re hesitant to go along with any toast proposed by Jin but you did just get engaged so maybe it’s worth seeing this through. Glasses rise into the air, following Jin’s lead.

“A toast to you both,” Jin says, looking at you and Hoseok. “Even though you got engaged at my big party, I’m getting the sequel we all know I deserve, so I’m happy for you. Cheers!”

Everyone looks at you and you can’t help but burst into laughter. That’s exactly what you should have expected and honestly, it’s perfect. It’s the perfect toast to celebrate getting engaged in possibly one of the most chaotic and unnecessary ways possible.

#bts fic #bts imagines #jhs x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok imagine #bts scenarios

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thiswasinevitableid · 1 year

Text

Kepler Kreeps (Indruck)

The winner of the "sweet more than scary" prompt poll was: You and I are both haunted house actors and tonight is a slow night

Duck’s tent is covered in blood.

Fake blood, but still. If he ever needed an excuse to buy one he hasn’t had since 1998, this is his chance.

His room is one of the darkest, with only a tipped over lantern in the corner and glo-strips to help people safely find their way through. Squinting at his watch, he sees there’s still two hours to go before they close.

“Shoulda brought a card game or something.” He whispers.

No response from the darkness across from him.

“‘Drid? Hey, mothman, don’t conk out on me now!”

There’s a sharp trill and then two, red eyes glow in the corner, “Oh dear, I was trying so hard not to fall asleep. If it’s any consolation, we will not be seeing another group for at least fifteen minutes. Not to mention the screams from Minerva’s scene would have woken me up.”

“True.” They’ve been using the alarm from his friend’s alien abduction sequence as their cue to get in position. After all, they want Kepler’s one and only haunted house to be worth the ticket.

Duck had worked with Kepler Kreeps a few times, usually when they were short volunteers and needed an extra zombie or ghost. The profits always went to the youth center, and Duck liked the chance to goof off a bit. So when he got back from Brazil in need of ways to get back into the swing of things in Kepler, volunteering for this year’s haunted house was a no-brainer.

He’d been surprised to find Indrid seated in the folding chairs along with him on the first night of planning; last he’d heard the Sylph had gone home, leaving Leo to take up the Winnebago in his place.

“I tried it for a while. But I was not speaking hyperbolically when I told you I was fond of earth. I missed it terribly and Sylvain…she has another, younger seer. So when the gate re-opened I decided to move back.”

This was how Duck also learned Indrid had been living in the apartment beneath him for three months. He’d taken Leo’s spot on the lease. Given that Duck had never seen him coming or going, he’s mostly just glad the mothman is getting out of the house.

The group settled on “Haunted Monongahela” for the theme, with each room being a different scene of horror or carnage unfolding in the national forest. As people were chatting amongst themselves about what rooms they could do, Indrid had flapped his hands, grabbed Duck’s arm, and said “I have the perfect idea.”

So now here they are, in the second weekend of the house’s run, waiting for some kids to scare. The first weekend is always busy as the haunted house die-hards and people ready for the spooky season to start flock to the gates. His guess is it won’t get really crowded again until a week or two before Halloween.

Screams from the front of the house. Now that Sylphs are an open secret, a few are more comfortable being seen in their monstrous forms. In this case, it’s Barclay’s second cousin, Franklin, who after a bout of being feral in Texarkana moved up to Kepler to work as a bartender. Franklin starts the house off in style by chasing guests up a corridor, teeth and claws bared.

Soon enough, there are horrified shouts from the room closest to them, courtesy of Minerva slicing open the chest of a dummy and sending fake blood everywhere. Duck slips back into the tent and readies himself.

Once the cluster of teenagers is over the threshold, he shakes the frame and scratches at the canvas, screaming like he’s being torn apart. This scares the group away from his side of the room and keeps them from noticing the massive, feathery shape rising up behind them.

All Indrid has to do is open his wings and shriek to send them running to the next room.

When no more groups come through, Indrid perches on the block he’s using to get further above everyone’s heads and drums on it with his claws as they wait for more victims.

“You doin’ anything fun for Halloween?” Duck crawls out and sits up in front of the tent entrance, stretching out his back.

“Most likely joining Barclay and the others at the Lodge for a double-feature. Ooh, unless-”

“Unless?”

“Unless we get many trick or treaters at the complex?” Duck can just make out the lines of his antenna twitching.

“Decent number, since we got plenty of kids in the apartments and in the neighborhood. Crap, that reminds me, I gotta get the place decorated so they know to come up the stairs and knock.”

“Do you prefer classic decorations or more of a theme?” Indrid cocks his head.

“Usually just do lights and maybe a skeleton or two. I do got this one idea I think would be fun, but it’d take up more space, maybe even get in your way.”

“Duck, you saw where I was living, do I strike you as needing everything neat and tidy?”

“Guess not. It’s kind of a cheesy idea though…”

“I insist you tell me. Please?” The disappearance and reappearance of glowing eyes suggests Indrid is trying to bat his eyelashes at him.

“Okay, okay. I was thinking I could decorate like it’s a haunted tropical island. Put aloha shirts on the skeletons, see if anyone makes a skeletal parrot-”

“Put out some Jimmy Boo-fet records perhaps?”

Duck laughs, “Exactly!”

“That sounds delightful? Would you like some help? We could even decorate both apartments in the same vein for a stronger impact. “

“Hell yeah. You wanna stop by my place after work on Monday? I was gonna run out and get stuff then.”

A flash of teeth in the darkness, “It’s a date.”

—------------------------------------------------------

Duck tosses a few more leis into the shopping cart. He’s debating whether to get a spinning projector that casts ghosts over the walls when Indrid appears, hands behind his back.

“I have the perfect costume for you.”

Duck leans on the cart, “I swear, if those are bear ears-”

Indrid gasps, mock affronted, “How could you suggest I would sink so low as a Smokey the Bear joke?”

“Smarter than the a-ver-age bear.” Duck swipes the ears from Indrids hand and places them atop silver hair, “besides, you wear ‘em better.”

His friend smiles as he removes the headband, “That’s high praise. Unrelatedly, if we go by the thrift store we will find some shirts that are perfect for the skeletons.”

Indrid’s foresight is spot on, and they also score a “It’s Five O’Clock Somewhere” hat and some unopened skull lights. He’s having such a nice time that he doesn’t think twice about asking if Indrid would like to grab dinner, though he slightly regrets his offer of a ride when his friend discovers the Jimmy Buffet C.Ds in his car.

“You truly contain multitudes, Duck Newton.”

“I had a case of the Mondays!”

—------------------------------------------------------------

“This really was a way better idea than me just playing dead.” Duck says as he and Indrid get into their haunted house positions. The doors open in fifteen minutes, and the presence of an actual line suggests a busy night.

Duck adds, “But I’ll have you know I was always real good at playing dead. Played so many dead guys in emergency trainings.”

Indrid makes an amused face.

“I’m serious. Watch.” Duck lays down on his back, closes his eyes, and goes limp.

After a moment, Indrid says, “That is rather convincing.”

Duck says nothing.

“That is also very convincing.”

The lights go out, signaling that it’s time to get in final positions.

“Oh dear” Indrid sighs, “visitors are soon to be upon us and my fellow scare actor is deceased. Whatever shall I do.”

Duck manages not to laugh as Indrid crosses the floor.

A tongue mlems onto his cheek and he slaps a hand across his mouth, giggling as he opens his eyes. Indrid is bent over him, grinning.

“Dang, you figured out my trick.”

“Indeed I did.” Indrid flicks him on the nose once with his tongue, then sneaks soundlessly back into his spot.

Duck’s just glad it’s dark; he’s not ready for the mothman to see him blushing.

—---------------------------------------------------------

“I expected the Friday before Halloween to be much busier.” Indrid sits on the floor across from Duck as the haunted house stays quiet around them (except for the atmospheric music from Kirby’s room).

“They got that Zombie fun-run over in Huntington. Think a bunch of folks from town went there since it’s a one-night thing.”

Indrid shudders, “I cannot say I’d enjoy such an event. Zombies are…they feel too close to what happened with the Quell at times.”

“I get that.” Duck scoots forward an inch, “I always get freaked out by vampire movies. Something about the biting, all the teeth going into necks, ech” he shivers, “no thanks.”

“Perhaps we should be grateful Reconciliation never sent a vampiric abomination through. Not that I can remember anyway.”

Duck’s hand bumps Indrid’s in the darkness, “Ain’t sure I ever been more scared than when I saw them tryin’ to make a mimic that looked like Jane. Figured it out quick and then I was just pissed but…but there was a second before all that when I thought they’d taken her too. That even though she was far away from this whole mess, I hadn’t been able to protect her, y’know?”

Indrid nods, “I am sorry you had to see such a thing.”

“‘Drid? Can I ask you something weird?”

Another nod and a chirp of assent.

“What’s the most scared you’ve ever been?”

A rustle of wings, then the lilting voice replies, “When I was young. Before I learned how to manage my abilities. If you can see the future and you are not careful, you can look too far ahead, see the end of everything. When you are a little mothling, huddled in the dark after bedtime, there is nothing more terrifying than to let your mind wander where it need not and see the day when the planet goes dark.”

“Oh fuck, ‘Drid, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Duck takes his hand, feels cool chitin as the other three join it, clinging to him.

“I learned quickly to be careful. But there will still times, times like when I was driving back to Kepler to warn you all your plan would not work, where I could not stop seeing the end.”

“What did you do?” His heart cracks at the thought of Indrid hurtling down some empty highway with no relief from the image of the sky ripping away.

“I looked to better futures. To the ones where you succeeded. To the little moments that came after, even as the chances of them faded. I took comfort where I could” he lets out a weak laugh, “though I never foresaw such a comforting moment coming to me in a haunted house.”

“Me neither.” Duck thinks on the last weeks, on hushed conversations waiting for guests to come through. He’s about to say he’s glad the haunted house has let them spend more time together, but then he remembers the evenings decorating the apartments together, remembers Indrid appearing at the park to draw, remembers calling through the floor to ask if the mothman would like to come up and share the pizza he got for dinner.

“Got another weird question for you.”

Indrid’s hands tense. There’s a chirp Duck’s never heard before, unsure and hopeful.

“I know we both got plans late Halloween night to go to the Lodge. But, uh, before then…maybe we could hand out candy together. Since we made the outside of the apartments look so damn good together, seems silly to make trick or treaters climb the stairs.”

“The answer is yes. To both.”

Duck smiles, “I ain’t asked the second thing yet, sugar.”

“The answer remains the same.”

Duck raises onto his knees and kisses Indrid once, gently, and has the unique pleasure of a seven foot tall cryptid turning to butter in his arms.

Indridr nuzzles his forehead, “Is this the part where I am to say something clever about you being my treat?”

Duck snickers and kisses him again, “Nah. Just warn me if we need to stop kissing and scare folks instead.”

Indrid purrs and cuddles him into his lap, “Consider it done.”

#indrid cold/duck newton #indruck #taz amnesty #promptober #monster boyfriend

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satans-helper · 2 years

Text

Scare ‘Em Off

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~2500

Warnings: SMUT ALERT! [dirty talk; handjobs; non-penetrative sex] 18+ ONLY

The boys are back for more Halloween fun ;) Perhaps this will become a tradition for me. It’s been a full year since I wrote any Sanny stuff and I really hope you enjoy ~

---

“Danny, I need you,” Sam said into the phone as he curled up on the couch, his plush blanket becoming a complete cocoon around him. Normally horror movies didn’t spook him at all, but there was something about this night in particular that had him on edge. It could have been the wind howling outside which seemed too cliche to even be real–it had that high-pitched screaming sort of sound and it really did sound like a banshee or a witch roaming around outside. It also could have been the lightning that was breaking the sky apart in the distance, creating fierce cracks of white that low, rumbling thunder followed. He didn’t even know there had been a storm predicted for tonight.

It also could have been the apartment itself, which genuinely gave him the creeps once in a while. More often lately. Jake had warned him about some of the weird energy inside of it and Sam had laughed that off. As far as he was concerned, ghosts weren’t real. But the longer Sam was there, the more he sensed things, too–being watched at random times throughout the day, eerie creaks coming from other rooms, shadows in the corner of his eye. And then there were the nightmares that had recently started. A solo horror movie marathon might have just been a bad idea.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked on the other end. Whenever Sam was being a little dramatic–which even he himself could admit–Danny still always sounded earnestly concerned. Just a little–just enough to reassure Sam as soon as he picked up the phone. Danny was, after all, the only person Sam would actually ever call in a situation like this.

Sam peeked through the blinds into the dark sky. “I watched too many horror movies. It’s overkill now and I’m all edgy. I hate to admit it–” He sighed and turned away from the window, moving instead to turn on another lamp. “Jake might’ve been right. I think this place is haunted, Daniel, and this storm isn’t helping the vibe.”

“Aw, Sammy,” Danny said gently in a way that only he could. Never infantilizing or patronizing, just sweet. “Even if your place is haunted, maybe it’s a friendly ghost.”

“Nah, dude. I had another nightmare.”

“Oh, jeez.” And without a beat, Danny asked, “Want me to come over?”

“Yes. Like, right now,” Sam said, half-listening for any weird, suspicious sounds around him.

“Okay, then I’ll be there soon,” Danny assured him. Sam could already hear him moving around, undoubtedly wasting no time in getting ready to come to the rescue. “Put on a comedy or something. Your brain probably needs a break from all the gore and shit.”

“Gore doesn’t scare me, but ghosts do,” Sam reminded him. “Get your ass over here.”

Danny laughed. “Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

The buzzer, loud and imposing, made Sam jump. It was really storming now, with a furious downpour smacking the windows and the lighting even brighter, along with the booming thunder that had crept closer. The annoying sound of the buzzer managed to be a blessing, however, because a few moments later, there was Danny at Sam’s door, thrusting a big bag of Halloween candy at him.

“Boo,” he said with a self-satisfied grin, cloaked in a sweatshirt. He kicked his muddy sneakers off before stepping inside, pulling his hood back at the same time.

“Boo to you, Daniel,” Sam said, tearing open the bag of candy. Normally he’d avoid that stuff but he felt like Danny made the right call by bringing it. Even the act of opening each individual wrapper might help ease some of his anxieties. Maybe he just needed to move, too. Too bad the lease wasn’t up until the summer. He went back to the couch and patted the space next to him. “Come help me ward off these ghosts.”

“You’ve gotta stop thinking about it so much.” Danny sat down, quick to slide his arm over Sam’s shoulders and hold him close, which was always a simple but extraordinarily comforting act. Physical contact was part and parcel to their relationship–even Danny’s most innocent touches never lost their spark. On the contrary, Sam had only found himself wanting more and getting more excited the older they got and the deeper their friendship became.

Sam opened a miniature bag of Skittles. “I’m trying,” he said, popping half of them into his mouth at once and passing the rest off to Danny. After swallowing the sugary rainbow down, he added, “That’s why you’re here–to help get my mind off all this shit.” He could see both of their reflections in the black TV screen–Danny had fully relaxed against the back of the couch, still keeping his arm around Sam and his eyes were locked on him too. Even in the slightly fuzzy dark mirror, Sam could see the mischief there.

“You look like you have an idea,” Sam noted, leaning back into the cushions too, making Danny lift his arm up. But instead of just taking it back to himself, Danny changed his position entirely. He pushed himself back against the arm of the couch and took Sam along with him by a strong grip across his shoulders, positioning him right between his legs. Sam wiggled, adjusting so Danny’s thighs were perfectly nestled around him and he could relax against his chest.

Sam smoothed his hand up Danny’s thigh. “I actually feel kinda protected right now. Maybe the ghosts here are homophobic and they’ll get the hell outta dodge after seeing this.”

Danny laughed. His hand over Sam’s chest moved to the top of his shirt, fingers undoing one button, then another. “If they think that’s bad, they’re gonna be really offended by what else I have in mind.” Sam kept his chin down, watching as Danny unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, then sighed as his warm hand ran up from his abdomen to his chest; his eyes closed as Danny’s lips met his ear and he said, gentle and low: “You know I have some real dirty thoughts about you sometimes, Sammy.”

“Mmm, oh yeah?” Sam teased, turning to look up at him. “You should talk about them. Y’know, make sure the ghosts are offended and they fuck off.”

“Okay, well,” Danny began, running his fingers through Sam’s hair while he kept petting his chest and abdomen. “Like last Halloween, after we escaped that spooky graveyard. Which, by the way, you weren’t scared of ghosts back then.”

“Yeah, ‘cause they weren’t in my fucking house,” Sam replied. “Come on, tell me. I’m not sure I remember what we did.”

Danny stroked his fingers along Sam’s temple into his scalp; they hadn’t had any sort of hair-based foreplay in a while. It was enough to make Sam’s eyes flutter shut. “So after we got outta there, with all that adrenaline, we went back to the car,” Danny said. “You don’t remember what happened after that?”

Sam shook his head. “Nope.”

“We dry-humped in the backseat until we both blew our loads in our pants.”

Sam snorted. “That’s what you think about?”

“Well, sometimes. That memory leads to other thoughts–I’ve jerked off while thinking about it, but then I’ll start thinking about things like…” Danny began, dipping his head down to speak softly into Sam’s ear again while one hand brushed through his hair, caressing the curtain back so he could press his mouth to Sam’s neck. “You on your knees. Sometimes after a show, all sweaty and half-naked. You make it so easy, Sam. I think about running my hands through your hair–kind of like this–and watching you suck my dick.”

Sam sighed, his entire body relaxed in a way that only Danny seemed to be able to elicit. Who cares about ghosts anymore? He was past the point of thinking now, eyes still closed as he focused on the feeling of Danny kissing his neck while one hand held his jaw and the other brushed down his bare chest. He laughed, opening his eyes, when Danny slid his hand right underneath his shorts.

“Dirty boy,” Sam said, reaching behind himself to tug at Danny’s hair. “What else do you think about?”

Danny hummed, cupping Sam’s cock over his underwear, brushing his thumb over his balls. “One of my favorite memories is from that one night in Atlantic City,” he told Sam, pausing to lightly scrape his teeth down his neck to his collarbone, pulling the collar of his shirt away. “In the hotel–when we fucked right in front of the window because you liked the view so much.”

“Being stoned helped,” Sam said. His chest was starting to flush, heart beating harder within it, and he was getting close to grabbing Danny’s wrist and shoving his hand right down his underwear to get on with it. But patience was a virtue, one that Danny had a saintly amount of, and Sam was always trying to learn more of it for himself.

“Bet I can make you feel stoned without the weed.” Danny did just what Sam wanted–quickly slid beneath the waistband of his underwear and grabbed his cock, wrapping his fist around it. Sam’s whole body jerked with the contact, one hand flying back down to Danny’s leg to grip his thigh hard; he felt Danny’s smirk against his neck, then teeth against his skin as he started to stroke him, slow and easy.

“Fuck yeah,” Sam breathed out, the words rough and quiet. He watched through the confines of both of their clothing–Danny’s sleeve covering his strong forearm that moved up and down slightly with each movement and his hand below, creating another bulge that tented Sam’s shorts. “You know what you’re doing.”

Danny kissed just beneath Sam’s ear, making him squirm back against that hard, strong frame: “I always do.” Sam squirmed back harder when Danny took his hand away, then choked out a relieved gasp when he returned it, his palm wet with spit.

Sam allowed himself a few more seconds of that bliss before he lurched forward and spun around, crossing his legs, and shoved one hand down his shorts. “Undo your jeans, dude,” he ordered, throwing a nod at Danny. “I think we should hump again.”

Danny chuckled, raising his eyebrows, and did what he was told. He reached down beneath his own boxers, preventing Sam from truly seeing him start to jerk himself off. Sam kept stroking himself anyway, leaning back to watch. Danny lifted the hem of his sweatshirt just enough to reveal part of his happy trail and Sam bit his lip, stifling a whine. Their eyes moved up each other’s bodies, locking together more so than paying close attention to what they were both doing below. There was a profound warmth rippling through Sam, an intense full-body sensation that Danny was a master at bringing to life by hardly doing anything at all. Those mysterious eyes could meet Sam’s at any point and he’d feel an intuitive pull forward, a deep but lovely ache to get as close as possible to the person who loved him the most–in that very special way–and judged him the least, even if they were fucking in front of a massive window overlooking a city or dry-humping in the car and everything else that came with their unbreakable bond.

Sam crawled forward between Danny’s legs, where he always felt welcome and safe in addition to completely hot and bothered. He lifted both his hands to hold the sides of Danny’s face and kissed him deep, offering a quick invitation of tongue to wet both their lips. Danny’s hands found Sam, too–one held his neck so gently and sweetly that Sam moaned softly just from that caress while the other played a fun game of contradictions by squeezing his ass hard, urging Sam even closer. Before Sam obliged, he made sure to pull away the clothing that was still blocking his access to one of his favorite parts of Danny, then his own, so they were both exposed but close.

Danny broke away from Sam’s mouth and gave a little huff; Sam started to grind against him, bringing his mouth to Danny’s jaw, nibbling there until Danny was the one squirming and moaning. His hand was kneading Sam’s ass feverishly while the other plunged into Sam’s hair and tugged, which brought to life a frenzy in Sam’s mind–behind his closed eyes, he could still see everything, from the beauty that always stayed bold in Danny’s eyes to the heat that was radiating between their bodies. Sam left a wet, pink mark on Danny’s neck before he looked down at the physical connection they were sharing–the dense, harsh thrusts of Sam and Danny’s eager reciprocity. It was so hot, figuratively and nearly literally, that Sam thought they were bound to start a fire if one of them didn’t finish soon.

“Oh god, yeah,” Danny moaned; Sam looked back up and he was smiling, watching Sam’s hips move before he met Sam’s gaze again and smiled even wider. Danny tugged on his hair and pulled him into another searing kiss. “You are so sexy,” he mumbled against Sam’s mouth.

Sam giggled. “Speak for yourself,” he said, reaching down between them to grab both their cocks in his hand, keeping his grip loose enough to where they could both keep thrusting. They were both close–he could feel Danny’s abs tightening and his dick getting hotter, the precum from both of them slick and warm. It was making Sam feel stoned. He latched his mouth to Danny’s neck, biting and sucking between his words: “Come on, come for me, Danny. Let’s make a fucking mess.”

“Shit–god, Jesus,” Danny moaned roughly, and Sam sucked even harder against his neck while he twisted his hand around their cocks and bucked his hips. He squeezed Sam’s ass so hard it would have hurt in any other context–now, it made Sam blow his load all through his own fingers and over Danny’s burning, slick erection. He exhaled hard, wanting to collapse on top of him, but he kept going, rutting hard and fast until Danny grabbed his hair again, kissing Sam all sloppy and wet and hot.

Sam hummed against Danny’s lips when he felt the heat between them peak and Danny’s cum slide over his fingers, too. “Goddamn, Daniel.” He pulled back and slid his hips backwards, looking down at that mess they’d made. “So fucking hot.”

Danny pulled him in again, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waist, before he even had the thought of getting up. “Stay here,” he said.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Sam said, resting his head on Danny’s shoulder. It was nice to be there, all pliant and relaxed–breathing together was like meditating. “But hopefully the ghosts left.”

“I’m sure we spooked ‘em. But just in case,” Danny said, beginning to play idly with Sam’s hair. “I can spend the night if you want some extra protection.”

Sam smiled to himself. “Or another round in case this one didn’t work.”

Danny laughed, a lovely, pure sound that Sam knew could battle any evil spirits. “Yeah, or that.”

---

Tagging: @lavenderhazelover @bigthighsandstupidguys @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade @kiszkawagnergvf @chestinfect-me @woman-ina-dream @itsametaphorbriansblog @karrotkate @edgeofgreta @silver--storms @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @colorstreammind @mintysammykiszka @camomillacatalina @mssives

#heehee #this one was super fun #Danny Wagner #Sam Kiszka #Greta Van Fleet #GVF #Danny GVF #Sam GVF #Sanny #GVF slash #GVF fic #GVF smut

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