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#such as laughing about how people still needed to pay rent no matter what when the pandemic hit
medicinemane · 7 months
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Once had someone I know laugh at me because "read" is pronounced "reed" not "red" (trying to convey what I mean in text with similar sounding words here, you know?)
Now... you may notice that he was, in fact, a complete buffoon
Also worth mentioning that he pronounced "totem" like "tow-um"... also told me that wireless chargers didn't exist in like 2018 (despite being a self styled tech genius), which is less relevant here but I think helps paint the picture
Anyway, I was typing "red" and my fingers wrote "read" and I was like you're not wrong but also no, and I was reminded of this while I was tossing around ideas about "Red is read red" as some dumb post to make
Take away is max was an utterly self centered arrogant ass with rich parents who acted like he was some kind of ultra genius while being a damn fool... and now that I think of it also had a real hard on for elon musk cause he recognized what a brilliant person he is; which is all to say there's many many many many many reasons I don't talk to max anymore
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just-jordie-things · 4 months
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video games - takuma ino
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 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. ]
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badasbebi · 5 months
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not my fault ➛ 2/2
read part one
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: discovering that a cute girl you saw at your college orientation is your roommate, you become eager to get to know her. however, things quickly go awry when she turns out to be much more difficult to get along with than you could've imagined and abruptly leaves you in the dust. fueled by your terrible experiences with her and rumors about her dating habits, you swear to stay away from her at all costs. will you be able to keep your promise?
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut, my poor attempt at a rom-com, college!au, enemies to lovers, (very slight) roommates to lovers
✦ word count: 9.8k (im still embarrassed)
✦ warnings: isn't proofread. MDNI!!!! top!bada, top!reader for 2 seconds, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), bada is a giver, one of my first attempts at smut so please bear with me lmao.
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At this point, the school needed to compensate you for how much time you were spending watching and judging their sports teams. Or, maybe you should be paying rent, with how often you're staying here. The thought alone makes you cringe. Tuition was enough. 
Your legs are crossed, and a notebook rests on your lap as you sit in the bleachers, observing the dance team once again. This time, you're not waiting for Lusher. You're here for Bada, who said she could only meet with you after practice today. You're just grateful you're indoors today, and away from volant objects.
It's been a few days since the interview, and you've managed to avoid seeing her in person as much as possible. You've been communicating solely through text, not even bothering to exchange words in class. You know it's childish, but you don’t have the vigor to deal with her head-on. Besides, this way, you can focus on your part of the project, and not Bada's... everything.
You scan the gym floor and pinpoint her. Today, she's wearing a short-sleeved shirt and another pair of cargo pants, driving you to deliberate about how many she owns. If you looked that good in everything, did it matter?
You shake your head, averting your eyes before she notices your staring. You're not even sure what the purpose of your being here is. You probably could've waited to come closer to the end of practice. it was an admittedly nice way to occupy your time while you waited, you assure yourself.
The team is working on a new routine, one that involves a lot of acrobatics. They're running through their routine for the third time. Each time, they seem to get better, their movements more fluid and precise. You watch, fascinated, as Bada twists and turns, her limbs moving in a way that seems almost impossible. She's incredible. She's probably the best dancer on the team, not that you would ever tell her that.
After what feels like an eternity, the music comes to an end, and the team collapses to the ground, panting and sweaty. You're a little out of breath just watching them.
"Good job, guys," Bada says, her voice ringing through the large gym.
"Thanks," someone calls out, her tone laced with exhaustion.
"Let's call it a day," she says.
There's a collective sigh of relief as the team gathers their things and starts to leave. A few people linger, chatting with each other. Bada is one of them, talking to a group of girls. You try not to stare, but it's hard not to notice the way she laughs and smiles around them.
You look away, darting your eyes around the room, when someone catches your eye. Once you realize who it is, your blood runs cold. How did you not notice her before? Probably because of Bada. Damn that woman.
Aiki is on the opposite side of the gym, standing near the door. She's talking to someone and hasn't seemed to notice you yet.
The last thing you need right now is to run into Aiki. That encounter last year was awkward enough. You have no interest in rehashing the whole mess, especially with Bada so nearby.
You snatch your stuff, flying down the bleachers at a speed you did not realize you were capable of. You take the steps two at a time, adrenaline is burning in your veins, nearly tripping over yourself in the process.
You finally reach the bottom, and without a second thought, duck under the bleachers, hiding yourself from view like a criminal hiding from the police. 
Your heart is racing, and you lean against a pole, trying to catch your breath. You peek out and see Aiki still hasn't noticed you. She's chatting animatedly with whoever she's talking to and doesn't seem concerned about finding you.
You breathe a sigh of relief, and slide down to the ground. You rest your head against the pole, and close your eyes, willing your heart rate to slow down. This was ridiculous. You needed to exercise more.
"What the hell, y/n?" a familiar voice calls from behind you. You scream, jumping up and banging your head on the metal.
"Ouch," you hiss, rubbing the tender spot.
"What are you doing?" Bada asks, her tone equal parts amusement and annoyance.
"Uh, nothing," you say, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"This is so weird," she states.
"Sorry," you mutter, ducking your head.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her tone softening.
"I'm fine," you say, brushing her off.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you sigh.
She takes a step towards you. "I can help you. I'm a nurse's aid, remember?" she points out, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"No, it's fine, I'm okay."
"Okay, well, if you're not gonna tell me what's going on, can you come out from under there, at least?"
"Uh—"
"Y/n?!" Lusher's voice rings out, running up to the bleachers.
"Shit," you whisper. You did not need two witnesses present for this mortifying experience. 
"What are you doing?" Lusher says, peering over Bada's shoulder. 
"Nothing," you call, trying to sound casual.
"Why are you hiding under the bleachers right now?"
"I'm not," you lie, wincing. 
"Y/n," Bada says, shaking her head.
"Shhh," you hush.
"You're ridiculous," she chuckles.
"Both of you, come!" you hiss. 
"Is she serious right now?" Lusher whispers to Bada.
"Apparently," she sighs.
"Come on," you say, reaching out and grabbing Bada's wrist.
You pull her towards you, and she stumbles, losing her balance and landing on top of you. The both of you yelp in surprise, and a laugh escapes your mouth. It's surprisingly comfortable. You resist the urge to pull her closer.
"Sorry," Bada apologizes, her face inches from yours.
"It's okay," you say, your breath catching.
You're suddenly aware of the warmth of her body and the closeness of her lips.
"Uh, we should probably get up," she murmurs.
"Right," you say, nodding, but neither of you move.
"Hello?! Are you about to have sex?!" Lusher's annoyed voice snaps you out of your trance.
"No! uh, let's get up. Seriously," you say, gently pushing Bada off.
“Good idea,” she agrees. 
Bada stands up, and holds out her hand, helping you up.
"Thanks," you mumble, feeling your face grow hot.
"Y/n, seriously, what is going on?" Lusher demands, her patience wearing thin.
You step toward her, glaring. "When did Aiki join the dance team, huh? Why didn’t you tell me?” 
Lusher's mouth widens into an 'o'. She sticks her finger up, gearing up to defend herself. 
"Um, she didn’t,” Bada cuts in. "She's just helping us choreograph some of our routines."
"Oh," you say. 
"She’s really good, so I thought it’d be fun to collaborate with her,” Bada explains.
"So, she's not a member of the dance team," Lusher clarifies, giving you a pointed look. 
"Nope," Bada says. 
"Oh, well, uh, good," you say, a mixture of confusion and relief swirling within you.
"So, why are you asking about Aiki?" Bada asks, rubbing the back of her neck.
"She's my ex."
"What?" Bada's mouth drops.
"Yeah,” you admit, woefully. 
"Really?"
"It's a long story," you sigh.
"Huh," Bada says, looking stunned.
"So, that's why you were hiding under the bleachers?" Lusher inquires.
"Yeah. I didn't feel like talking to her."
Bada still looks dumbfounded. She's staring at you, and it's starting to make you nervous.
"Well, that’s silly! But I'm glad you're not in danger, or whatever," Lusher says.
"No. I was,” you deadpan. 
Lusher snorts and shakes her head. "Anyway, I know you're here for Bada. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll leave you guys be," she says, wiggling her eyebrows, out of Bada's sight.
You hiss at her, imagining strangulation. 
"Bye, Bada. Bye, y/n. I'll see you at home," she calls, sauntering away. 
You shoot her a middle finger.
"Bye," Bada says with a small wave. 
She turns to face you, and she stares at you, hard, her eyes unreadable. Your stomach churns with anxiety.
"Nothing," she says, a small smile forming on her face.
"What are you smiling at?"
"I just didn't know that Aiki was your ex-girlfriend."
"There's a lot you don't know about me," you retort.
"True," she says, the smile never leaving her face.
"Anyway, can we get going now? We have work to do," you say, trying to get the conversation back on track.
"Right," she says. "Lead the way."
You walk side by side, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable.
"So," she starts, clearing her throat. "I was thinking...would you mind stopping somewhere and getting something to eat?"
You stop walking.
"Why? Are you hungry?" you ask, suspicious.
"Yeah, a little," she says, rubbing her stomach.
"What are you craving?"
"Anything is fine," she says, a little too quickly.
"Bada, just tell me," you groan, annoyed.
"Okay, fine. I've been wanting to try this new Korean BBQ place that opened a few blocks away."
You bite the inside of your cheek. Of course, she wants to go to a restaurant. You're not sure why you were expecting anything else.
"Um, I guess we could do that," you say, hesitantly.
"Great!"
You follow her as she leads you out of the gym and into the bright, warm afternoon sun.
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You find yourself sitting in the booth across from Bada, staring at a plate of food. 
"What's wrong?" Bada asks, noticing your apprehension.
"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile.
"Okay," she says, not sounding convinced.
You pick up a piece of meat and put it on your plate. The smell is amazing, and your mouth waters.
"Are you going to eat?" Bada asks, gesturing towards your untouched food.
"Yeah," you reply, picking up a piece and bringing it to your lips.
"So, um, how have you been?" she asks, breaking the silence.
"Fine," you say, taking a bite.
"That's good."
"Yeah," you say, chewing.
"And, uh, how's your part of project going?"
"It's going," you respond, swallowing.
"Cool."
"Mhm," you hum, not bothering to elaborate.
You hear a sigh. "Do you always have to be like this?" she asks, exasperated.
You huff. "Like what?"
"Cold. Distant," she says. 
"Excuse me?" you snap.
"You're always so closed off. It's frustrating."
You drop your chopsticks. "Are you messing with me right now? You're the one that's been standoffish since I've met you. And what was with that whole moving out situation that you still haven't given me an explanation for, by the way?"
Her face softens. "Look, I'm sorry about all that. I was just...going through something."
"What were you going through?"
She averts her gaze, and fidgets with her chopsticks.
"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to tell me," you say, feeling bad for pushing her.
She bites her lip, and your eyes are drawn to the movement.
"I don't mind telling you, but can it wait until later? I don't know if it's the right time."
You nod, and return to eating, a little more at ease than before.
"So, you and Aiki?" she says, after a beat.
You freeze. You were hoping that she had forgotten about that.
"Yep," you say, your voice tight.
"How did it happen?"
You shrug. "It was just a short high school fling. But, you know, first lesbian heartbreak and all."
She snorts. "I get that."
"Really?" you respond, leaning forward. You're too nosy to pass up on this.
"Yeah," she says, a little sheepish.
"Who was it? Do I know them?"
"I'm not telling you."
"Is it Doyeon?" you guess, grinning.
Bada nearly chokes on her food. "What?! No. She's just...no," she sputters.
"Tatter?"
Bada squeals, shoving her head in her hands. "Ew, no! She's like a sister to me."
"Hm," you say, tapping your chin.
She glares at you. "It's none of your business."
You shrug. "I'm just surprised, that's all," you say, nonchalant.
"Why?"
"Well," you begin, resting your elbows on the table. "You're like, a total heartthrob. Everyone's crazy about you."
She lets out a bark of laughter. "No, I'm not," she says, dismissive.
"You are," you insist. "Do you know the vile things I've heard women say about you? I'm surprised you don't need bodyguards. You have literal fangirls."
She rolls her eyes. "Okay, maybe a few girls like me. But, they're not crazy."
"I beg to differ."
"Whatever," she laughs.
"All I'm saying is that I'm surprised you've gotten your heartbroken by women before. It seems like you'd be able to get any girl you wanted, and keep them."
Her face grows solemn. "It doesn't always work like that," she says.
You're taken aback. Her eyes are a storm, dark and intense.
"I guess you're right," you agree, trying to break the tension.
She clears her throat. "Let's just eat."
You're confused, and a little worried, but you're also starving.
"Right," you say.
The rest of the meal is silent, the two of you not making eye contact.
After a few minutes, she finally speaks up.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Yes," you reply, grateful to be leaving.
"Let's get going, then," she says, grabbing her card.
You slide your backpack across the seat, toward your body. "I'll pay," you offer, pulling your wallet out. 
"No, it's fine," she insists, reaching across the table and swatting your hand away. 
"Bada," you warn, a little annoyed.
"It's just one meal, and I asked you to come here with me. It's only fair that I pay."
You open your mouth to protest, but the look on her face stops you.
"Fine," you grumble, shoving your wallet inside your bag. 
"Thank you," she says, giving you a small smile.
She gets up, and heads for the door. You follow her lead, getting up from the table, uneasiness settling in your stomach. 
The two of you make your way to the cash register, where the hostess greets her enthusiastically. She hands her the bill, and Bada hands her the credit card, and the hostess takes it, grazing Bada's hand with a coy smile. You glance at one of the tables nearby, contemplating how much of a hassle it'd be to gouge your eyes out with chopsticks. You decide against it, knowing that you'd probably be banned from this delicious restaurant and would never be able to return. You sigh, depressed, and when you focus on Bada again, you're caught off guard by what you witness. Bada thanks the hostess and turns to leave, not bothering to wait for the receipt. The hostess frowns and calls out a goodbye, which is met with Bada's disinterested wave. You trail behind her, raising an eyebrow at her, and she ignores your questioning look. 
Rather, Bada grabs your wrist and guides you outside. You try not to notice the way her palm feels against yours. Yet, you are unable to suppress the smirk that emerges on your face. 
Once you're outside, she drops her hand, and you're reminded of the discomfort that occurred in the restaurant.
You squint. The sun has started to set, casting a glow over the city. The streets are crowded, the hustle and bustle of people passing by.
"Give me your bag," Bada demands, holding out her hand. 
You gape at her, then clutch your backpack, surveying your surroundings for any law enforcement. "Sorry, what?" 
"Your bag. Give it to me." she repeats, her hand still extended.
"Are you trying to rob me?" you ask, baffled. 
"What? No. Why would I do that?" she clarifies, incredulous. "I'm walking you home, and we have a long way to go. Your bag is gonna get heavy. So, give it to me." she explains, wiggling her fingers.
"Oh," you say, feeling foolish. You loosen your grip on your bag. "No need for that! I can take care of myself."
She gives you an impatient look. "Do you have to argue with me about everything? Just let me walk with you, please."
"Fine," you relent, sliding the backpack off your shoulder and handing it to her.
"Thank you," she sighs. 
She takes a step closer to you, and to your surprise, laces her free arm through yours.
"Lead the way," she instructs, motioning ahead.
You stare at the place where your arms are interlocked. "What are you doing?" you question, alarmed.
"What does it look like? I'm walking with you."
"Uh, I guess," you say, your heart racing.
"Ready?"
"Sure" you mutter, defeated. 
"Let's go."
You begin walking, your arms intertwined. Your pulse is erratic, and the closeness of her is sending heat waves throughout your body. You're sure she can feel the beating of your heart.
You walk in silence, the sounds of the city filling the air.
"I'm sorry if I got a little weird back there," Bada says, breaking the silence.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I just...get a little sensitive when it comes to talking about my love life."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she admits, sighing.
"Well, that's understandable. It's hard talking about failed relationships."
"Exactly," she says, turning to look at you. "But, thank you for understanding."
You feel the weight of her stare, and a blush rises to your cheeks. What was going on with you right now?
"Don't mention it."
"Y/n," she says, her voice low.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for going to dinner with me."
"Of course," you say, your words caught in your throat.
"I had a really good time."
You can't think of a response, her brown eyes drawing you in.
"Me too," you manage.
Her mouth curves into a grin.
"Can I do something?" she whispers.
"Um, yeah, sure."
She leans in, and adjusts a strand of hair that's fallen onto your face. Your breathing quickens. You didn't even realize that a strand was in front of your face. Her eyes are locked onto yours, and her hand lingers on the side of your face. 
"Better," she says, her face centimeters away from yours.
You swallow. "I- uh- thank you."
She pulls away, and a sense of disappointment settles within you.
"It was nothing," she says, her eyes twinkling.
"Okay," you reply, unable to form a coherent sentence.
You're both silent again, and the rest of the walk passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're at your doorstep.
"This is it," you say, turning to her.
"This is your apartment?" 
"Yep," you confirm, reaching into your pocket for your keys.
"Alright, cool," she says, tossing you your backpack.
You catch it, the straps hitting you in the face. Please stop this madness, you think. At least you caught it. Maybe there's still hope for you. 
"Thank you," you say, slinging it onto your back. 
"Of course," she flashes you a bright smile, and your heart skips a beat. “I had a great time.”
“Me too,” you confess, your palms sweaty. "I'll see you tomorrow?" 
"Tomorrow," she echoes, her voice soft.
You're not sure what else to say, so you give her a small wave and head for the door.
"Goodnight, y/n," she calls gently, as you reach for the handle. You turn to look at her, and her eyes are shining, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
"Goodnight, Bada," you respond, giving her a smile.
She nods, and with one final glance, she turns and walks away. You watch her retreating figure, and let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"What the hell was that?" you whisper, your head spinning.
You enter your apartment. It's dark. Lusher must not be home, which makes you want to cry. You wanted to talk to her about today.  You throw yourself onto the couch. You replay the evening's events in your head, and as you do, you feel an incoming headache.
You sigh, and close your eyes. Tonight was weird. Really, really weird.
Your phone buzzes, and you grab it from the coffee table. You have one new message.
You unlock your phone, and check the message. It's from Bada.
Bada: hey, did you get inside your apartment alright?
Y/N: yes
Bada: good. i was just making sure. 
Y/N: thanks.
Bada: no problem. :)
You stare at the screen, and quickly type out a response.
Y/N: thanks for tonight. i had a really great time.
Bada: me too. 
Bada: we should do it again sometime!
Bada: I mean, other than our meet-ups for the project. 
This is when you remember for the first time since the end of dinner that the two of you are doing a project together. That was the original reason for meeting. 
You: yeah, definitely.
Bada: awesome!
Bada: sweet dreams <3
Y/N: night.
You throw your phone down. Your head is reeling. As you lay there, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the memory of her fingers brushing your cheek plays in your mind. The warmth of her touch. The softness. And her eyes. Her eyes.
You let out a sigh, and rub your temples.
"Get a hold of yourself," you mumble.
But, no matter how much you try, you can't stop the butterflies in your stomach, or the warmth in your chest. Something shifted today. Maybe it shifted from the moment you began working on this project together. With every meeting, Bada proved to you that she's not the stuck-up, self-centered person you thought she was. No. She's smart. And she's kind. So, so kind. Gentle. Talented. Nothing aligned with the image of her that you created in your head.
As much as you've tried to push these feelings away, deny them, repress them, they keep coming back. And with the way she's acting, the way she's been treating you, it feels like she may feel the same. But, what if you're wrong?
The thought scares you. If she didn't reciprocate, the embarrassment would be insurmountable. It would ruin everything. Your seemingly newfound friendship. The project. Regardless of how great tonight was, you cannot help but think back to that day in the locker rooms, and how dismayed she sounded at the thought of asking you out. Even if her feelings have shifted and she finds you attractive now, what if that's all that it is? Attraction. Lust. The thought of it makes you nauseous. You're not sure you could survive her using you and then discarding you, like some kind of toy, like the other ones. 
No, it's better to remain friends. Just friends. Besides, you're sure that these feelings will dissipate soon. They have to. Right? Maybe you'd just steer clear of her for a little while to be safe. It'll give her the space she needs to forget about this, and give you the time to bury these stupid feelings.
You decide to text her.
Y/N: hey, i'm really tired. can we reschedule tomorrow's study session for next week?
She replies almost immediately.
Bada: yeah, no problem. are you okay?
Y/N: yes
Y/N: just had a long day.
Bada: alright, take care.
Y/N: will do.
Bada: oh, and one more thing.
Y/N: ?
Bada: thank you again.
Bada: i mean it.
Bada: and i'm glad that we're friends.
Your stomach flutters. Friends. Yes. This is exactly what you need.
Bada: goodnight.
Y/N: sweet dreams.
You toss your phone onto the couch, and get up. You're exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. You need to get to bed. You trudge to the bathroom, and wash up. Then, you change, and climb into bed. As you drift off to sleep, a million thoughts are swirling through your mind. But, the one that lingers is the image of her eyes, warm and bright, staring at you.
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You're lying in bed, your laptop open, the blue light washing over you. The room is silent, save for the sounds of your keyboard, the tapping of keys. It's late. Really late. But, you can't sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. Those brown, inviting eyes.
You groan and sit up. You need a distraction. You can't use your phone, because you'd have to face the dozens of unread texts from Bada that have been collecting dust for the past couple weeks. You haven't talked to her at all since that night, even going as far as to skip the class that you have with her. It seems like she's given up trying to reach you, as today is the first day you've gone without a message from her. Thank God. 
You pull your laptop onto your lap, and open a random YouTube video.
It's a funny skit. A couple. They're arguing. About something mundane, trivial. You find yourself laughing. For a moment, you forget about her. But, the feeling doesn't last. Because, after the skit is over, the next video starts.
It's a music video. Two women. They're singing. It's a love song. You can't focus on the lyrics, the images, the sound. All you can see is her. Those eyes.
You slam the laptop shut and throw it onto the bed.
"Dammit," you mutter.
You can't think straight. Everything is clouded by her. By Bada. You're losing your mind. You need air.
You stand and walk to the window. You look outside. It's quiet. There are few cars, no people. Just the lights, casting their glow upon the buildings.
You rest your head against the window, and sigh. You've never felt this way before. It's maddening. Infuriating. But, you can't help it.
You hear your door open, and Lusher steps into the room.
"Hey," she greets.
"Hi."
"What are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep," you reply, not turning around.
Lusher leans against the wall, studying you. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Y/n," she sighs, "You know that you can tell me anything."
"I know."
"So, what's going on?"
"I don't know," you shrug.
She walks towards you and stands beside you.
"Come on," she insists, "Tell me."
"It's stupid," you grumble, shaking your head.
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Fine," you relent.
"Let's hear it," she presses.
"Well," you start, "It's about Bada."
Lusher smirks. "I knew it."
"You knew what?"
"That you had a crush on her."
"Wait, what?" you splutter, turning to face her.
"You're so obvious," she accuses, crossing her arms.
"No, I'm not!"
"Oh, please," she laughs, "Even when you claimed to hate her it was written all over your face. I mean, why else would you be so upset over your roommate of one day leaving you? Because you had a humongous crush on her and got embarrassed when she seemingly rejected you!"
"That's not it at all," you retort. "It was the principle! I mean, filing a complaint against me is crazy."
"Y/n," she says, gently. "You have a crush. It's normal."
"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if the feelings are reciprocated."
"You know, the day that you guys got paired up for that project, she sent me a text asking me what kind of coffee you liked. We'd never even texted before that," she reveals. 
You blink in disbelief. "What?"
"Yeah," she chuckles. "Apparently, she was trying to get on your good side and impress you."
"Wow," you mumble.
"But, I guess I ruined it for her," she jokes.
"Why'd you tell her about the coffee?"
"Because, I'm your friend. And I could tell that you liked her. A lot."
"I don't know," you say, shaking your head. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything. She's a flirt, and she's nice to everyone."
"You're not wrong. But, y/n, you gotta trust your instincts. If you feel something, go for it."
"Maybe," you respond, not sure if you're convinced.
"Just don't sit here and dwell on it," she says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"Can we get out of here?" you ask, still wanting a distraction.
"Sure. Where to?"
"Anywhere. The library. A bar. A club. Just, not here."
"Alright," she says, grinning. "Let's go."
Lusher brings you to a house party. You're not in the mood, but she manages to convince you to come. After a couple of drinks, you're feeling a bit more relaxed. The music is loud, and the crowd is rowdy, but you don't mind. It's a welcome distraction from your thoughts.
"There she is," Lusher shouts, pointing to a familiar figure.
It's Bada. Her hair is tied into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a short-sleeved patterned button-down shirt, black baggy pants. She looks good, as always. She's dancing with a group of friends. There are a couple women standing suspiciously close to her, giving her heart eyes. 
"Do you want to say hi?" Lusher asks, nudging you.
"No," you yell over the noise, "She looks like she's having fun. We should leave her alone."
She gives you a pitiful look and sighs. "If you say so."
You take another sip of your drink. You watch her as she dances, her hips swaying, her arms above her head. She looks happy. Carefree. You can't help but admire her, even now, in this house full of people. She's beautiful. Ethereal. The way the light catches her hair, her skin. She's captivating.
"Excuse me," a voice interrupts your train of thought.
You turn around. It's Aiki. 
It's settled. Someone has invoked a curse on you, and you're doomed to suffer incessant encounters with unattainable women who have broken your heart until the end of time.
"Hey, Aiki," you greet, attempting to hide your discomfort.
"Hey," she responds, her gaze flickering to Lusher. "And who's this?"
"I'm Lusher, y/n's best friend. We went to school together. I'm also on the dance team."
"Oh, right! The famous Lusher," she exclaims, offering her hand. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."
"Same," she nods, taking her hand.
Aiki's attention returns to you. "Y/n, I didn't expect to see you here," she notes, sipping her beer.
"Yeah, well, here I am," you laugh awkwardly.
"You should come dance with us," she invites, motioning towards the crowd.
"No, thanks. I'm not much of a dancer."
"Really? You looked pretty good when we danced together," she comments, smiling.
You laugh. "Trust me, that was a one-time thing."
"Aw, come on. I'd love to see you dance again," she insists.
"No, really. It's not happening," you say, holding up your hands.
"Oh, c'mon. Just one dance," she begs, taking a step closer.
You mull this over, tapping your fingers against your cup. "Well, maybe just one."
"Yes!" she cheers, grabbing your hand.
You glance at Lusher, who offers an encouraging thumbs-up.
Aiki leads you to the dance floor, and the two of you join the throng of sweaty bodies. She begins to dance, her hips gyrating, her arms raised above her head.
"C'mon," she urges, "Join me."
You hesitate, not wanting to embarrass yourself, but her enthusiasm is infectious.
You begin to move, swaying your hips to the beat.
She steps closer, her hand finding its way to your waist. "That's it," she praises, her voice low and seductive.
Your pulse quickens. You can't help but be reminded of the last time the two of you were this close, the night when she asked you out.
Her grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches, and your eyes lock.
"Y/n," she whispers, her lips inches from yours.
Your heart hammers in your chest. You feel her fingers trailing along your side, her body pressed against yours. The music drowns out all rational thought. All that matters is her, the heat of her touch, the sound of her voice. Her breath is warm against your cheek. Her hand caresses your neck, drawing you closer. Your eyes flutter closed, and—
A heavy weight comes crashing into the two of you, sending the both of you stumbling backward.
"Watch it," you snap, looking over to see the culprit.
And it's Bada, of course.
She's holding a red cup, staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression. 
"Sorry," she mutters, taking a step back.
 You glance at Aiki, who looks like she's bordering on being concussed, and then settle your gaze back on Bada. 
"Bada? Where the hell did you come from?" you question, rubbing your forehead.
Her jaw clenches. "Nowhere."
You let out a short, dry, disbelieving snort. “That explains a bunch.”
"Sorry," she repeats. "I tripped."
"Right," you say, not believing her.
"Where have you been?" she asks, taking a small sip of her drink. You study her face, noticing the pink flush on her cheeks. You'd assume it was the alcohol, but she doesn't seem drunk. 
"Around," you answer, crossing your arms.
"Well, I didn't see you at class," she points out, taking another sip.
"I was busy," you lie, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.
"So busy you couldn't even give me a heads up?"
"Yup," you reply, popping the p.
"What about our project?"
"Is that all you care about?" you retaliate.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, sucking in a breath. "No, but-"
"Um," Aiki pipes up, lifting herself off of the floor. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No!" you say. 
 "Yes," Bada responds at the same time, venom laced through her voice.
"Bada," you growl, glaring at her. "Stop."
"Well, are you not done?"
"Done with what?"
 "Her," she spits. 
 "Alright, well," Aiki interjects, holding up her hands. "I'm done! I'm gonna head out, Y/N. I'll catch you later...or not." Aiki says, fast-walking away with a limp.
"Bada," you whisper, anger bubbling up in your throat.
"What?" she says, her gaze piercing.
"Are you kidding me?"
"What, did I ruin your date?"
"Date?" you scoff, shaking your head. "That wasn't a date."
"Uh-huh, right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" she scoffs, stepping forward.
"Yes, you!"
"You're the one who's being difficult here, y/n. Not me." she retorts, setting her drink down on a nearby table.
"How am I being difficult? All I've done is try and do the project. I've put up with all your shit."
"Forget about the stupid project! This is about us."
"There is no us," you shout, jabbing your finger into her chest.
"I know you don't mean that."
"You're unbelievable," you grumble, pushing past her, up the stairs.
"Don't walk away from me," she demands, chasing after you.
"Leave me alone, Bada."
"No," she protests, reaching for your wrist.
You stop, turning around. "I told you to stop," you yell, shoving her away.
"I'm not going anywhere," she warns, her eyes narrowed.
"God," you groan, massaging your temples. "You're impossible."
"And you're being a coward," she snaps.
"Coward?"
"You're avoiding me," she states, her voice steady and calm.
"Maybe I am," you fire back.
"Why?"
"Because, you're exhausting," you explain, throwing your hands up.
"Exhausting," she echoes.
"Yes, exhausting," you affirm. "I can't stand you, Bada. You're arrogant and conceited and-"
"You want me," she interjects, her voice barely above a whisper.
"W-what?"
"You. Want. Me," she repeats, each word slow and deliberate.
"I-I..." you stammer, rendered mute. You were not prepared for this level of confrontation. This is not how you expected tonight to go in the slightest. You couldn't tell Bada  you wanted her, even if you did. And, now, you know you do. More than anything. You've been wanting her for so long. But it's not like she wants you back in the same way.
"Tell me that I'm wrong."
"Bada, I—"
"Tell me that I'm wrong, and I'll never bring it up again."
You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your tongue.
"See," she laughs, though there's no humor behind it.
"Shut up," you murmur, massaging your forehead. 
"No," she defies, stepping closer.
"You're so annoying," you complain, turning around.
She follows you. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know," you answer truthfully, stomping further up the staircase.
"Y/n," she pleads, grabbing your arm. "Just tell me that I'm wrong."
"Bada, let it go."
"Tell me," she begs. 
You turn around, infuriated, your veins pulsating. "What is the point of this? Do you just want me to tell you that I want you so that you can feel good about yourself?"
"The point of it is that I like you, y/n! I really, really, like you. And you keep pushing me away! Why?" She exclaims, throwing her hands up. 
You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you're too angry to care. Bada's confession should give you some solace, but it only makes the ache in your chest stronger. You need to get out of here. Get away from her. You can't deal with this anymore. You can't take it. She's too much. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know how badly it'd wound you if things didn't work out. If she ended up hurting you. Or worse, forgetting about you. 
"Because," you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling, attempting to calm yourself down. “I don't want to get hurt."
“Y/n," she says gently, stepping forward.
"Don't," you warn.
"I would never hurt you," she reassures, her hand cupping your cheek.
You stare into her eyes, searching for any trace of dishonesty, but find none.
"I would never intentionally hurt you," she corrects, a sad smile on her face.
"Bada," you mumble, her hand warm on your skin.
"I know you're scared," she continues, her voice soft and soothing. "But I promise, I'll take care of you."
"Bada, you don't understand," you argue, stepping back.
"Then help me understand."
"I..." you trail off, unsure of how to continue. "I like you. I like you a lot. But I just cant stop thinking about that whole roommate situation. And...I heard you say something in the locker rooms one day when I was visiting Lusher."
Her eyebrows furrow. "What'd you hear?"
"You said that you didn't want to me. At all," you explain, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
"Oh, y/n," she sighs. "That's not true."
"What?"
"I've liked you for a long time. Probably since I first saw you. That's actually why I switched rooms. I didn't think you'd be into me, and I was afraid of rejection, so I ran away," she confesses, her gaze cast downward.
"Bada," you breathe, shocked.
"But I'm done being scared. And I'm tired of running," she declares, looking back up.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I'm not going anywhere," she promises, taking your hands.
"Bada, are you sure? This is a lot."
"I've never been more sure about anything," she states, her tone firm. "But are you going to stop running too?"
"Bada, I—"
"Please, y/n. Take a chance on me." she requests, squeezing your hands.
 Was the risk worth it? Were you willing to put your heart on the line? Would she keep her promise and not break your heart? The questions flood your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. But, when you look into her eyes, the answer is a clear yes. Because, really, now that everything was on the table, when did she ever give you reason to doubt her? When did she not deliver? Maybe it was time for you to have some faith in her, just like she has faith in you, right now.
You exhale. "Okay," you relent.
"You will?"
"Yes,” you nod, vigorously. “Let’s give this a try."
"Yay!" she exclaims, pulling you into a hug. You laugh, wrapping your arms around her waist.
"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. I felt so awkward and shy around you, I didn't know what to do" she apologizes, burying her face in the crook of your neck.
"It's okay," you say, running your hands along her back.
She removes herself from the embrace, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She studies your face, her eyes roaming over your features.
"Can I kiss you?" she questions, her thumb caressing your cheek.
"I guess so," you shrug, feigning nonchalance with a sly smile on your face. Deep down, you've been waiting for this moment since the day the two of you met. You've dreamed about what it would feel like, how her lips would taste. You've thought about it while lying awake in bed at night, while doing homework. It's a constant, nagging thought. Her face draws closer to yours, and your eyelids flutter closed. You feel her breath fan across your lips. Your heart beats rapidly. Then, finally, her lips meet yours, and everything else fades away. It's like nothing you've ever experienced before. It's tender and passionate, sweet and perfect. You wrap your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. As she holds you in her arms, your fears disappear, and a new feeling takes their place. A feeling of warmth, safety, happiness—more than that. When you part, the both of you are breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide, filled with wonder. You're sure your expression mirrors hers. Neither of you say a word. Instead, you just stand there, drinking in each other's presence. You're not sure how long you stay like that. 
Eventually, she lets out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence. "Was that okay?" she asks, biting her lip.
"Yes," you confirm. "More than okay."
"Good," she beams, pecking your lips. "Want to go back downstairs?" she offers.
"Actually, can we go to my place? Lusher will be gone," You suggest, hoping she catches the hint. You can't help but glance at her lips. You're eager to have her all to yourself. To be alone with her. To do whatever the two of you want. If the blush creeping up her cheeks is any indication, she knows exactly what you're insinuating. She nods, and the two of you descend the stairs, hands intertwined. She stops to grab her jacket, and once the two of you make it outside, the crisp, night air hits you. It's cool, and refreshing. As the two of you begin your walk to the apartment, she leans in, her shoulder brushing against yours. The contact sends a shiver down your spine. You can't believe how close the two of you are. How intimate it feels. It's a welcome change from the distance you've forced upon the two of you for the past few weeks. A small part of you is afraid. But a larger, stronger part of you is excited. Excited to explore this newfound intimacy, and whatever may lie ahead. And for the first time in a while, you feel genuine hope.
"Here," she offers, draping her jacket over your shoulders.
"Thank you," you murmur, wrapping it around yourself.
The two of you hop in Bada's car, the engine purring to life. 
"You cold?" she asks, turning the heater on.
"Yeah, a little," you admit, rubbing your hands together.
"Here," she offers, taking your hands in hers. You look down, watching as she runs her thumbs over your knuckles. "Better?"
"You're cheesy," you tease, rolling your eyes. Though secretly, her touch does make you feel warmer. Better. It makes your heart swell with affection, and the corners of your mouth turn up. It's like her presence is melting the ice surrounding your heart.
"I like cheesy," she counters, grinning.
"I'm lactose intolerant," you retort.
"Oh, no," she pouts, feigning concern. "Guess I'll have to come up with some other way to make you happy."
"I can think of a few things," you flirt, giving her a coy smile.
She just smiles, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After what feels like an eternity, the two of you pull up, and Bada turns the car off. She hops out, making her way to the passenger side door, opens it, and extends her hand. You take it, and allow her to lead the way. The two of you climb the steps to the apartment, tension growing thick. Once you reach the front door, she lets go of your hand. You immediately miss the contact, and your heart rate picks up. You unlock the door, and step inside. She follows behind you, closing the door and locking it for you.
"It's freezing," Bada says.
"Yeah, sorry," you say, closing the door. "The heating's broken. It should be fixed by tomorrow, though."
"It's fine," she assures, wrapping her arms around you from behind. 
You lean back, savoring her warmth. You've fantasized about this more than you'd like to admit.
"Bedroom?" she whispers, kissing your temple.
You nod, tugging her through the apartment and into your bedroom. Bada shuts the door, and you turn to her, staring into her eyes.
"Hi," you whisper, placing a hand on her chest.
"Hi," she whispers back, placing her hand over yours.
You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. She reciprocates, capturing your lips with hers. Her hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer.
You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. Your hands move to her hair, tugging lightly.
She moans into your mouth, her grip tightening on your hips.
You pull back, gazing into her eyes.
"You're so pretty," she murmers, her thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.
"So are you," you counter, smiling.
She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. The two of you stay like that for a moment, drinking each other in. Finally, you pull back, grabbing her hand. You shove her onto the bed, and then fall on top of her, your legs straddling her hips.
"Hey," she giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist.
"Hey," you reply, a smile on your face.
"You're so annoying," she says, leaning in. 
"And yet, you're here," you point out. 
She ignores this, deciding to press a kiss to your lips, her fingers moving up your back. You sigh into her mouth, your body relaxing against hers. She slides her tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you. Her hands move to your ass, squeezing. You roll your hips, grinding against her. She groans, her grip on your ass tightening. She sits up, her lips never leaving yours. She scoots back on the bed, her legs spread, and you sit between them, still straddling her.
"You're such a tease," she says, her voice husky.
"Oh, yeah?" you ask, smirking. "How's this for a tease?"
You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing circles on her stomach, her abs. You can tell she's not wearing a bra. 
"I don't know," she sighs, her head falling back. "Keep going, and we'll see."
You lean down, peppering kisses along her jawline. She tilts her head, giving you better access. You suck on her pulse point, her breath hitching.
You move lower, kissing and sucking her neck.
She groans, her hand tangling in her hair. You smirk at this, trailing kisses down her chest. You unbutton her shirt, exposing her breasts. You take a nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the stiff peak. She lets out a string of curses, her grip on your hair tightening. You give her other nipple the same attention, relishing the noises coming from her. You trail your hands down her sides, settling on her thighs.
You're about to give her a command when, suddenly, she stops you, pushing your head away. 
Before you can protest, she grips onto your waist and flips you over. You let out a squeak of surprise. 
She stares down at you, a smug grin on her face.
"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice breathy.
"What am I doing?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I'm getting revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Yeah," she replies, her hand snaking its way up your shirt. "For teasing me."
"How do you plan on doing that?"
She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I think I'm going to start with..."
She trails off, her gaze focused on your pants.
"What are you—" you're cut off by her hand moving to the button of your pants, undoing it.
She slides the zipper down, revealing the lace of your underwear.
"Nice," she murmurs, a grin on her face.
You're about to reply, when she moves her hand beneath the fabric, cupping you.
"Oh," you breathe, your hips bucking into her touch.
She begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, causing you to writhe underneath her.
"You're so wet," she states, her fingers picking up speed.
"All for you," you manage to get out, your breath ragged.
"That's what I like to hear," she says, slipping a finger inside you.
"Oh, fuck," you moan, your back arching.
She adds another, long, finger, stretching you.
"You're so tight," she marvels, pumping her fingers in and out.
You moan, grinding against her hand. She curls her fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside you.
"F-fuck," you curse, your walls clenching around her digits.
"Such a dirty mouth," she scolds, adding a third finger. She moves her mouth to your neck, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.
You pant, your toes curling as her pace increases. She hums in response, her fingers curling inside you, her thumb pressing against your clit.
"Fuck, Bada," you moan, gripping onto her wrist.
"You close, baby?" she asks, her breath hot against your neck.
"Y-yeah," you stammer, your hips meeting the movements of her fingers.
"Gonna cum," you mumble, your vision blurry.
"Mm-hmm," she nods, her gaze intense.
"Fuck," you cry out, and as your climax approaches, she removes her hand, leaving you frustrated and empty.
"Bada," you gasp, panting. "What the fuck?"
"I'm not finished with you," she states, a mischievous grin on her face.
"I wasn't either," you pout.
"We'll see about that," she teases, her hands moving to the hem of your shirt. She pulls it over your head, tossing it to the floor.
She gazes down at you, a hungry look in her eyes.
"Take those off," she orders, gesturing to your pants.
You oblige, sliding the rest of garment off and kicking it to the side.
"Good," she praises, a smirk on her face.
She stands, removing her shirt, pants, and boxers, her toned body exposed. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of her. She crawls on top of you, her body hovering over yours. She kneels in front of you, her fingers ghosting over your skin.
"So, you gonna finish what you started?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know," she says, a glint in her eye. "I might."
She kisses you, her lips soft and pliant. You part your lips, allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth.
"Bada," you groan, tangling a hand in her hair.
"What is it, baby?" she murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.
"Need you," you whisper, your hips bucking into hers.
"What do you need?" she breathes, her hand ghosting down your torso.
"Your fingers, your mouth, everything," you reply, a whimper escaping your throat.
"Everything, huh?" she teases, her fingers dipping beneath the hem of your underwear.
"Fuck, please," you beg, arching your back.
"Since you asked so nicely," she replies, her voice dripping with desire.
She ducks her head, her lips trailing kisses down your chest, her hands pushing your underwear down. You kick the last bit of fabric off, leaving you bare before her.
"Beautiful," she murmurs, her fingers circling your clit.
"Ah, fuck," you moan, your hands gripping the sheets.
She sucks on your inner thigh, her tongue tracing patterns on your skin, her fingers never stopping their ministrations. She spreads your legs, her hands pushing your knees up, exposing your wet, aching center. She exhales, her gaze hungry. She places an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, her tongue lapping up your juices. You keen, your hands finding her hair.
"More," you plead, your hips canting.
"Whatever you want," she promises, her fingers digging into your flesh.
She dives in, her tongue flicking across your clit, her nose brushing against the sensitive nub. You cry out, your body writhing beneath her. She wraps her lips around your clit, sucking hard. Your toes curl, and a low, guttural moan escapes your throat. She hums in response, her eyes boring into yours. She presses a finger to your entrance, her tongue continuing its assault on your clit.
"Please," you rasp, your breathing ragged.
She enters you, her digit pumping in and out.
"F-fuck," you swear, your head rolling back.
She adds a second finger, her tongue swirling around your clit.
"Bada, I'm close," you warn, your walls tightening.
She hums, her fingers curling inside you, her mouth closing over your clit, sucking hard, and you chant, your hands tangled in her hair.
Your climax crashes into you, and you cry out, stars exploding behind your eyelids. She works you through it, her fingers coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you.
You pant, your body trembling. She smirks, pulling her fingers out of you.
"Tired already?" she teases, wrapping her arms around you.
She grins, capturing your lips with hers, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. You melt into the kiss, your arms encircling her. 
"Get some rest," she suggests, pulling away. 
You pout. "But what about you," your gaze trailing down her naked form.
"I'm fine, we'll continue this another time," she reasons, kissing your temple.
"Fine," you relent, cuddling up to her and nuzzling her neck.
She rests her chin on top of your head, her hand gently rubbing your back.
"I'm really glad we met," you murmur, the exhaustion finally catching up with you.
"Me too," she replies, kissing the top of your head.
"You're gonna stay the night, right?"
"Of course," she affirms, giving you a squeeze.
"Good," you mumble, drifting off.
You smile, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, your eyelids growing heavy.
She whispers something that you can't quite hear, but before you can ask her what it is, sleep overtakes you.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
You wake up the next morning to find Bada fast asleep beside you. You roll over, facing her. She's on her back, one arm draped over her stomach, the other above her head. She's snoring lightly, her features relaxed. You try not to coo at how adorable she looks, and instead, get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom.
You take a quick shower, and then put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. When you walk back into the bedroom, Bada's sitting up, her phone in her hand.
"Morning," you greet, crawling onto the bed and sitting next to her.
"Morning," she replies, her gaze focused on her phone.
"What are you looking at?"
"The news. Look,' she answers, handing her phone to you.
You read the headline.
'Improved conditions for the girls' basketball team after protests'.
"Oh, wow," you say, surprised.
"Yeah," she smiles, taking her phone back.
"Our project is kind of fucked now," you realize.
"Nah, it'll probably be fine. We'll just talk to the professor about it,"  she assures, putting her phone on the nightstand.
"What time is it, anyway?"
"12:30."
"Really? I thought it was earlier," you state.
"Well, we didn't get much sleep," she teases, a grin on her face.
"I wonder why," you reply, rolling your eyes.
She smiles wider and gives you a peck on the cheek. You laugh, her lips tickling you, your heart overflowing with joy. You felt like you were dreaming. Speaking of which, you suddenly remembered what she had whispered to you last night.
"Hey," you say, gently pushing her off of you.
"What's up?"
"Last night, right before I fell asleep, you said something," you start, trying to remember exactly what it was.
"Oh," she laughs, a blush forming on her cheeks.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing, just... nothing," she says, shaking her head.
"Bada," you urge, poking her side.
"Ugh, fine," she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I, uh, I said I love you."
Your eyes widen in disbelief. "What?!" you gasp, 
Her face flushes with embarrassment. "I know, it's stupid, and you don't have to say it back or anything, but I-,"
"Bada, shut up," you interrupt, pressing a finger to her lips.
"Huh?"
"I love you, too," you reveal, smiling.
"R-really?" she splutters, gazing at you in astonishment. 
"Yes," you chuckle, kissing her forehead. 
"Wow," she whispers, staring into the distance.
You laugh. "What, did you think I wouldn't say it back?"
"Well, I didn't really know," she admits, scratching her head.
"Of course I do," you insist, cupping her face.
She stares at you, her eyes wide. You stare back, your thumbs caressing her cheeks. Your heart swells as you smile at her, and her lips tug up into a smile. There's something so endearing about the way her eyes sparkle, her skin glows.
Then, she pounces on you, showering you in kisses.
"Hey, stop!"
"No," she giggles, her lips trailing down your jawline.
"Bada, seriously," you laugh, trying to push her off.
"Nope," she declares, her hands roaming under your shirt.
"Oh, my God," you sigh, giving in to her affection.
You hold her close, your arms wrapped around her. As she's getting increasingly handsy, you hear the door slam open.
"Okay y/n, TIME TO WAKE UP! I cannot believe you left the party without-" Lusher stops in the doorway, gasping as she lays her eyes on the scene before her. 
"Fuck," you curse, scrambling out from under Bada and falling onto the floor.
"Oh god," Bada mutters, standing up.
"Lusher, please-"
"Bada?!" Lusher screams, her eyes wide. "Oh! My! God! How did this happen? Wait."
You groan. Here we go. "Lusher, please let us enjoy our-"
"God I'm glad you two finally got together. I was sooo tired of hearing you two mope about how into each other you were. It's about time, seriously."
"Lusher."
"Sorry, you know, I had weird premonition when I fell asleep that you guys hooked up, but I wasn't sure. Guess I'm a psychic," Lusher exclaims, giddily.
"Lusher."
"Okay, well, I'm glad it's true. And also, I'm very happy for you. Anyway, I'm going to go now," she announces, backing out of the room.
"Thanks, Lusher," Bada laughs.
"No problem. Also, by the way, I'm going to be a bridesmaid at the wedding."
"LUSHER."
"What? Okay, I'm going, I'm going. Bye!" she shouts, shutting the door.
"Oh, my God," Bada mutters, sitting back on the bed.
"Yeah," you agree, crawling back onto the bed and plopping next to her.
"She's a character."
"That's an understatement," you laugh.
"Anyway," Bada continues, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Wait, what are you-,"
She pins you down, a smirk on her face. "Back to what we were doing!"
To Lusher's dismay, you and Bada spend the rest of the day locked away in your room, the two of you only coming out to grab snacks. And you couldn't be happier with how everything turned out. You almost laugh, remembering how hard you tried to convince yourself that you didn't have feelings for her, how you didn't want to date her, how she was out to get you.
But now, here you are, your head resting on her chest, her arms wrapped around you, her body pressed against yours. It's a dream come true.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
318 notes · View notes
wandussyfantasy · 7 months
Text
I Want You
Summary: Kate Bishop lets everyone know that she wants you.
Request: (From Ao3) I NEED a part 2 of this!! Like Kate cornering y/n at school and begs her to f her cus she can't think of anything else.Ooh and some jealous Kate would be awesome
Pairing: Kate Bishop x g!p Reader
Word count: 2.9k
WARNINGS:
18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!
smut, name calling, g!preader, praising, creampie, mentions of alcohol.
𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
“Oh yeah, that is so good,” Kate fakes the moan as she is being fucked by a guy she knew in high school. He used to be known as the hottest guy in school that every girl wanted. Even Kate wanted him as much as the next girl. But now, as he is thrusting into her in a shitty bathroom of an even shittier bar, she can’t remember what the big deal was. It certainly wasn’t his dick.  
“Yeah, you like that baby? I know you love that dick,” he says as he starts to go faster. 
Kate tries not to laugh or respond with something sarcastic like, “I can't even feel it.” And instead says, “Oh yeah, it's so good.” She was home for the winter break between semesters and she hated every second of it. She was miserable. Not because her mom dropped a bomb on her by introducing her new fiance to Kate for the first time. Not because her best friend wasn’t talking to her. It’s not even the cold weather or the bad sex. It’s because of you. She can’t stop thinking about you. She can’t stop craving you. 
She doesn't understand why she wants you so bad. The two of you barely fucked in the backseat of your car. But then she remembers the size of your cock, it causes her to moan as she imagines the way it stretched her. She remembers the way your cum felt inside of her and how she refrained from flirting the rest of the night so that no one else got a taste of it before she could. Then when she was in her room at the sorority house, she fingered the cum out of her pussy and ate as much of it as she could.
This wasn't her, she wasn't someone that craved cum or even dick for that matter. People craved her, not the other way around. Elijah stops thrusting as he empties himself into the condom and Kate is relieved that he's finally done. “Did you cum?” He asks through rough breaths. 
“Oh yeah, that was amazing,” she says as she readjusts her underwear and her skirt. “This was fun.”
“Uh, can I call you?” Elijah asks awkwardly as he tucks himself back into his jeans. 
“No, I'm good,” she says as she steps out of the bathroom. She makes her way back to the building that she inherited when she turned eighteen. Her apartment sits above an old pizza shop that contributes to her bills with the rent they pay. Once she is settled in her sweatpants on her couch, she checks the requests on her OnlyFans account to see if any of them sound like they could be from you. 
After that night when you threw her secret account in her face as an attempt of an insult, she went through her subscribers to try and find you. But she couldn't. She didn't know if you stopped subscribing after you finally got to fuck her or if you were better at hiding your identity than she was. 
A request catches her eye and she considers going through with it now since she is still hot and bothered. She looks around her apartment and decides that since she needed a shower anyway, that she might as well. All they wanted was a private live stream of her showering with a dildo inside of her. They offered a decent amount of money to see it happen. She messaged the person to see if they were available. 
Luckily, you had just laid down in bed and were getting ready to browse her page when you received the message. You only have yourself to blame for not getting her phone number before the two of you left school for the break. But you still didn't want to admit that you subscribed to her page so instead you opted to remain anonymous when sending the request. 
You lick your lips as you reply back and you unbutton the crotch area of your sleep pants to free your limp dick to prepare yourself. Once she sends the link to the stream you squeeze some lube on your hand and get ready for the show. You wanted to pretend that you got the chance to fuck her in her shower so you asked that she fuck herself in there. 
You open the stream and it's her standing in her shower. The water is running down her body and you lick your lips again. You didn't get to appreciate her body that night the two of you fucked and you wish you could now. You imagine yourself kneeling before her. Kissing her smooth skin on her belly. Licking away all of the water droplets as you stroke yourself. Your dick starts to come alive, hardening in your hand as you watch her wash herself. It looks like she's taking a normal shower. Which she might be. Making the experience feel somewhat invasive but because you paid for it, you know that there isn’t anything wrong so you continue to watch. 
Then she steps out of the shower for a moment and you get a full view of the breasts you wish were in your mouth right now. She leaves the frame and returns with a dildo with a suction end. She sticks it to the wall and you almost laugh at the size, it’s not even close to the cock in your hand. You begin to wonder if you’re the biggest she’s ever had. As she begins to ride the wall you pick up the pace of your stroking. A message pops up on your screen stating that for an extra charge you can request more from her. You type in that you want her to moan the name of the person she is thinking about. 
The message gets read out from a robotic voice, probably a setting on her device. “I’m only thinking about you baby,” she replies as she continues to push herself back and forth on her dildo. She wasn’t technically lying, neither of you knew that she was telling the truth. She thought she was lying to a stranger as she thought about you and you thought she was lying when she said it was you. So you continue to push, luckily with no extra cost. When she’s finally close enough to her climax she finally moans out, “Y/n!!” This causes you to cum in your hand. Then you panic as you think that you’ve been caught. But she pops off of the wall and shuts the water off. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to say that.” 
You tell her that it’s okay and let her know that you finished. You give her an extra tip and she shuts down the live stream. You clean your mess and fall asleep. 
You don't spend anymore money on Kate the rest of the break in fear of getting caught or telling her in the heat of the moment. But you spend every night jerking off to her account. Hoping that when you return to school that you'll get at least a second chance to fuck her. If not, you're not sure how you'll learn to move on from her. 
At some point in the break you buy yourself a pocket pussy because your hand just wasn't enough when it came to fantasizing about Kate. Meanwhile Kate is masturbating to your Instagram account. She watches your exercise videos and zooms in on your progress photos, hoping to see the outline of your cock through your sweatpants. Oh what she would give to fuck you again. You have ruined her for anyone else. 
Finally, the spring semester starts and has the both of you distracted with the piles of assignments that they start everyone off with. Neither of you is thinking about the other nor are you having any sex for that matter. But the universe is on your side when you spot her during a lecture in a class with a long list of group projects on the syllabus. The perfect excuse to spend time together. 
Unfortunately, there isn't a lot of free time as you focus on your studies. It's what has always kept you single. It's not until the second month of the semester that you're able to breathe again. By that point you're not even sure that Kate would be interested in you so you start to move on. Especially since the two of you worked twice together in group projects and she seemed interested in everyone else but you.
Cassie Lang, a girl in your Quantum Physics class, catches your attention. Or more accurately, you catch her attention. The two of you become flirty with each other pretty openly. When you start to attend parties on the weekends again, the two of you somehow find each other and spend the time talking and laughing with each other. It doesn't go beyond that. Part of you thinks she only wants to be friends or that maybe she's wanting to experiment a little. But you don't mind the company or the attention. 
Kate can't focus when she notices you with that air headed blonde bitch. Especially when the two of you sit next to each other in class a few rows in front of Kate. She hates seeing you flirt with another girl. She thought that you would come to her once classes started up again. She thought you would make an excuse to talk to her after class. Try to get her alone for a "study session." She thought that she could make you jealous again. But no. Instead you're flaunting your attention to another girl in front of her. Well, she wasn't going to stand for it much longer. 
She convinces your brother, Peter, and his fraternity to host a big party after the big basketball game later that week. A win or lose celebration. Either way, there had to be a party. Peter and his fraternity brothers are all for it. Then she makes certain that you attend by having someone invite Cassie. She wanted to make sure this girl knew that you belonged to Kate. She wanted everyone to know that you are Kate's now. 
Saturday comes around with a big victory for the school's basketball team. Which means that the party is going wild. The music is loud, everyone is drinking copious amounts of alcohol. You attended the game with Cassie and brought her along to the party. It was sort of an official and an unofficial date for the two of you. Neither of you let the other know what it was and neither of you put any kind of pressure on the situation. Just simply enjoying the company. 
That is until two beers and several shots in you start to get horny as the two of you dance with others in the living room. The sensual music playing as Cassie grinds into your body has you wanting more from her and she seems to be willing to give it. But when you gaze into her blue eyes you are reminded that they don't compare to Kate's deep blue eyes. “What’s the matter?” Cassie asks as her face is close to yours, she is still moving to the song but you are standing still.
“Nothing I just uh, I just,” you aren't able to finish your thought as Kate comes between the two of you. She holds onto your shoulder as she dances against you. “Kate? What are you doing?” 
“Dancing, come on, it's a party!” she says as continues to dance against you. 
Cassie tries to pull her off of you, “Excuse you! We were dancing!”
“And now we are,” Kate only spins to face her so that she can twerk her ass against your crotch. Your dick twitches as your body remembers how her ass was bouncing on your legs as she rode your cock with her tight walls. 
Cassie's face gets red as she grabs Kate by her hair. Your eyes widen as the two girls start to fight over… well, you. 
You had no idea that Kate still wanted you. But there's no denying it now as she tosses Cassie into the crowd. Peter and Harry find you to try and convince you of something when they get distracted by the fight. 
Peter takes a hit from his vape before he shouts, “Cat fight!” 
You shake your head as he draws attention to the whole debacle. You take the cup from Harry's hand and down the entire beverage before you step into the fight to try and break it up. 
“Cut it out! I'm really not worth it!” you shout as you pull Kate off of Cassie. 
“You have to choose!” Kate shouts in your arms. 
“Last I checked, you're not even an option bitch!” Cassie shouts back. The crowd's reaction is pro-Cassie and you feel awkward being caught in the middle of this. 
You set Kate down on her feet and look between her and Cassie, then to the rest of the room and shake your head as you walk out of the party. People throw their empty cups at you on your way out for not picking one of the girls. Once you're outside you take a moment to breathe. Cassie comes out of the house a few minutes later. “What the fuck was that?” 
You look down at your feet. “I don't know Cassie, what was that?” 
“She was getting in the way I just-”
“It didn't need to get that physical!” You cut her off as you spin to face her. “It didn't need to be a big spectacle but you made it that way!” You close your eyes to stop yelling. “You aren't who I thought you were. I can't continue whatever this is.” You state before you walk away. Walking all the way back to your dorm building. 
On Monday afternoon, when you're moving from one class to the next a hand reaches out for you and pulls you into an empty lecture hall. “It's just me,” Kate says as she pushes you up against a wall. “I’m sorry about Saturday. I only wanted to kiss you in front of everyone. I didn't want all of that to happen.” She explains with soft hopeful eyes. “I was going crazy from wanting you so bad. I haven't been able to fuck anyone else because I want you so bad.”
You frown as you see a bandage on her nose and on her cheek with a cut on her bottom lip. You gently caress her cheek. “You haven't talked to me in months. When I tried to catch your attention you ignored me,” you state as you pull your hand away. 
“I was trying to get you to be the person you were that night,” she says truthfully. “I didn't know how else to get your attention.” 
“You've always had my attention,” you tell her before you finally kiss her. Kate leans into the kiss hungrily. “Tonight,” you say as you try to pull away thinking about how you're going to be late for class. Kate bites your bottom lip and it turns you on even more. You can't go to class with a raging erection. “Fuck it,” you say as you grab her and flip the position so that she is pressed against the wall. You drop your backpack to the ground and quickly unzip your pants. You pull your cock out through the opening and Kate gasps as she is finally able to see the size in the light. She doesn't even have to touch herself to know that she is dripping wet. 
You slip your hand up her skirt to move her panties to the side but instead you instantly come in contact with her warm pussy lips. “I needed to be prepared for this,” she says with innocent eyes when you looked up at her with a shocked expression. You shake your head at your predictability then kiss her. 
“I apologize for how quick this is going to be, I really can't miss this class,” you say as you enter her without warning. “Oh fuck!” you say in celebration of finally being able to be inside of her after months and months of pining for her. You grip her thighs as you step closer to her, getting your dick further into her pussy. “Fuck you for making me wait so long,” you say as you start to thrust into her. 
Kate groans as you fuck her against the wall. “Fuck you for dating someone else instead of asking me out!” She says back as she holds onto your neck. You slam into her a little harder after that and she is experiencing the first real orgasm in months just moments after having you inside of her. “Oh goodness! I've been waiting for this for so long!” she says as you continue to pound into her pussy. Part of you wants to savor this moment and the rest of you wants to release right here right now. “It’s okay, cum in me baby. Give yourself something to look forward to after class. Mmm the thought of you eating me out has me- OOOHH” Her walls close around you as she has another orgasm, drawing yours out of you. 
“Fuck!” you groan as you shoot all of your cum inside of her. When you pull out of her, your dick is a mess from her fluids and yours and Kate can't help herself when she kneels down and cleans you off with her tongue. “Thank you,” you say breathlessly. You tuck your cock back into your pants. “I will see you after class at my place?” Kate shakes her head. “Your place?” She nods and you agree as you grab your bag from the floor and leave with one last kiss.
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elisysd · 1 month
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11. I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you
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Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack: Daylight - Taylor Swift
You loved him. You said it first and he didn’t expect it. Never in a million years. He wasn’t expecting to hear it this soon and even less, he wasn’t expecting to hear it from you. He had always thought he would be the first to say it but wanted to wait for the perfect moment.
“Can you say it again?” he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t misheard you.
“I love you.” you smiled.
“Again?”
“I. Love. You.”
“One last time?” he insisted, putting his forehead against yours.
“I love you, Charles Leclerc.”
He laughed lightly before twirling you around and kissing you like his life depended on it.
“I fell for you fast the minute I decided to give you a chance. It’s scary. But I’m not scared to love you. That, I’m not. I just don’t know how people would eventually react or say…”
“I don’t give a fuck about what people say. I know what we are, I know what you feel for me and you know what I feel for you. This is what matters the most.”
“And what are you feeling for me?” you teased him.
“Love. Unconditional love.” 
“You’re cute but we can’t ignore that this is making my job more and more difficult. It will come back to bite me in the ass at some point.”
“It will be alright.” he reassured you.
“Easy for you to say. Your job is not on the line… me, on the other hand? If I lose it because of that, I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I’m not rich like you, I have a rent to pay and try to rent in Paris, you’ll see how awful it is. I’m losing my job, I'm losing my apartment. It is as simple as that.”
It had the effect to act as a wake up call for Charles. He might have an easy life but it wasn’t the case for everyone. He gulped and took your face between his hands.
“If it ever comes to that, which I doubt, we will find a way. I’m not giving up on you. I love you too much to do that.”
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You met your colleagues at the airport after having to rush out of Charles’ room and embrace. He had tried, and almost achieved, to persuade you to come back home with him but you still had work to do and a flat to take care of. It was not as fun as what Charles was promising to give you, but adulthood wasn’t always fun. In the plane, next to Marion, you let your thoughts wander. The weekend was hard to process. You had not planned on confessing your feelings for him this soon. But it felt right, natural. You were already in a messy situation, you didn’t want to throw miscommunication into the mix. But still, you were standing about what you told him earlier, you were scared. Once you would tell your boss that you and Charles were in a relationship, you knew it would only be a hit or miss. Or you were going to keep your job, or you were going to lose it. There was an option you liked better than the other. If you were fired, you seriously didn’t know how you were going to make ends meet. 
“Are you okay? You frown a lot, today.” Marion noticed.
You forced a smile before replying that you were doing alright. She put a hand on your shoulder and gave you an empathetic smile.
“You know you can tell me everything, I won’t judge.”
It made you gulp. You were thankful to be in such a wonderful team, always ready to help you if needed and that thought only made you break down. Your sobs turned into a panic attack to the point Marion made you follow her at the back of the plane and made you sit on the floor, helping you calm down.
“I’m lost and confused, Marion.” you managed to say between two out of breath sounds.
“I’m here for you, always.”
She took your hands in hers and looked into your eyes. You knew you could trust her, she wouldn’t say a word, and you needed to talk about this story to someone, you couldn’t keep it to yourself any longer. So you told her everyone, from your very first encounter with Charles, to the promise you made to your late brother and finally how you fell in love with the boy in the red suit. When you were done, you felt relieved and that was only then that you understood how much keeping it secret was weighing you down.
“I’m surprised, but not totally. I noticed how you were smiling more lately and how you seemed to be more at peace with yourself. I didn’t want to pry. I won’t say a word. This is your private life and as long as it doesn’t impact your work, I don't see why it should become a problem. That being said, it’s best if you come clean to our boss. If he learns it doesn’t come from you, it will make everything harder. I’ll be there to back you up if things turn sour. But in any case, enjoy being in love. Don’t overthink it, I know Charles, he is a good guy. He will take good care of you , you can trust him.”
“Thank you, Marion. It was exactly what I needed to hear.” you whispered, a lump in your throat. “I’ll tell him. I’m just waiting for the summer break, it will be a less busy time for us, it gives me some time to prepare what I’m going to say.”
You arrived at your flat early in the evening. Dishes were still in the sink, waiting to be cleaned-up,  some clothes were laying on the couch as you had forgotten to put them back in your closet and the few plants you had were clearly in desperate need of water. Your rent was also due and you groaned in front of all the chores you had to do. You started to unpack and put your suitcase away before coming back to your living room to tidy the place. It was almost nine when you finished everything you had to do. You plopped on your couch and took your phone to see Charles’ name on your screen.
Hey, I was thinking about something. Don’t you want to come to Monaco before going to your parents? We could spend a few days together? 
You wanted to scream yes but your fears got the better hold of you and you hated yourself for it.
Your hometown? Risky, no?
There will always be a risk no matter where we are. But if it  makes you feel better we don’t have to leave my place. I’m perfectly fine having you all to myself for days. My bed is quite comfy, you’ll see. And we can watch movies and cook together. I have plenty of activities in mind which don’t require us to go to public places.
How do you know what I need to hear to feel better?
I don’t know. I just… know? Somehow?
Well, you could take back your suitcase, you had an unexpected packing session to go through.
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You arrived two days later to the address he had given you. He had argued about coming to pick you up from the train station but the last thing you wanted was to attract people’s attention. So you had walked to his place, thankfully, it wasn’t that far. As soon as you rang the doorbell, he opened it for you, pulling you inside, his lips already on yours.
“I missed you. Way too much. That’s not normal. What did you do to me?”
“If you have the answer, please tell me because I think you did the exact same thing to me.” you giggled.
He showed you around and naturally let your suitcases rest next to his, in his room.
“I changed the sheets. I spent yesterday cleaning the whole flat. I went grocery shopping too and I bought a bit of everything, I didn’t know what you liked so… I kinda went overboard. I bought chocolates and wine for your parents too. If you need anything else, I can go to the supermarket down the road, it won’t be long. I also emptied a drawer in my bathroom’s cupboard and in my closet too.”
“Charles,” you interrupted him. “It’s perfect. Everything is perfect. Don’t worry.”
“You would tell me if something was wrong, right?”
You shushed him out with a kiss, making sure he understood very well how happy you were to be with him. You felt his hand on your neck, getting you closer while, with his other hand, he easily got rid of your cardigan.
“You said your bed was comfy, right?” you whispered against his lips.
“Absolutely. Best bed ever.”
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The next three days went by a blur. It was almost like heaven, or at least if heaven was real, then being with Charles felt like it. It was easy. You fit in his environment. He loved watching you sleeping in his sheets, he loved the way you were leaving your toothpaste left open on the bathroom’s sink,  he loved seeing how grumpy you were before your first coffee in the morning, he loved the way he wasn't feeling alone anymore when you were by his side. He loved how you were correcting his way of chopping vegetables, telling him it was a miracle he still had ten fingers left. He loved how much of a sucker you were when it came to thrillers. He just loved you. 
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I know it is early but… I just know. If my brothers or friends would see me acting like this, they would think I’ve gone crazy.” he smiled as your head was resting on his chest.
“These last days with you made me realize how right I was to give us a chance. I know it won’t be easy, I know that shit will hit the fan at some point. But I also know that as long as I’m with you, it will be okay. It’s you and me against whatever obstacles will come our way.”
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You had barely slept during the night. Today was the day when you would celebrate your dad’s birthday. You hadn’t been home for the past two years and had even less contact with your parents for a few months. And now you were bringing Charles along. Throwing him into a mess he didn’t deserve to be in. You had been quiet the whole way to Avignon, watching landscapes you loved growing up in until you finally arrived at the address you had given to Charles before leaving. Your legs had bounced the whole way there and the skin around your fingers was bleeding after you had spent hours scratching it. And now that you were in front of your childhood house, you felt like throwing up, breathing shallow. Charles stopped the engine and forced you to look at him.
“Hey, look at me. It will be alright. I’m with you, every step of the way. I’m not letting go of you. If you need me to hold your hand I will, I’m not going anywhere. One look from you that you want to leave, we do. No questions asked. I’m here for you. We can do it. You can.”
“I don’t want them to poison us with judgmental looks and make me feel like a kid who doesn't know what she is doing with her life.”
“Nothing they can say will make me love you less, rest assured. I won’t let you believe whatever negative shit they might say to you. You are a smart, ambitious, stubborn, resourceful, hard working, passionate  and gorgeous woman. Don’t believe otherwise. I won’t let you, anyway.”
You smiled with difficulty, tears prickling behind your eyelids. You nodded as he kissed your forehead. He got out of the car before opening your door and taking your hand in his. You both walked to the front door of the house you loved growing up in but became a representation of a well kept cage as years went by. You knocked and a few moments later the door revealed your mom. She looked at you, up and down, not even acknowledging Charles.
“You’re late.” she finally said, making you gulp and shiver. 
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Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.
If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.
Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism @roseamongthorns13 @aundercover @snowflakesfluff @fictional-l0v3r @queensassybitchsworld @jehun @reengard
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lunajay33 · 1 month
Text
Change Part.6
•🎀🩰🩷•
Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead
Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader
A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!
Part.5
•Masterlist•
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It had been a week since the incident with the walker, Daryl refused to let me go out alone again and I didn’t blame him I didn’t want to be alone either it was too risky, it wasn’t just my life in danger, I had a baby to worry about and I refused to leave Daryl alone in a world like this, I rolled over in bed admiring his sleeping form, his hair all crazy, I love him so much and the fact that our family was just about to begin tore something from me that I always dreamed about
“Mornin” he grumbled as I ran my hand through his hair
“Sorry did I wake you?”
“Nah I was up a while ago just waiting for ya”
“Mmmm” I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy hormones or what but my mood was at an all time low and I didn’t wanna drag Daryl down too
“What’re ya thinking about” he asked as he squeezed my hip
“Nothing”
“Angel I know ya like the back of my hand, I know when yer over thinking”
I sighed hating that he’s always been able to crack me out of my shell he shown me time and time again that I can trust him with anything, he’ll we’re having a baby together why shouldn’t I tell him
“Just been thinking where my family are now, I know I haven’t talked to them in like a year but I still wonder if they’re even alive”
“The last time you talked to them they called ya a selfish slut, ya shouldn’t worry about them, all they’ve ever done was hurt ya angel, we got our own family now, one that’ll love ya more than they ever could” Daryl wasn’t much of a big speech kinda guy but when he knew I needed comforting he pushed that side of him away to be there for me
“Yeah I guess you’re right, like usual” I said laughing as he pulled me closer so I could lay my head in his chest
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I was sat in the living room curled in a blanket reading the new twilight book hearing the rain patter against the windows, the smell of a roast in the oven that Daryl had put in, right when I got to the part where Edward was leaving Bella the phone rang, Daryl at my side handed it over scoffing at the caller ID
Caller ID: Jackson L/N
“This can’t be good” I sighed clicking answer and putting it on speaker
“Hello?”
“You need to come home” not even a hi or nothing
“Why? None of you have bothered to contact me in months what is it this time?”
“Dad lost his job, mom and dad need money for rent” I could see the anger written all over Daryl’s face
“Jackson I have my own life now, I can’t be helping you guys out ever time you need money, I have bills of my own and I don’t wanna waste my money on people who don’t even care about me”
“Are you serious right now?” He asked enraged
“Why can’t you help, you’re the one that got that football scholarship, I had to work my way through university and I’m still paying off student loans, plus Daryl and I have to pay for our house and car and motorcycle”
“You know what this is done, you’re out of this family for good this time, mom and dad should’ve gotten rid of you when they had the chance you selfish slut” the phone disconnected signalling he hung up
I looked at Daryl feeling my chest tighten, I never wanted this I was never the golden child in their eyes, I only ever felt like I mattered when Daryl came into my life
“He’s lucky this was over the phone or I’d beat him into the ground” Daryl groaned rubbing my legs over the blanket
“Why am I never good enough for them?”
“Ya got that wrong Angel, they ain’t good enough for you”
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As I sat outside eating breakfast Daryl and Merle got ready for the day, Merle was going to Atlanta with some people from the camp and Daryl was going out hoping to find a deer he’s been tracking for a while
“I gotta go now Angel” Daryl said as he stung his crossbow over his shoulder
“But I don’t want you to go” I whined getting up to wrap my arms around him
“I know but I’ll be back later this evening just try and stay around the other, don’t want another problem like last week” he said placing a kiss to my cheek
“Fine just promise me you’ll be safe out there, that you’ll come back to me”
“Promise”
He picked up some extra arrows and disappeared through the tree line
“Ya got him wrapped around yer lil finger don’t ya” Merle mocked
“Come on Merle can’t you just be happy that he’s happy, I know you don’t like me much but you’re my family now and I’m yours, plus I’m carrying your niece or nephew can’t we just be cordial for once” I said exhausted from his constant bickering
“Don’t matter ta me ya got knocked up, ya made my brother soft and yer gonna see ya ruined his life” he picked up his weapons and left the camp site leaving with the Atlanta crew
“God when do I catch a break?” I sat back down in the camp chair not noticing someone sit next to me until they talked
“You okay sweetie?” It was Lori
“It’s just Merle, always a pain in my ass, just been thinking about what’s gonna happen now with the baby and everything I’m just scared” I looked at here to see if she’d give me advice but here eyes were wide
“What?” I asked confused
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yeah, I guess we never really mentioned it��
“You know when I found out I was pregnant with Carl, I was a wreck I was young and scared and didn’t know what to do with myself, but the moment I saw him curled up in my arms so little without a care in the world, I knew what I had to do to protect him from harm, everything will be okay” she smiled patting my back
“Thanks, that helps a bit I just wish it wasn’t in these circumstances”
“How far along are you?”
“About 4 months now, I’ve been taking my prenatals and everything”
“Well I’m always here if you have questions about the baby or changes you go through, but I have to go cut Carls hair”
Something clicked, maybe since this was a new start for Daryl and I and with the baby in this new world maybe I needed a new look, something to liven my spirits
“Umm Lori, would you be up for cutting my hair too!” I asked as I ran up next to her as she walked towards her camp
“I’d love to”
I sat next to Shane as Lori worked on Carls hair, he couldn’t stop complaining but it was adorable
“One day you’re gone wish you had her cutting your hair” Shane said laughing
“Doubt it”
“Trust me Carl, one day you’ll crave to be have these moments again with your mom, it may not seem like it but you will” I said seeing a little smile on his rosy cheeks
“Alright you’re all done” Lori said as she swiped off his extra hair on his shirt
I sat down in front of her as she wrapped a towel around my shoulders
“Alright how short do you want it?” My hair was down to my mid lower back
“How about just below my shoulder”
“That’s quit a chop”
“Well I need it”
She held my hair back and it a split second it was chopped, she straightened out some uneven pieces and it was done
“Well what do you think?”
“It’s really nice Mrs. Dixon!” Carl said with a beaming smile
“Well thank you but you can call me y/n sweetie” he was adorable I hope my child is as sweet as him
“It suits you perfect dear”
“Thank you! I should go clean some clothes done at the quarry, if you need anything I’ll be down there!”
I spent most of the evening down at the quarry cleaning and scribbling mine and daryls dirty clothes, laying them out on some rocks to let them dry, meanwhile dipping my feet in the cool water helping to sooth my ankles that have been getting a bit swollen
I looked around hoping no one was near, I haven’t been able to get a good proper bath in a while so I stripped down my clothes leaving only my bra and panties, submerging myself in the lake floating belly up watching the clouds pass by just like the time Daryl took me here
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“Daryl Dixon did you drag me out here just to see me naked?” I asked smirking as he started taking off his shoes and pants
“Come on it’s nice out yer gonna love it” he said as he was stepping into the lake
I bit my lip feeling that thrill shoot through me, I stripped to just my panties and bra, I walked over taking his hand
“Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?”
“Ya sure?” I knew he was embarrassed about his scars but they weren’t his fault
“You know they don’t bother me, I love you for you, not what happen to you” I said squeezing his hand reassuringly
He lifted it over his head and threw it back over to my clothes pill
“Come on Dixon show me how great this’ll be, better not let me drown” I laughed as I dragged him in
“Still can’t believe yer my girl”
“And I’ll be your girl until you’re sick of me”
“Never”
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“Well well well what do we have here?” I heard behind me as I pulled on my clothes after drying off
“What do you want Ed?” I groaned feeling that touch of fear he instilled in the women of the camp
“Showing yourself down here for the whole camp, you’re asking for it” he said stepping closer
“Leave me alone Ed”
“Ya ain’t got your man around who’s gonna stop me?”
“Don’t you touch me or you’ll be sorry”
He stepped closer squeezing my jaw now face to face
“Like I said ain’t no one gonna stop me” he said as his other hand started to wander down my arm
Before he could get any further he was ripped away Shane throwing him to the ground
“Touch her or anyone else again Ed and I’ll beat ya to death I swear, come on y/n” I gathered up all the clothes I washed and ran to Shane’s side as he lead me safely back to the camp
“Thanks, I didn’t know anyone was around”
“Ain’t your fault, Ed’s one sick man you stay away from him, stay with the group until Daryl or Merle gets back”
I sat down next to Amy folding up the laundry still to shaken up to have conversation that’s when a car alarm was ringing around the quarry, the group was back and it felt a little better knowing Merle would be here while Daryl was gone, Shane shut off the car alarm and others filtered out of a cargo truck
Lori and Carl had their moment with their “back from the dead” father and husband which was incredibly heart warming but then I realized something
“Where’s Merle?”
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Part.7
Please please please give me some ideas for this story going forward🩷 How should I incorporate the ballerina story line into the new world??:)
Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @deansapplepie @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore @superbowlisgay @pollito-chicken @minnie-min @writer-ann-artist @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @lettersfromyourlove
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scoobysnakz · 5 months
Text
Hard Luck
It’s hard finding love when your sole reason to live is your daughter, but when her best friends dad is annoyingly attractive and might have something to do with your rent randomly getting paid, who can blame you for being a little curious?
||* slight angst, I just wrote this on the toilet bc I realised I hadn't updated in ages (sorry), Miguel having intense mood swings, teeny tiny fluff if you squint insanely hard
Chap v
“About before,” you awkwardly shuffle towards him, “I want to say thanks.”
Miguel turns to look you, face tight with concern which doesn't go unnoticed by you. He can feel your eyes scanning him, staring at his expression, trying to read him as his mood suddenly shifts.
“I should pay you back,” you mutter before shoving your hands in your pockets and patting them down as if you don't know they're empty.
He has to stop himself from scoffing, paying him back should be the least of your worries. But Miguel’s nice and those gentle eyes you’re looking at him with soften him- slightly.
“No need,” he sighs, a forced kindness in his voice, “I was just helping out a friend.”
You hate the warm feeling those words spark in your skin because you know it's not him saying you don't need to pay him back causing it. There's still a sense of guilt nagging at your brain though. He's still a stranger, no matter how he puts it, and you owe him money.
Owing people is something that you've grown far too accustomed to and you're determined to not add Miguel to that list.
“Still, at least let me pay for Raya’s ice cream?” you change your tone, secretly praying he thinks it's a question.
Miguel grimaces, charming crinkles forming around his narrowed eyes and arched nose crunching in what you hope isn't disgust. “You have a nice apartment.” he frowns as he changes the subject.
It's your turn to grimace. You purse your lips so tight they hurt and the skin around your mouth smudges with your lip balm. It is a nice apartment, for the price, that you can't keep up with.
He doesn't know why it irks him to see you like this. Not lying, not being irresponsible, no, he hates seeing you so nervous around him. The way you instinctively coil up while having to fight your own body to maintain eye contact.
“I’m lucky its so cheap,” you laugh cautiously, your hands once again finding your pocket and finding a home in the deep cave of denim.
“Cheap?” he raises an eyebrow, his tone suddenly hardening.
You force a smile on your face, lips twitching at the corners and fear shining in your irises. “Yeah.”
He takes up so much room in your kitchen. Not just his body but his whole being. His shoulders might block the light from the lamp reaching you but the overpowering scent of cologne infiltrating the cracks in the air is more than enough to make your stomach clench.
Shakily, you take a step back, knees weakening the more intense his gaze becomes.
“What are you going to do?”
And for a moment you swear you might die.
Miguel knows. He knows that you're flat-broke and days away from getting evicted because you didn't think to cover up that godforsaken letter when you carlessy tossed it in the bin.
The concern that drips from his voice fills you with a kind of self-loathing you thought only your father could bring up. You can't look at him, his gaze is too harsh, too threatening, too unkind for someone you barely know.
“Stay with my mum,” you mutter, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you how your head down.
You can practically hear him rolling his eyes as he nears you with dramatically long strides. “What?” he snaps.
“Me and Raya are going to stay with my mum until I can sort something out!” you hiss.
“How is she going to get to school?” he presses further.
“She only lives about twenty minutes away and my mum can drive us.”
“Can she, now?”
The pure disgust that runs from his expression and out through his voice knocks you sick. Your skin burns with a revolting mixture of shame and anger. Who is he to talk down to you like this? But he's right, you've messed up badly.
Miguel’s worried. He doesn't know you but God, he'd rather die then have someone as precious as you on the streets.
“This isn't any of your concern-”
“You’re just going to let her live like this?” he cuts you off harshly, “moving to your mums whenever you don't pay the rent like a responsible adult? Never knowing what's going on because you can't sort out money?”
Tears sting the corners of your eyes but you fight them back, like always. You refuse to let him see you cry. His words sting but you know, deep down, that you are responsible, that you do what's best for Raya, that your love is enough.
You swear he's bigger now, more threatening, more dangerous. There are fangs protruding past his snarling lips that make your chest tighten in fear.
Anger pulses throughout Miguel’s entire being. His blood is hot and thick with pure rage that only strengthens the more he glares down at you and your pathetic, trembling, pretty lips.
You want to run away, push past Miguel and bolt through your front door but you settle for puffing up your chest and snarling him right back.
“This has nothing to do with you. I appreciate you getting Raya ice cream and picking her up but you are still a stranger who has no valuable insight on this issue.” you try so hard to keep a stable voice, take deep breaths when you feel your throat tighten, look at his forehead not his eyes, but it doesn't and you end up stumbling over your words like an idiot.
The words feel wrong in your mouth, being unkind isn't new to you but targetted to someone you know so little about, you almost feel guilt.
Cool metal hits the poorly clothed part of your back and it's only then that you realise you've been backing away. Your body just naturally falls into submission, even when you have every right to stand up for yourself. That small, faint slither of confidence you had instantly faded away.
Miguel notices this as well, the hidden sadistic part of him going insane over the small gasp that escapes your quaking form, but he still frowns. He wants to reach out and comfort you, let you know how easily he can make this okay but the terror in your eyes distinguishes all hope of that.
He towers over you, his chiselled features now highlighted by the glow of tiles on the floor and his beady, blood-red eyes boring down into you. He stalks towards you, long legs easily pulling him sickeningly close.
You feel miserably weak. Your entire body is numb with guilt as sweat builds in the creases of your palms. But what makes you feel even more pathetic is your desire to be mad yet you can't bring yourself to even weasel out a small argument.
“I’m trying, I really am,” you choke, knuckles burning white with the force of your grip on the counter.
And Miguel’s gaze softens, instantly. All his anger dissolves and all he can see is someone who needs protecting. The way your eyes glisten with tears does something to him. You crumbled so effortlessly that it was easy for him to keep himself in check and now he's got you cowering in the corner in your own kitchen.
He takes a step back and sighs while dragging a lazy hand down his face. “Mierda, I'm… fuck, I'm sorry.”
You try to look at him, to wrap your head around this absurd mood swing but you can't. Just seeing the shame in his eyes burns a hole in your stomach.
“Get out.”
“I got mad and I didn't thi-”
“Out.”
You watch his throat bob as he swallows, hard.
“I’ll go get Gabi,” he sighs.
You shake your head, lips pursed and nose scrunched. You don't want him near Raya, don't think he's safe enough for Gabi to home to, not after a mood swing like that.
You croak a pathetic, “I will,” and walk off. His eyes burn holes into the back of your head but you fight the urge to acknowledge him.
The sound of laughter that leaks from Raya’s bedroom door soothes the burning of your nerves. You might have trembling hands and a racing heart but she's fine- and so is Gabi.
Part of you wants to keep Gabi here, make sure she's safe and let her stay the night but knowing you'd have to face Miguel again at some point is too much.
You knock lightly on the door before pushing it open. “Hey, Gabi,” you smile down at the ground but she's not there. All you can see is a mountain of teddies and blankets in the middle of Raya’s bedroom. Their laughter is present but is mixed with the sound of each other's shushing.
The plushness of the blue carpet on the floor dampens the sound of your footsteps as you creep closer to the pile. You can hear them shuffling around but their laughter has subsided.
Suddenly, you lunge forward and throw yourself onto the pillows with a subtle thud. They both scream as they flail their arms and legs in the air while desperately gasping for air between their violent giggles.
“Your dad said it's time to go home,” you just about manage, as their laughter has affected you too.
Reluctantly, she pulls herself up from the plushy mess, Raya doing the same. They cling to each other, still laughing and whispering, as they disappear through the door.
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aita for how I treat my mom's roommate? Apologies that this is really long!
The people involved here are me (19f), my mom (54f) and my mom's roommate (39f). Gonna call the roommate "Jenny" for simplicity; that is not her real name. Context: So late last year, there was a bad natural disaster in our area. Jenny's house suffered bad damages from it and she needed somewhere to stay until she could find someplace else. Since she and my mom are coworkers, my mom offered our guest bedroom while I was away at college. She was feeling lonely in the house without anyone there and needed help paying rent anyway, so it seemed like it would work out.
I first met Jenny when I came back for Thanksgiving break. She needed help moving some of her furniture into the room she'd be staying in. And by, "she needed help," I mean she wanted my mom and I (who are both disabled) to do it for her. She did nothing while we moved her stuff in and just stood around watching us until we were done. So not a great first impression.
Immediately after that, Jenny started treating me really… weirdly. She treats me like I'm five years old. And that's not an exaggeration by any means. She baby-talks me, coos over me like I'm a cute toddler, and once even gasped when my mom swore in front of me, turned to me and went "Did you hear that? Your Mama said a baaad word!" This feels really demeaning and insulting to me, but no matter how I objected to it, she'd only laugh at or mock me. It got to a point where my mom also had to say something about how uncomfortable Jenny's baby talk made me, and while Jenny 'apologized' (to my mom, not to me), she still does it. Like, all the time.
I could put up with it until I went back to uni, but when I came home for winter, spring, and now summer break, she is still doing it. Alongside some other more mildly irritating things.*
My mom doesn't like her either, and from what I'm understanding she's got a bad reputation at their work for how she talks to others. But she's always paid rent and my mom appreciates that extra help, so. Where I may be assholey: I've resorted to giving Jenny the silent treatement. I never talk to her, hardly even acknowledge when she talks, and quickly excuse myself from the room when she enters it. My mom is hurt by this, as it often means I get up and walk away from conversations between her and I once Jenny inserts herself into them, but never stops me or complains about it. The most she's said is that I'm being needlessly rude sometimes, because "that's just how Jenny talks to everyone." (Which is just… untrue, because she doesn't talk to my mom like that.)
It's been months now. Should I just get over myself and talk to her more, even if she hasn't stopped doing what makes me uncomfortable? She seems to be trying to get my attention all the time, constantly looking to me when she talks like seeking a reaction or approval or something, and hurting my mom's feelings in the crossfire seems unfair… Even though both me and my mom do not like her. Maybe I'm just being overly spiteful or my ego was bruised and I don't want to acknowledge it. I don't know. I know I hate receiving the silent treatment, so I might be a bit hypocritical doling it out…
What do y'all think? *(I can give examples of this on an alt if necessary, I just don't want to bloat this more than it already is with the laundry list I could provide, lmao)
What are these acronyms?
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pirrusstuff · 4 months
Note
How about a college AU?
Oooh i like this oneeee a lot, i don't know too much about how it's college in the US but i know some things.
Buck is biology student who NEEDS a place where to live since he decided to stop living with his parents, he recently broke up with Taylor a journalism student.
Eddie, a veterinary student and single father who has a free room in his house (waiting to be rented) that also needs someone to take care of his kid when he's busy ( he can't afford a babysitter, he barely reaches to pay the bills and Christophers PT)
Buck finds Eddie's vacant room ad and thinks it's perfect, nice house near the campus and he doesn't mind that he's also going to live with a kid, so he shows up and immediately befriends Christopher and Eddie didn't even bother to look for other candidates.
Buck quickly says that he can help Eddie with Chris, the kid gives Buck happiness, he's always smiling no matter what, he learns how to take care of him, how to do his stretches, his diet, he even memorized the child's schedule. It's not like Buck is never busy but he is much less busy than Eddie with his part-time job after school, Buck stills reviving money form his parents every month (at least they're present in that way 🙄)
Eddie helps Buck studing since he has some problems giving his attention only into one thing, he also shares some advices of how to pay attention to class and starts leaving little motivational notes in Buck's stuff (gay) wich he founds really cute.
Buck introduces Eddie to Carla, a really nice lady that imparts some courses at the University who also can help Eddie (yay everyone is happy c:)
Everything is good, Eddie is less bussy, Buck sees him more (and he REALLY like that), the movie nights became something usual for them, the three of them playing at the park, Buck and Eddie helping Chris with school ( 2 dads), Buck starts getting better notes and having a better time studying, life is good.
Buck notice that Eddie has never been at a party, sooo he fixes some stuff to take Eddie out (he wants to show off his boyfriend), they drink a little, they laugh and they dance, even if they're having a good time at a fraternity house (that is FULL of people) they need a little bit of fresh air, so they go to the back yard, Eddie talks about Shannon and the fact that she was his best friend but he never loved her in a romantic way, even if he tried ( he likes boys), Buck talks about his shity parents that never made feel comfortable in his own house, but he had his sister, the only person that made him loved, but he didn't felt like that since she left, until a couple fo months when he started leaving with Eddie and Chris and... BAM KISSS
Au game!
Keep sending au's i love to write them!( Instead of actually write my wips lol)
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icallhimjoey · 2 years
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obligatory ask for like a poem part 4 and can i just say you are absolutely churning these out, writing so fast (and the quality is still immaculate it's kind of unreal) and I LOVE IT keep em coming keep em coming keep em coming
thaaaaaaaaaanks babeeeee wordcount: 2.6K ----------
Like A Poem 
part one - part two - part three – part four - part five
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  “I’m sorry I haven’t told you earlier, but we’re not opening next Saturday so you'll have the day off,” you handed Anne a boxcutter.
“Why?” she immediately put it to use and ripped it through thick cardboard.  
“Some people rented the store out for something.”  
“Like a wedding?” Anne started taking books from the package and handed them to you to lay them out in the store window, dressing it to your best ability.  
“No, it’s for a photoshoot for a magazine. They want to use the store as a backdrop.” You tried your very best to remain ultra-casual about it, but you’d lie if you said it wasn’t a little exciting.
“What magazine?”  
Oh. You realized you had no idea. You’d only contacted the photographer and had just discussed practicalities.  
“I’m not sure actually, but they’re paying enough to still give you a shift’s worth, even though you won’t need to come in.” You wanted to be a good boss and pay Anne what she had expected to be getting at the end of the month.
“I could still come, help out where needed?” Anne shrugged. Her hard exterior sometimes let some softness slip through. Never much, though.  
“I wouldn’t know what you’d be needed for to be honest, it’s just going to be Joe and-”  
“Joe?” Anne interrupted. 
Fuck. You slipped up. You had hoped you wouldn’t have had to get into any detail. You really enjoyed how Joe had anonymity in your store and having to fill Anne in could absolutely ruin that. You mentally kicked yourself for it.  
“Yea, and maybe four or five others, I think,”  
Please don’t press it, please don’t ask any further questions. 
“Is he a photographer?”  
“No,” you sighed. “He’s the one they’ll be taking the photos of.”  
“For what? Joe’s ugly.” Anne tossed the empty box aside to grab a new one, ripping it open swiftly. 
You let out a hearty laugh at Anne’s face. It wasn’t quite displaying disgust, but definitely some hefty confusion. She was so very openly not impressed with him, you loved it. You realized then that, actually, it didn’t matter if she knew. You trusted it wouldn’t really change her opinion of him. 
“Joe’s an actor. And he’s considered… known? Sort of?” 
She didn’t really respond, but you could see gears turn in her mind.  
“Do you watch a lot of TV? Films?” you tried.
“No.” Anne stopped what she was doing to look at you. “I read books.” she deadpanned. Like it was obvious.  
“Yea, that… makes sense.” You had looked at her through narrow eyes and then agreed it was.  
Anne ended up accepting she wouldn’t have to come in next Saturday, and you didn’t speak of the matter again. You had a good look around the store, imagining how it would look through a camera lens. You thought maybe you could get Anne to neaten some shelves, make the place look more presentable, but then had decided against it. Anne could maybe do some extra dusting, but that’d be all.  
Saturday came around fast.  
They had shown up early in the morning, and you had welcomed them in, giving them free range, all access, to set up for the shoot. Joe wasn’t with them and you assumed he’d show up once they were ready for him.
You hadn’t known where to stand, afraid you’d be in the way as four men roamed around, placing lights, unfolding tripods, moving the ladders - someone brought in a full rack of clothing and more things from their car outside… it was a lot of kerfuffle and you had silently retreated to the breakroom to escape it.
They had put music on, and you had really liked their selection. Bear’s Den, Ben Howard, Mumford & Sons and the like filled the store. It was nice.
You had to move your laptop to the very edge of the table when someone, you assumed the stylist, used it for products – hair and make-up. Then shortly after the clothing rack found its way in too.  
The door had been left wide open as they walked in and out and it let in a nice breeze you could feel all the way in the back where you were sat. You could hear small beeps and the shutter of a camera from test shots they were doing, and you kind of enjoyed how these strangers had gotten to work with comfortability in your store, around your things.
“What do you think?” You heard Joe’s voice outside. He had arrived. “Isn’t it so good?”  
You felt your heart swell when you heard the enthusiasm in his voice as he spoke about your store to one of the other guys out by their car, just outside of the entrance.  
“It’s actually better than the other spot we had in mind, well done,”  
The one that fell through, you thought. Had it really fallen through, though? Or had it been an option, something they had discussed as a possible location until Joe had suggested your bookstore? You thought you were doing Joe a favour when you agreed to this, but now you had your suspicions. Maybe one day, if you had the balls, you’d confront him about it if you could remember. 
You weren’t sure why, but seeing Joe walk in and greet his friends in there made you feel a little out of place. Shy, almost. He had gone out of his way to find you, just to give you a smile and say hi and your stomach had done flips.
About an hour later, the shoot really got going. Joe was practically dressed like a librarian, a little too on the nose for you, but he looked good. Hot. You had stationed yourself back in the breakroom after having stepped out shortly to give Joe space to get ready, and you were trying your best to get some administrative work done. You really could use the day to catch up on the more boring things.
But then after a little bit Joe walked in and invaded your space, along with who you gathered was the stylist for this occasion. Before you even had the option to politely excuse yourself so they could have the room for Joe’s wardrobe change, Joe was getting undressed, entirely unphased by your presence.  
You made sure to keep your eyes firmly glued to your laptop screen, thinking that maybe if you stayed really still, they wouldn’t see you. Like meerkats would do, except you didn’t exactly blend in with your surroundings.  
Right. Focus. Orders. You needed to look at what books to order.
But you were a victim to your own ardour and flicked your eyes up to look at Joe. You could see the muscles of his arms move under his skin as he snaked them into a shirt. Then cuffs were rolled up, and you thought to yourself how men rolling up the sleeves of their shirt really was the most non-sexual turn on you could think of. That, and men reversing cars and putting their arm ‘round the back of the passenger seat as they'd check over their shoulder. Oof.  
Then you caught sight of the body-hair on Joe’s torso as the stylist started buttoning the shirt up and you involuntarily cleared your throat in reaction, calling unwanted attention to yourself.  
“Coffee?” you asked when two pairs of eyes found you blushing in your seat, and you quickly got up and turned to the kitchenette to hide your burning cheeks.
The day was long, and it dragged on a bit, you thought. You had been standing outside to look in through the window as they were taking photos of Joe up on one of the ladders. It was perfect; you were out of their way, got some fresh air and could look at Joe from the point of view of the photographer. They really had seen every last inch of the store; you were sure this would be the last set of pictures they would take. You were leaning against the window frame, arms crossed in front of you, the reflection of the sun on the window slightly obscuring your view, but somehow adding to the surreality of the moment. 
The photographer pointed up at Joe as he told him to grab a book to pretend to read. You saw Joe carefully reach for one, and your breath hitched in your throat when you saw him take hold of the one book in your store you’d never sell. 
And Joe’s eyes found yours through the window, twinkling eyes, all smiles, and you could feel yourself slipping, falling deeper in love with him, unable to deny it now. 
“Careful,” you whispered a warning to your heart. “Careful now.”
The next day, Joe had come in and sat in his spot. He’d brought in his notebook again, and you gathered there was more research that needed doing for a job. It felt a little weird after having seen him as the focal point of a professional photoshoot the day before. Joe had been actor Joseph Quinn in here. And now he was the bookstore’s regular silent reader again, like yesterday never happened. 
Anne had bluntly told Joe she had googled him.
“You have?” Joe spoke to her like she was a six-year-old, eyebrows raised high, his lips pulled into a small smirk, but not looking up from his writing. It granted a laugh from you. Anne had in response just looked at him, blank faced, and then she had looked at you the same. No further words were spoken on the subject. 
It had taken a little while for Joe to see any of the photographs taken, but when he had received a couple of them in an e-mail, he had slapped his laptop shut to take it with him to show you.  
He was almost skipping down the street towards the store, excited for your reaction. He didn’t need you to see him in the photos, he needed you to see how whimsical and kaleidoscopic your store looked in them. 
But when Joe passed the window of the bookstore before getting to the door, he noticed that it looked uncharacteriscally dark inside. And when he wanted to open the door, ready to lean into it with his full body weight, he was abruptly stopped. 
Locked. 
The sign on the door read closed. Joe peered inside, but it was empty. He then checked his watch; ten past four. Closed on a Friday afternoon.
Weird.
Maybe you had just taken a day off. Joe had never thought about your work schedule, and realized that since meeting you, you’d been open every day of the week. It had never crossed his mind that you didn’t get days off, which obviously now, it made sense that some days the store would be closed. You deserved breaks like any other person. Joe just didn’t like that it meant he wouldn’t get to come into his favourite place. And without warning too.
A little disappointed, Joe decided then that he’d come back the next day. He could show you the images then.
The next day, Joe had gone back, and it had just gone past ten. Still closed. But on a Saturday? Something wasn’t adding up, Joe thought. Could he text you and ask? He did have your number now, but he hadn’t used it yet. Joe decided against it. For now. Maybe later.
He had gone for breakfast somewhere, got his coffee fix someplace else and he hadn’t liked it. After that, he decided he’d walk by the store once more, just to check, in case you’d just been a little late opening that day. 
But he could see it from a fair ways away: still dark inside. No A frame out front.
When he got closer, he saw that something had changed though. An armchair seemed to be missing, and when he finally stood right in front of the window, Joe saw you.
You had turned one of the armchairs away from the window, so it was now facing into the store, and Joe could see the top of your head peeking out just above the backrest. He tried taking a few steps to the left, and then to the right, but there was no angle for him to see your face or to catch your attention. All he could see was that you had curled up, settled deep into the plush cushions, a throw blanket over your lap and you were reading a book you were halfway through already.
For a second he toyed with the idea of knocking on the window, but then he saw you pull your sleeve over your hand, and bring it up to your face to press it firmly into your cheeks, blotting both sides.
You were crying.
Joe then realized you had probably turned the chair away from the window for a reason, and he didn’t want to intrude. He could show you the photographs another time, when the store would be open, and when you wouldn’t be wiping tears from your face. Joe hoped that the reason for your tears had just been a sad book. That nothing else had happened that was bad enough for you to not open up shop. He lingered by the window entirely too long, he knew. But he didn’t want to leave. You were crying. And even though you had kept a somewhat professional distance from Joe, all he really wanted to do in that moment was comfort you and make it better. 
And then you had gotten up from your seat, and Joe watched you, messy hair and comfortable clothes, disappear into the back. 
When you walked back out, carefully clutching a mug of steaming tea with both hands, you saw him. Joe.
He was just standing there, his face inches away from the glass and it had stopped you in your tracks. For a second, you just looked at each other, your cheeks tear stained and chest still spasming from crying, actively hyperventilating still but trying your best to struggle through staying calm and you saw deep sympathy etched into Joe’s face. 
Joe knew from the moment he laid eyes on your face that it couldn’t have been just a book. Something was wrong, and every fiber in Joe’s being screamed at him to fix it.
You didn’t know what to do, but when Joe nodded his head towards the door, you made your way over to unlock it. Joe was allowed in, you decided.
“You’re closed.” Joe said when you opened the door for him. You nodded; glad it wasn’t a question that needed an answer from you. Joe felt his chest tighten when he heard how erratic your breathing was. 
“I was looking for a mensroom.” Joe reminded you of the first time he’d walked into the store months ago. You couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth a little, your eyes still wet. 
“We have-” your stuttered breath interrupted your speech. “We have one in the back.” You replied the way you'd done back then and stepped aside to let Joe in, locking the door back up behind him.
“Can I…?” Joe didn’t finish his question but took hold of the armchair that was still in the window and pushed it to place it next to the other one. And then he had stepped toward a display, had let his eyes scan over a few books before picking one up and sitting down.
There he was. In your granddad’s armchair. Quiet. Reading. Just there, exactly where you needed him.  
part five ------
The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana461010 @emmamooney @xomunson - add yourself
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jasonscaramel · 8 months
Text
i guess only the stars would know the truth - chapter three - jason todd x reader
series summary: you transfer into gotham university's journalism program. simultaneously, people are going missing in gotham at record rates. it's only a matter of time before your curiosity gets the best of you.
words: 3.4k
cross-posted on ao3 | series masterlist
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In comparison to how early you usually are, you’re running really late.
The first few weeks had lulled you into a false sense of security, and now you’re floundering a little. It’s like your workload has picked up tenfold, so the adjustment period has gotten a little bit longer. You’re not behind, just struggling to keep equilibrium. It’ll pass, you know it will, but you still feel like the epitome of flustered as you speed walk the remaining distance to campus.
You thankfully are only a few minutes late to class, giving Tim a sympathetic smile as you settle in.
“You didn’t really miss anything. She’s about to explain the group project,” Tim whispers in your direction, and you lean in to whisper back.
“Right on time. Thanks.” He nods in reply, and your attention goes back to the professor.
So you sit, willing your beating heart to settle as you listen to the professor outline the parameters of the project. A pitch presentation, which is easy enough. Just a quick turnaround time. That does mean, however, that you’ll a) need a partner and b) need to work on this outside of class.
You’re thankful that you’ve befriended Tim because now you have a built-in partner. You wonder what he’ll suggest for working outside of class. There are plenty of spaces on campus to go, but you wouldn’t exactly have peace and quiet. You’re not exactly ready to offer up your apartment, either, so you’re not in the position to be picky.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tim slip you a piece of paper. You grab it and slide it closer.
Wanna work together?
You can’t help your grin as you write back a yes!
Tim slides the paper back over so he can scribble for a moment.
My place later ok?
You nod, and he takes that as confirmation enough and wads up the small scrap of paper. You both return to listening to the lecture.
//
“God can she talk,” you mumble under your breath as you exit the class, Tim trailing behind you. He laughs in agreement, dodging a few people walking in the opposite direction to lead the way.
“No kidding. Alright, follow me. Cars waiting.” He began walking through the sea of people before you could ask any more questions, so you did your best to keep up with him.
When you get to the carpool line, you wonder what kind of car you’re about to get into. What you’re not expecting is Tim to make a beeline for the nicest car in the entire parking lot that had a hired driver sitting in the front seat.
As you began the drive, you realized there was no walking to Tim’s house. It made for a pretty long drive from campus, tucked away from the city.
You also realized that “house” is a complete understatement.
As the car pulls up, you begin to understand why you’re in a goddamn town car. The place is giant; Tim is loaded. Like, more money than god loaded. You’re trying not to stare or let your jaw hang on the floor, but it feels a bit involuntary at this point. You don’t think you’ve ever seen so much wealth in one space. This place rivals the castles you’ve seen on television.
Thankfully, Tim seems to be understanding, giving you a small, tight-lipped smile as the car is put in park. You pause, waiting for Tim to make the first move. He throws open his door and you follow suit, hoping to whatever god out there that you don’t make a total fool of yourself once you go inside.
The thought doesn’t leave you as he opens the door to the… mansion. If you thought the outside was extravagant, the inside is ostentatious. As you follow Tim through the hallways, you note that any one piece of decor in this home would pay off your rent for a good two years.
This is nuts.
“We’re, uh, gonna work in the library. That cool with you?” Tim asks, stopping by a set of shut double doors. You nod, not trusting your voice, and haul open one of the doors. He leads you to a large table surrounded by even larger bookshelves, putting his stuff down before returning to the doors. He props one of them open as you settle in, pulling out your old Macbook to get started.
“You know…” Tim sounds hesitant, and you look up at him, urging him to finish. “It’s okay if this is all… strange to you. I didn’t exactly prep you beforehand.”
A large breath of air escapes you in a dramatic sigh. “Oh, thank fuck. Seriously, dude, I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything, I’ve just never been somewhere this… fancy.”
Tim chuckles, and you can’t help but join him. It doesn’t feel like he’s making fun of you; it feels like he understands where you’re coming from. “No, don’t worry. You’re not being an asshole. I kinda forget you’re new around here, that’s why I didn’t explain anything.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he’s about to say next.
“I, uh, was the same way when I got here. I’d never seen anything so… extravagant. It-”
“It’s kinda irritating, isn’t it?” Tim is cut off by another man’s voice, and your head whips up to find the source. An extremely tall, broad-shouldered, gorgeous man stands leaning on the doorway, a cheeky smile on his face. A scar frames his pretty face and striking green eyes, and as your eyes trail further you see long sleeves that cover most of his tanned skin. Jesus, what is in the water at this place? You can’t seem to find your voice, so Tim speaks for you.
“Jason, we’re doing a group project, can you—”
Jason, a cocky smile still plastered on his face, holds up his hands in surrender as he interrupts Tim. “Not here to bug you. Swear. Just came to grab something.” He disappears behind a bookshelf, reappearing only moments later with two books held in one of his pretty, giant hands.
Not like you’re staring, or anything.
“Good to meet you, by the way.” He walks over to the table, extending his free hand out to you. “I’m Jason.” You reach for his hand, shaking it and giving him your name in return. The smile on his face only brightens, your hands refusing to let go.
Tim clears his throat, and you’re both reminded that he is, in fact, in the room with you. You drop Jason’s hand as your face grows hot. If possible, his smile grows.
“See ya later.” Jason waves on his way out, and you secretly hope you run into him again before you leave.
It was hard to focus after that. Tim didn’t say anything further about Jason, so you didn’t ask. Even though you had lots of questions. Eventually, you were able to get into a groove, knocking out a good bit of your project before it got too late. You had another week to get it done, but it was nice to get a chunk of it out of the way ahead of time. Now that it was late, however, you were starving. And your stomach immediately ratted you out by growling obscenely loudly with no warning.
Tim laughs, closing his laptop and pushing it further away from him on the table. “Yeah, it’s probably a good time to call it quits. Let’s go see what Alfred’s cooking.”
You don’t question who Alfred is despite desperately wanting to; you just put your laptop in your bag, throw it over your shoulder, and follow Tim.
He again leads you through the winding hallways of his home, and the further you get, the more you can smell something absolutely delicious cooking in the kitchen.
“Alfred, I—oh.” Tim stops in the doorway of the kitchen, and you have to slam on the breaks behind him so you don’t run into his back. There at the stove stands Jason, stirring something in a ridiculously large steaming pot, something out of a restaurant kitchen. You wonder how many people they need to feed.
“He ran to the store, we’re out of paprika. I don’t know if your friend likes chicken and dumplings, but there’s plenty.”
They both look over at you, and you briefly panic at the attention. When you don’t speak, Tim does for you. “Or we could go to the diner. Your choice.”
“We can stay here. I haven’t had chicken and dumplings in years.”
A grin fights its way onto Jason’s face, and he motions for you to come closer. You slowly shuffle closer to the stove, Tim not far behind you.
“Yeah, this is your thing, right? Tim said you transferred in from down south. Mind stirring for me?”
You grab the wooden spoon from Jason, subtly trying to watch him as he walks over to the pantry. “I mean, cooking isn’t my thing. But southern food definitely is. The lack of gumbo up here is frightening.”
They both snort out a laugh, and you’re suddenly reminded that Tim is still here, sitting on the counter next to the industrial-sized pot you’re stirring. It smells divine—like your grandmother's cooking. Whoever this Alfred is—he’s already a 10 in your book.
“Maybe you could teach me how to make it,” Jason proposes, returning from the pantry with a can of Tony’s and a huge pepper grinder. He moves into your space, hip-bumping yours to urge you just a bit out of the way. You keep stirring as he seasons the food, attempting to gauge Tim’s reaction without him noticing.
Too bad when you look up, Tim’s already looking at you, a small smile on his face. You return it stiffly before refocusing on the task in front of you. You hope whatever’s going through his head is positive.
“Yeah,” you finally find your voice. “That’d be cool. You’re already halfway there, using Tony’s. My grandmother would be proud.” You snort at the idea, and Jason gives you a soft laugh.
“I had a good teacher. Alfred is the best cook I’ve ever met.”
“He’s right,” Tim finally buts in. “Jason might be a good cook, but Alfred taught him everything he knows.”
“All I heard was I’m a good cook. Thanks, Timmo.” The grin on Jason’s face is contagious, you can’t help but return it. Tim even smiles despite himself.
“That compliment doesn’t leave this room. In fact—”
“Alright, boys, if you're going to argue, please do so outside of my kitchen.” An older man cuts Tim off from the doorway, a large paper bag in his hands. You feel Jason move around you as he approaches the man, taking the bag from him and over to the pantry.
“We’re not arguing. Tim finally admitted I’m a good cook.”
“Only thanks to you, Alfred.” Tim admits as he watches Alfred approach you and the stove. “That’s my friend from marketing class,” Tim gives Alfred your name. “We were working on a group project.”
“Pleasure to meet you. I see they put you to work immediately after.” You share a chuckle, and he motions for you to hand over the wooden spoon. You do it easily, and he gives you another warm smile and nods. “You’re free to go.” He jokes.
“It’s all good—I didn't mind.” You say.
Alfred, seemingly holding back a smile, says, “Then why don’t I put you all to work and get you to set the table?”
You follow Tim and Jason into the dining room, but they refuse to let you do any of the work setting the table. The dining room, just like the other rooms you’d seen here, was large and incredibly ornate. A crystal chandelier, a large wooden table that looked big enough for a small army, and more chairs around it than three times your average dining table.
Another thing about a house this big is that sound tends to carry. That’s why you jumped when you heard the front door slam shut. You hear Alfred greet someone, and then footsteps heading for the dining room. When you look over, you see two women standing in the doorway, smiles on their faces.
“Alfred says foods ready. Oh! Tim’s friend!” The blonde makes her way over to you, throwing her arms around you in a hug. “Hi. I’m Steph.” She pulls away to motion at the woman she came in with. “That’s my girlfriend, Meg.”
“Hi. Nice to finally meet you.” Meg says, and the confusion on your face must be evident because she laughed before continuing. “Steph and I have weekly double dates with Tim and Bernard. They tell us everything.”
“Its true. Baby, wait.” Steph says and races to pull out a chair at the table for her girlfriend before sitting beside her. “Nothing but good things about you though. Journalism, right?”
You nod before scanning the table, trying to figure out where to sit. Jason, standing behind one of the chairs, taps on the table at the spot between him and Tim and across from Steph. With the weight of that off your shoulders, you move around the table and answer. “Yeah, it’s a great program. It also seems like I’m in the right city, considering all the stuff that goes down here.”
You sit down and watch as Tim and Jason sit next to you in unison. The latter snorts. “No fucking kidding. It seems like every time I turn on the news shit gets worse.” Jason says, adjusting in his chair.
“You’re not lying.” Meg pipes up. “There’s been I think fourteen disappearances in the span of… what? Two months? I’m not an expert, but that seems like a lot.”
The group murmurs in agreement but no one really knows what to say at that, because she’s right. It’s definitely weird. The lull in conversation is quickly broken by Alfred bustling into the dining room, Dick, and a younger boy in tow.
You’re introduced to the younger boy, Damian, as dinner is served, and find yourself observing the meaningful chaos around you. He doesn’t speak much, but you can’t blame him. There are a few empty seats, and you have a feeling that someone usually fills them, but no one seems upset. Just content at the company they do have.
Jason keeps asking you questions. Whispers, barely discernable even to your own ears. Asking whether or not you like the food, if all of this is too much for you. Despite his rough, cocky exterior, he seems like a genuinely kind soul. You hope you get to see more of him in the future; something about him makes you want more.
//
After saying your goodbyes to the majority of the group after a long, delicious dinner, it’s just you, Tim, and Jason heading toward the front door.
“I’m gonna go pull the car up.” Tim says, ducking out the front door and shutting it behind him. You watch him go before Jason speaks, commanding your attention.
“Could I, uh—could I get your number?” Despite how big and scary Jason might seem at first glance, you wonder how anyone could ever think that after getting to know him. You’ve only known him for the one evening, but you already feel like you can trust him. There’s something about him that seems magnetizing; his energy is safe, comforting, and inviting. How could you refuse him?
“Yeah. Of course.” You can’t help your grin when he hands you his phone and lets you type in your number. “Text me anytime. I’m never off my phone longer than… well, maybe a lecture.”
It’s his turn to grin as he pockets his phone. “Where there’s a will there’s a way, sweetheart.”
Your stomach flutters, and you wonder when the last time you had butterflies was. High school? Ever? Not like this.
“Oh, there’s a will, so…” You trail off when you hear Tim honk outside. “Later, Jason.”
“See ya, sweetheart.”
You rush to the car, face warm with excitement, desperate to outrun the sudden rain even if it isn’t possible. Thankfully Tim doesn’t seem to mind when you sit in the passenger seat soaked from the rain.
“Where to?” He asks, and at first, you freeze. You’ve seen where he lives, it’s only… well maybe fair isn’t necessarily the right word. But it feels like you can safely give up your bit of information now that you know his.
Only, the issue is, your place is decidedly not anything like his. And it’s not a bad thing, as your place is pretty damn good for the price, but it’s definitely something you’re beginning to worry about. It’s Tim, though. He’s been very kind to you since the beginning, and there’s no evidence that he’d use this as an excuse to be an asshole. So, you give him your address.
“Oh, cool. Roy lives there. I’ll have to introduce you sometime.” Your nerves settle; you’re so grateful to have met this guy. He puts the car in drive, windshield wipers on full blast as he drives you through the city. It’s a peaceful drive, most of the traffic having already died down by now. You sit in a comfortable silence, occasionally answering whatever questions or comments Tim throws your way.
He drops you off at the front door with a goodbye and a wave, promising to text you when he gets home. As you make your way up and into the stairs to your apartment, you feel your phone buzz. You grab your laptop and plop onto your couch before reading the message from an unknown number.
Unknown: Hey, it’s Jason. You make it home okay?
You: Sure did! It was really nice meeting u btw
As you wait for him to respond, you save his number on your phone. Loading up your laptop, your mind goes back to what Meg said earlier at dinner. Fourteen people in two months. That’s definitely not normal, even by Gotham’s standards. What the hell is going on here?
When it comes to research, you’ve always found the starting point to be the most difficult. Where do you begin? What do you start with? You figure you need to start somewhere. As you search Gotham missing persons in Google, your phone vibrates.
Jason: I really enjoyed meeting you too. You should come back to the manor soon.
You: Well Tim and I still have that project soooo…
Jason: Perfect.
You: :) Goodnight. Hope u sleep well
Jason: Night, sweetheart. Hope you do too.
And suddenly, the feeling of butterflies returns. You wonder if this is just his personality or if he’s just baseline flirty. You really hope not, you’re not sure your heart can take it. Something about him just makes you want to know more. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that he seems to be a caring, nice, intelligent guy, or if it’s the fact that he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Neither hurts, you’re sure about that.
Before you hit the hay, you’re determined to save a few good articles to begin your research tomorrow. Your professor canceled this Tuesday’s class a week prior, so despite your workload, you’ll have enough time to work on a personal project.
You save a few links into a Word document before adding Gotham Gazette into the search bar. Maybe, if Dick ever came through with that contact, you could ask her to point you in a better direction.
After saving a few seemingly interesting sources, you shut your computer with a yawn. Before moving here, you could stay up until two a.m. no questions asked. Now, you’re lucky to get past 11. You blame all the walking; your hometown was definitely not walkable.
You pour yourself a glass of water from the filtered pitcher in the fridge before moving to your bedroom to put it on your side table. Heading into your bathroom, you stare at yourself in the mirror before willing yourself to do an abridged version of your nighttime routine. After piling into bed, you heave a deep sigh.
You feel good. Now on the outside, thanks to skincare, but mostly on the inside. Something about being around everyone tonight made you feel welcomed in a way you haven’t since you arrived in Gotham. It had been a rocky (almost) month, but you finally feel like you’ve carved a place out here.
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softquietsteadylove · 3 months
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Hello! 🫣
I had this idea: thenamesh academic rivals?
Gil is a top student, mostly getting a mark of 100. but whenever Thena asks her rival what he got he always says a lower point (for example he says 97 and she got a 98) , hiding his exam behind his back 🫣
Thena glared at the chair next to hers as it was taken.
"Uh," Gilgamesh attempted - yet again - to strike up a casual conversation, "hey."
Thena tapped her papers on her desk, waiting for the professor to come in, as well as tell them how they would be conducting the labs with their students for the day. "I trust you've already looked up what your score for the mid-term was."
"What was yours?"
Thena clenched her teeth in her jaw. It didn't matter what she got, he would get just the same, if not better. She had worked her whole life to become a historical scholar, as was expected of her. And this guy always managed to stand shoulder to shoulder with her, seemingly without so much as blinking. "I achieved 98. I believe the two point demerit was due to my oversight in the essay section."
Gilgamesh merely nodded, offering a nervous kind of smile. "Ah, well, the essay parts are always the toughest."
She slid her eyes over to him. She didn't truly wish to know, but she also couldn't resist knowing. "And you?"
"Ninety..." he trailed off, as he always did when they were discussing their academic performance. She glared at him to finish, "seven?"
Thena smiled, although she did her best not to appear smug and unbecoming. "An admirable mark."
"Thanks," he laughed off, like it was nothing. Professor Stoss was a famously tough professor despite his young age, and getting any good mark from him was already a feat.
Thena did somewhat believe that the affability Gilgamesh possessed made people go easier on him. And even then, she had to concede that he was intelligent and competent in their field of study. It infuriated her.
She had the weight of the world on her in the expectation to perform. She was even a teaching assistant entirely to advance her studies and career. Otherwise, the interaction with other students was far too much for her own preference.
But Gilgamesh said he was good in historical studies merely because his mother had possessed a fondness for them. Thena devoted hours to studying and research and Gilgamesh worked part time at a diner close to the university. And yet he used to consistently beat her in every assignment and quiz and test.
Only in recent months did he seem to be coming just a single point under her, and even that was not enough. Thena had already heard from her own family how outstanding this no-name student was and how those in their field of work were asking about him.
"Did you...do anything this weekend?"
Thena looked over, somewhat astonished that he was still trying to make conversation with her.
He shrugged, tapping his fingers anxiously on the cover of his textbook. "I heard there was a fancy party for the TAs, I mean. I assumed you went."
Thena frowned. There was indeed an event for the faculty and their chosen assistants--those who showed promise enough to earn extra credits in teaching. She hadn't attended because she felt no need (nor did Phastos, in her defense). "I assumed you had gone."
"Oh, no," Gilgamesh smiled down at the desk. "I take the late shifts on weekends. They're long, but we don't get many people, so I can get studying or work done, y'know?"
Thena swallowed her words. She had all this envy for his natural skill, but his work was just as legitimate as hers. And he worked to pay his rent, living off campus, while she lived in a dorm for female academic leaders. Gilgamesh stole his time studying as opposed to building his entire life around it.
"You deserve to enjoy yourself a little."
She looked at him again, still frowning. "I beg your pardon?"
"S-Sorry." He went back to staring down at the tattered edges of his textbook. But she kept looking at him, waiting for him to elaborate. The silence worked, dragging his words out of him. "I just mean...you work really hard, right? You're always top of the class. You should be allowed to have some fun, sometimes."
She did work hard. She devoted every waking moment of her life to her studies, and the one person who continuously thwarted her attempts at perfection was the one to point it out?
It would be easier to be angry with him if he were dislikeable in any way. As it stood now, all she had to go on was that he always beat her in academic achievement, and so effortlessly at that. But even with that, she had to concede that he worked just as hard, if not harder than her for it! And it was infuriating!
"Sorry," he repeated, looking away from her glowering at him.
She sighed. "No, I'm sorry. It was an innocent question."
He looked at her, completely astonished. She would like to snap at him for thinking she couldn't even just apologise for being overly adversarial with him. But that would defeat the point. "Well, I know you don't really like small talk."
It was that she wasn't good at it. She angled herself in her chair, destroying her perfect posture to face him somewhat more properly. "Should you not have also...enjoyed yourself? When do you have time to socialise if you are either studying or working?"
"Well, I have friends I can see in my other classes," he shrugged.
Oh. Yes, of course. Thena felt her hackles raise again at the idea that she was so unfamiliar with the idea of having friends in any of their classes. But she was trying to be nicer to him.
"But," he offered another sheepish smile, bending closer to whisper like children trading a secret in grade school. "This class is my favourite."
Thena just stared at him. She supposed that made sense. He always said he had the same like of history and classics that his mother had. But the idea that she was included in the categorisation of his favourite anything; a warm feeling spread in her chest.
"The lovebirds are here already."
Students began filtering into the small lecture hall, facing them seated at the front of the room. The one who made the comment plunked down close to the door. Another one looked in their direction, "don't you two ever sleep in?"
They got jokes and insinuations that they were together all the time. Apparently, everyone could see some kind of brewing, invisible tension between the two of them. Thena always found it ridiculous.
"We don't-!"
The student startled, as did the rest of the room slowly taking their seats. The declaration was sharp, and loud--far louder than was needed for a room this size.
Thena felt warmth rush to her cheeks, first for the outburst, then the realisation that it seemed overeager to deny something that wasn't even said. She cleared her throat, turning towards the board (since she had shot to her feet in her denial). "Sit down and start copying."
The student body present groaned but obeyed. Gil was the far preferred teaching assistant because he didn't scare anyone, and even if they under-performed, he had kind encouragements as opposed to scathing condemnations.
"Guys, come on, you heard her."
Thena barely glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing new about their students complaining about her teaching methods. But Gil usually didn't take quite so stern a tone with them. Even in her defense.
He peeked at her with a smile, perhaps hoping to show that he was indeed her ally and not her enemy.
Thena whipped her head forward again. So long as they were pitted against each other in any setting, he was no friend of hers. No matter how winsome his smile was.
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kimkaelyn · 2 years
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heyoo! how are you doing? 😃 may i request a bts reaction to yn having four pets baby turtles 🐢 (with their name being the names of the turtles from "ninja turtles"), please? ~i hope it's not confusing, sorry for my bad english 🙃
→pairing: bts ot7 x gender neutral reader
→genre: crack
→word count: 556
→author's note: Hi! I hope this is what you were looking for!
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"So, uh, welcome to my home," You tell the boys as you unlock the door. You allowed them to go in first. "I'm sorry it's not much."
Rent in Seoul is expensive, and finding a decent-sized apartment for a reasonable price is nearly impossible. Finding a job that pays decently and offers good hours is difficult. No matter how much you work, you still find yourself struggling to get by. The boys have told you countless times that you can move in with them- that you wouldn't be bothering them and they have plenty of room in their dorm. However, you don't want to burden them, even though they constantly tell you that you are never a burden. You guess you are scared you will end up depending on them. You have been alone since you moved to Seoul years ago, so you aren't used to people taking care of you. Admittedly, you are afraid they would get tired of you and leave.
You shake the negative thoughts away as they hustle into the tiny room. There is barely any room for all eight of you to stand so Jeongguk and Taehyung sit on your tiny bed in order for you all to have some room. You don't even have a closet or room for a dresser so all of your clothes are in drawers and storage bins underneath your bed.
"It's nice," Yoongi says as you shuffle by him to sit on the bed next to Jeongguk and Taehyung.
"Thanks," You say. "I try my best to make it work, but it can be difficult."
"I'm sorry," Namjoon says. He lowers his head slightly.
You smile at them. You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder. You appreciate his sentiment, but you have accepted your situation. "It's okay, Joonie. I know I do not have the best living and financial situation, but it doesn't bring me down. I'm happy and am living my life to the fullest. I don't need a big house or a high-paying job to live a happy life. I have you guys, the best boyfriends ever, and the ninjas!"
All seven of them smile at you. Taehyung reaches over and messes up your hair. "You're adorable," He says as he places a kiss on your forehead.
"Wait, what do you mean by ninjas?" Jimin asks.
"Oh," You laugh nervously. "Besides you guys, there are four other boys in my life." You rise from the bed and make your way over to the corner. There looks to be boxes that are covered by a big blue blanket.
"What? You're cheating on us!" Jin cries out and the others gasp.
"No, no!" You quickly reassure them. Your heart breaks a bit hearing that they thought you would cheat on them. "I would never cheat! No, I was talking about my turtles."
"Your turtles?" Yoongi asks. He sounds suspicious.
"Since when did you have turtles?" Jeongguk asks.
"Since last week." You say. "Boys, I would like for you to meet Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo." You rip the blanket off to reveal a cage that contained four small turtles.
Everyone was silent as the boys crept over to peer at the four turtles.
"Awe!" Taehyung cried out while placing his hands over his cheeks.
"They are adorable!" Hoseok said. "Hi, little buddies!"
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copyright @ kimkaelyn 2022. All rights reserved
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donovan-writes · 2 years
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All Good Things Must Come To An End
Headcannons for Ernesto while he was alive because my boyfriend’s obsessed @obi-wans-man-titties
~male reader~
Warnings: internalized homophobia, gets angsty, and probably bad Spanish I only took 5 years of Spanish
You met Ernesto at one of his performances. You got front row and once the lights were out of his eyes he was captivated by you
He tried acting so sly but got too tongue tied for it
All his pickup lines sucked. “Did it hurt when you crawled out from heaven? I mean- Dios Mio.”
He couldn’t get his words right for shit he was so dorky
He eventually gave up when you laughed and handed him your home phone line
Once he got home he was giddier than ever he called you IMMEDIATELY
Doesn’t care how much the phone bill is gonna cost to call you he will pay as much as he needs and will even send YOU money to keep talking
He doesn’t think he has a crush. He just barely has genuine friends. They’re all there for his popularity which isn’t really ideal
You get VIP to all his shows once you’ve established a real friendship
His partner on stage always said “you’ve got a thing for your little buddy don’t you?” And he immediately turns it down
“I can’t be with a guy that’s not good for people like us” Ernesto always tried to turn it down like that
He tries getting with several women who use him for money and fame just to try and assure himself he’s not gay
Meanwhile you were writing poems and letters and love songs for this guy. All your friends and family knew you were in love with Ernesto ever since you got close to him
As you and Ernesto De La Cruz toured the world together you both got so much closer
Eventually you told Ernesto how you feel. You gave him a bouquet of several roses* (white, peach, orange, red, and burgundy. For those who don’t understand rose colours I’ll add a guide at the bottom)
However he turns you down. Claiming he’s not supposed to swing that way and that it would be bad for his reputation. It’s not what he wanted to say but it’s what he thought he had to say
You’re destroyed but you take out the burgundy rose and hand it to him instead “then at least accept this” you’d say
Ernesto would take the rose and put it on his hat giving a smile
He does his performance like normal but you aren’t there. You decided to stay in the hotel room that was rented for you both. You could still hear the music a few streets away, this caused you to cry. You have just had your heart broken
Ernesto walks in on you crying still. He had just come back from a party, one he never told you he was attending
“Hey I didn’t see you! Where were you amigo I could’ve used your support” Ernesto would say to you with a grin left over from the festivities, but soon realize your puffy red eyes. “What’s the matter? Did someone hurt you?”
As you dry your tears you shake your head. He wouldn’t understand how it hurt. He gets everything handed to him, so understanding heartbreak is probably something Ernesto is incapable of. Or so you think
Ernesto doesn’t buy it “I know when something is bothering you. What’s going on?”
You’re close to losing it. “Ernesto please stop. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m tired and you’ve got a big day ahead of you let’s just go to sleep” as you get up from the hotel chair to your bed
Ernesto stops you “if it’s about what I said then I’m sorry”. This is the most serious you’ve seen him.
As you take your arm back you look at him “it’s fine. I understand”
“No it’s not fine. I wasn’t being fully honest and I was being a coward. Let me explain my answer” Ernesto asked. You agree and both of you sit on his bed
“I do have feelings for you, but I don’t think I can be seen in public as.. well you know”. Ernesto hopes you do know and you finish the sentence “gay?” He nods
“Well then what if we hide us? Act like we usually do in public but act how we want when no one is watching?” You offered.
Ernesto would think about it for a moment “that’s actually a good idea. But it’s no wonder you thought of it, you are the brains out of the two of us”
You’d laugh “Then, Ernesto De La Cruz, will you go out with me?”
He takes you in his arms tight “of course I will mi flor”. You blush at the new nickname
So from then on after his concerts and any alone time you both got would be special for just you and him. He had even stopped going to some of the after parties just to sneak away with you
You’d always be holding hands under tables and blowing kisses from across the room when no one’s looking. Your friends and family easily caught on but wouldn’t say anything for both of your sakes
He gives the best hugs and holds you really close
He’d book the 1 bed hotel rooms and pretend like it was an accident but that it was fine in front of reception. But the moment you get to your room he’s snatching you and you’re both on the bed snuggling
You’d give him good luck kisses before concerts when he’s backstage
However all good things must come to an end..
There was one concert you regret for the rest of your life.
Ernesto was doing his usual, the crowd was cheering and singing with him, the lights were bright, there was even a fireworks show planned soon when he took his final bow. But they’d never reach that..
Someone slipped up backstage. No one saw who. But they released the large bell he was playing under, crushing Ernesto.
You scream and run to the bell as people grab you to hold you back. People are screaming and running out of the concert hall.
You sob uncontrollably as you make it past the people who were keeping you back. Some of the security was already trying to get the bell off, you decided to help out
It took a while but the bell was removed, and you saw him. It broke you to your very core. You drop to the ground next to where he was. You began begging for this to be a joke or for this to be a bad dream. Begging for any of this to not be real and that he’d walk over, hold you tight, and tell you it’s okay.
But that never happened. Just as he was crushed your heart was too, now there’s an empty space only he could’ve filled left.
A really good thing had come to an end for you
(SORRY I KNOW ITS SAD BUT I HAVE A PART 2 PLANNED DONT WORRY AND STAY TUNED. Also sorry if the story headcannons were weird I just felt like writing it like this)
*rose guide <3
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hexiewrites · 1 year
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make this inn our own: the lost years
note: I wrote this out while I was working on make this inn our own as a way to get the timeline right in my head. in the end, a lot of this information makes it into the fic itself, but I figured I'd post this in case anyone wanted to read it! you could read this without reading the fic, but note that there are some spoilers ahead! nothing that I think would ruin the fic if you choose to read this first, but it will remove some of the fun surprises I've thrown in for you as readers. either way, hope you enjoy!!
Steve leaves Hawkins right after he graduates high school. His dad drags him out of town one day early in the summer, literally the night before he’s supposed to start his new job at Scoops Ahoy. Steve begs to stay, wants to be around the kids just in case something else happens like it had in the fall even though they’re all pretty sure it’s over and they’re safe now. But he can’t say that to Richard, and Steve might be eighteen but he sure won’t make enough money at his mall job to pay for rent. What’s he going to do? Sleep in the Wheeler’s groddy basement? Absolutely not. Richard sells the beemer, sells the house, and packs his family off and away to the big apple.
Steve gets a job at Richard’s office, and puts his head down, and tries to convince himself everyone will be better off without him.
Dustin calls to yell, and Steve doesn’t call back. It hurts too much.
Robin Buckley starts at Scoops, and Steve Harrington’s name is on the schedule. He never shows up for training, and her manager grumbles and complains about spoiled rich kids and offers the job to the next teenager who shows up with a resume.
That teenager happens to be one Eddie Munson, who is already two senior years failed and in desperate need of more money to fund his D&D habit. He’s selling drugs by now, a little here and there, but Wayne told him to go and try to be respectable for once.
He almost quits when he sees the uniform, but no one else would hire a metalhead freak, so he sucks it up.
Dustin shows up after camp looking for Steve, and is devastated when Robin has no idea where he went. But Eddie spots his walkie, asks some questions, gets him to open up. Finally, Dustin, having no idea where his best friend has disappeared off to (he bikes to the Harringtons, it’s empty with a For Sale sign on the lawn) asks Robin and Eddie to help him crack the Russian code.
Eddie’s the one who recognizes the music, mostly because he’d been trying to make a mix tape in a back hallway at the mall and the stupid ride kept interrupting his recordings, even though he’s no use at any of the Russian stuff.
Dustin recruits Erica, the four break into the base, and Eddie learns much earlier that even though he’s a fucking coward, he knows how to plant his feet and stay when his friends need him. He doesn’t know when Band Girl Buckley and pre-freshman-dork-Dustin become his friends, but he throws himself in front of a Russian guard to save them, and knows he’d have done a lot more than that if he needed to.
Robin comes out to Eddie on the mall bathroom floor, and Eddie laughs and comes out right back, telling her about his embarassing crush: Steve Harrington.
He was supposed to work here, Robin says, with a snort and a laugh. Can you even imagine, Steve Harrington fighting off Russian Guards?
And that’s hilarious in it’s own right, but then Eddie remembers the uniform, and pictures golden boy Stevie in the tiny shorts, and, well.
Yeah, that crush maybe wasn’t as dead as he thought it was. Not like it matters, because as he’s heard over and over from Dustin, Steve Harrington is long gone and never coming back.
Still, Robin and Eddie are attached at the hip almost immediately. It’s pretty monumental, finding someone else who gets you in a way no one else ever has, in this small town in the middle of nowhere.
(And it’s monumental too, when Robin takes Eddie to the evening group at the Carnation Inn, the one for people like them, and like the Inn’s owners, who want to give them somewhere they can be safe and themselves, and Eddie finally gets to see that all that crap about highschool being the best time of your life? Absolute bullshit. There is a whole world out there waiting, ready with open arms, and god, he can’t wait to get to it.) 
Robin won’t go to Hellfire, and Eddie won’t go to pep rallies to watch her play, but they eat lunch together a few times a week when they’re both free. They trade barbs and jokes and shout about their wildly different music tastes (“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie—that’s MUSIC, Eddie!” “If you would just LISTEN TO HOLY DIVER you would UNDERSTAND!”), argue about who has worse fashion sense (Eddie) and taste in crushes (Robin), and shoot each other looks across the cafeteria, when one of those respective crushes sits just a little too close. Robin hangs around him in the woods while he deals, and she’s terrible for business because she literally never shuts up, but it doesn’t matter. Finally, Eddie has a friend who gets him in a way his Coffin members want to but don’t, and that’s worth every lost sale in the world.
(Plus, Robin had gotten them jobs at Family Video after the whole Starcourt disaster, so he’s got enough cash coming in that he doesn’t even really need to be selling anymore, and that’s kind of nice too.)
One day, early spring, head cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham finds them in the woods. She’s nervous and shaky, twitchy and constantly looking over her shoulder. She tries to buy weed, or something stronger, and Eddie and Robin exchange glances and try to calm her down, and then offer to bring her back to Eddie’s trailer after school and get high with her, so she doesn’t have to be alone.
Robin finds her in the bathroom, after their next class, puking her guts up and sobbing in the stall, and holds her hair and rubs her back through it. And Chrissy spills everything, tells Robin about the headaches and the nosebleeds and the nausea and the Jason of it all, and the goddamn lights flicker and Robin jumps into action immediately.
Because, like, first of all, Robin’s pretty sure the nausea isn’t upside down related. Pretty sure that’s a Jason Carver problem (definitely not one that should be solved with a mild acid trip) and that would be big enough on its own, but then lights and the nosebleeds?
Robin and Eddie make a plan: Chrissy can’t be in Hawkins if she’s connected to the Upside Down but doesn’t know it yet. Whatever is going on, whatever’s about to happen (and fuck, did they think they were over this, but apparently not) hits too close to home to the D&D campaign Eddie’s been working on, and even though he still hasn’t managed to figure out that whole part of all of this nonsense, he thinks their best shot is to get Chrissy the fuck out of dodge, just in case it’s another possession situation.
Instead of taking her to the trailer park, they go to the Inn. Otis Harrington clocks the problem immediately, at least, the Jason half of it, and promises Robin and Eddie he can help. He calls his grandson, estranged but still a good kid and around Chrissy’s age, and then he calls his travel agent. And then he drives the three teens to the airport in Indianapolis, and puts Chrissy on a flight. Steve has a good job, an apartment, and the heart to take in someone who has nowhere else to go.
Otis knows she’ll be safe there.
And she is. Steve picks her up at the airport and moves her into his guest room. It takes them time, figuring each other out, but when Chrissy finally comes to terms with what’s going on, Steve isn’t going anywhere. All he ever wanted was six kids and a winnebago, and this one might not technically be his by genetics, but she’s his in everything else that matters. He loves Chrissy too, but like the sister he never had. They cling to each other at night, when the nightmares get too strong, whisper about the things they saw in the dark. They raise a kid, a little girl they name Vanessa but call Ness, because she was a little monster as a baby and sometimes nicknames just stick.
Steve is happy with his little family. Still works for his dad. Keeps his head down. But he calls Otis every month, now, never talking about the reason why Richard broke contact. Never crossing a line that becomes a wall around a tough time, instead forging ahead with a new relationship, careful and precious, but only ever in the periphery.
Robin and Eddie make it back to Hawkins, and they don’t realize they’ve saved two lives. But they’re on alert, more prepared when they find Fred Benson’s broken body halfway between the school and the trailer park, and they jump into the action again, barely stopping to look back.
Code Red, baby, they know the drill.
Jason Carver, now missing his girlfriend, starts a witch hunt. Another kid on the team saw Chrissy getting into Eddie’s van, the day she disappeared, and he tries to convince the town Eddie’s behind it. But Robin was there too, and she has some social standing, and Otis has his own connections to the Sherriff’s department, and eventually Jason is the only one riled up to try to do anything about it.
One boy isn’t nearly as scary as a whole gang of them.
Without Steve, with Eddie more involved, without the feral gang of basketball players, some things go better and some things go worse. Eddie has more ideas about how to defeat Vecna, because he isn’t traumatized, and he knows the song and dance a bit. Lucas swims down to the gate with Eddie and Robin and Nancy, because he has the best lungs. He comes out scarred (physically and mentally) but mostly alright. 
In the second half of the plan, Jason still shows up at the Creel house, still tries to kill Lucas, but Erica manages a rescue call and Dustin scrambles in as back up with a second boombox just in time. They save Max somewhere between her losing her sight and dying.
Eddie sets up a tape, as a distraction, because he needs to stay with Robin to fight Vecna.
It works pretty damn well.
But Vecna has a bit more time, this time. Max has her tapes, and Lucas is pretty safe in himself even after his brush with death, but Jason is an easy target now, paranoid and desperate. Vecna snaps him like a twig, and then Nancy starts hearing chimes too. Still, Robin and Eddie and Nancy make it to the Creel house, and Nancy and Jason were enough of a distraction to buy El enough time, and this time: they win.
They crawl out of hell, closer still, clinging to each other. Max has a long road to recovery but she’s always been a stubborn fighter.
Nancy signs them all up for therapy, and no one knows how to say no to her, and they all won’t admit it but thank fucking god for therapy.
And then things, slowly, go back to normal. Eddie settles down to work for Wayne’s new home improvement company and builds himself a cottage on the shore of Lover's Lake, so he can keep an eye out for anything suspicious. He'd wanted to see the world, but now he can't imagine being anywhere but here. Someone has to stand sentry, and he knows it has to be him.
Robin tries to leave for school but the nightmares keep her up and the thought of being away from her family hurts too much and it’s not long before she’s back in Hawkins, apprenticing with a local electrician before taking up with Eddie and Wayne. Eddie doesn't say it much, but she comes back just as the kids are planning to all leave, and he's never been more relieved to not have to be alone in his life.
Everything settles down, for the next ten years.
Until Steve inherits the Carnation Inn, and finds himself back in the place he knows he never should have left.
That’s where our story starts and the rest, as they say, is history.
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omnybus · 2 years
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The House (2022) Netflix Original Analysis
I watched this anthology months ago, but it hasn't appeared on my dash until now so I figure I'd throw in my two cents about the film and its message. I feel the overall theme in this anthology is about the different ways that materialism ends up hurting people, and leaves them disconnected from the world.
(Spoilers)
In the first short, the parents become so obsessed with the new house and all the stuff it has to offer they not only ignore their daughter's pleas, but also all the red flags popping up around them. Plus the way that the father starts out humble and almost a bit proud of the furniture he's had for generations, soon starts laughing and belitting the sight of his old house being destroyed. Later he's seen happily burning all his old belongings, wasting otherwise perfectly good furniture just because he has new ones. The wife, meanwhile, sews a bunch of curtains to cover the windows, metaphorically blinding them to the outside world with a wall of envious green. She's later shown producing far, far more curtains then she could possibly need, almost smothering herself in them. In the end, they are consumed by their materialism as they are transformed into furniture themselves, their pride, excess, and ignorance of their surroundings, reducing them to mere extentions of the house. It's only when their own daughter's life is in danger that they actually reach out to her, but by then they're too far gone and are consumed by the fire and the house.
In the second short, the Developer is shown to be deep in debt and is trying his best to sell his house to pay it off. The house seems perfectly fine at first, but he insists on dolling it up with exotic and expensive fittings, furniture, and "state-of-the-art" gadgets, trying to make the house more impressive than it actually is while ironically sending him deeper in debt. This theme of trying to put on airs of wealth and sophistication runs through the whole short, especially during the open house scene- he tries to present junk food and energy drinks like champagne and canapes, he dresses up in a nice suit despite spending most of the short in his underpants, and trying and failing to woo the others with his gaudy gizmos like the bluetooth lights and rotisserie oven (which, let's be honest, are neat but wouldn't serve much practical use in daily life; I mean how often would any of us actually cook a rotisserie chicken?). He even sleeps in a cot in the basemenr instead of his own bed upstairs just to keep it looking nice. All the while problems pile up- stuff breaks, messes build up, and of course the fur beetles grow out of control as the Odd Couple continue squatting in his house. During all this slow-boiling chaos, the Developer has no-one to help him; no family, no friends... the only person he feels a connection to is his dentist, who eventually gets fed up with him. In the end, the house is in ruins as the rat-bugs tear up and devour everything, and the Developer, now reduced to a naked, feral creature, learns an ugly truth the hard way: no matter how fancy his house, clothes, or belongings are, he's still a rat deep down, and failing to accept his shortcomings ultimately led to his mental collapse.
In the third short, Rosa's problems are sort of a mix between the previous two: she's obsessed with trying to renovate the house to get more tenants and more money, yet is utterly blind to the world and people around her. The world outside is completely flooded, and everyone has either left or drowned; even if she manages to fix up the place there's nobody left to rent from her, nor anyone to exchange the money with for anything. Instead of acknowledging this, Rosa blames her problems on her tenants for not paying rent. Normally she'd be rightfully upset with being paid with fish and rocks, but what does she honestly expect? Neither of her tenants have any way of making money even if they wanted to. The only reason they seem to stick around is because they truly care about Rosa despite her bitterness, and want her to stop obsessing over this lost cause. Eventually something comes along to shake up the status quo in the form of Cosmos, who at first offers to help Rosa with her project, but instead tears up floorboards, builds a boat for the two tenants, and converts Rosa's house into a makeshift sailboat. But ultimately it is up to Rosa to choose whether to stay here in her ultimately doomed comfort zone or venture forth into the scary but more hopeful unknown. And unlike the other two shorts, Rosa gets the happier ending because while she does start off materialistic, she has something the other victims of the house didn't have: love and support from friends who care about her.
Ultimately, consumerism ends up consuming you back, and can leave you in a state of hollow isolation and dissatisfaction that no amount of expensive toys and trinkets can fulfill. This is the true meaning of "money can't buy happiness"; while nice things are nice and money certainly solves a lot of our problems, past a certain point it just becomes more disposable income. Money can't buy or replace real, meaningful relationships with other people, which we all need to truly be happy.
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