#tldr: didn’t hate it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jenscx · 7 months ago

Text

KISS ME MORE — ning yizhuo

tldr: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

tags fluff, crack, jealousy, non-idol au, roommates, based off that one reddit story, short fic, dialogue heavy, mentions of jmj, hi yunjin! tw for oblivious ning, pacing’s weird kinda

wordcount 5.2k

🎙️ author’s note: happy birthday ning! late fic ik… but i’ve been busy (i’m sorry 😞) hope our dearest main vocal stays happy for the rest of her life! can’t imagine aespa without her 🤍 happy reading~

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 16 hours ago.

TLDR: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

i am currently roommates with this girl, A. we've been staying together ever since we graduated and we’re very close. sometimes we’ll even jokingly flirt with each other but she knows i’m straight and she has never made me uncomfortable before. i’m a foreigner and A has definitely helped me grow accustomed to the culture here. i owe it all to her. which is why i’m confused about my feelings right now.

i’ve never thought of myself to be discriminatory towards anyone and i always welcomed those different from me, regardless of their sexual orientation. however, recently my roommate has come out to me. i supported her and didn’t think much of it after. but here’s where the problem starts. she came back with a girl a few days ago that i recognise from our extended friend group. i have nothing against gay people but when i saw the girl, i just felt so upset. at first i thought it was because i was in a bad mood and all i wanted was to cuddle with A, but afterwards, A would progressively get more touchy with that girl (lets call her Y). every time i would see them, i just felt bad. i wanted to puke at the sight.

i caught them making out on the couch once and i got so pissed off. i think it was because of a rough day but basically when my roommate started to apologise, i just blew her off. Y seemed embarrassed too. i felt really bad afterwards since A was really hurt by my action. she asked me why i was so angry and i just lied saying that something at work made me upset. i don’t want to tell her that it was because seeing her with a girl that i was annoyed.

there was another incident where she brought Y to our weekly game night. all my friends seemed fine with her, except for me. one of my friends, let’s call her M, had to pull me aside to ask what was wrong with me. in that moment, i realised that i was only hurting A and Y by being a jerk. i’m normally a polite person but that day i was being unnecessarily rude to someone i didn’t even know. i chalked it up as wanting only the best for A since she’s a year younger than me and wanting to protect her. she doesn’t really date anyone and she’s very quiet. am i being unreasonable? i really don’t want to be homophobic. i told M all about my feelings of homophobia and she told me that she was dating a girl too. i didn’t know why she brought it up but then she asked if i felt any disgust towards her for being gay. i said no and that her sexual orientation would never change our friendship.

so she asked why do i only feel that way towards A? and i want to extend that question to everyone here too. can someone help? do you have any experience with something like this? i don’t want to lose A as a friend. she’s one of my best friends and i can’t see myself not standing beside her in the future. we’ve been through a lot together and i don’t want this to be the reason why we end our friendship. she’s never once complained about my dating life and it feels hypocritical to do the same to hers. but i just feel queasy whenever she brings up other girls. like i want to bash my head against the wall type.

do i have selective homophobia? can someone help?

⇧ 157 | ⇩ | 89 comments

u/betterthingz01 | 12h

op i hate to break this to you… but i think you might be in love with your roommate.

u/throwawaylizard | 12h

can you elaborate? please!!!

u/flatearther | 11h

Are u sure u don’t have a crush on A? Or that u are straight?

u/throwawaylizard | 10h

uhm well i’m straight… so i don’t think i have a crush on A but if i was into girls, i’d definitely fall in love with her!! she’s really sweet and caring.

u/flatearther | 10h

Oh 😭😭

u/mingmingz | 7h

how do you feel if your roommate brought back a different girl? maybe you just don’t like Y as a person?

u/throwawaylizard | 7h

she used to bring other girls around too i think they were just friends though. i felt the same way but just seeing her kiss Y makes me want to throw up :((

u/blueskies444 | 5h

have u tried talking to ur roommate? i think communication is the best solution here

u/throwawaylizard | 4h

i talked to her a few days ago, asking her if she could stop bringing Y to our hangouts or apartment because it feels weird. our friend group only really consisted of five people and as bad as it sounds, Y just felt like an intruder. she kinda looked at me weird before agreeing. but then she asked if i would be fine if she went to Y’s apartment instead and obviously i said it wasn’t any of my business. A got a little upset and we haven’t been talking recently…

u/blueskies444 | 4h

i’m gonna be real w u for a sec and say that A is most definitely trying to get u jealous

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

why would she do that?

u/blueskies444 | 2h

yeahhh i’m not the one who should tell u why

“ning yizhuo, why am i getting messages from jimin unnie saying that she found your reddit post?” minjeong’s voice shrills out behind yizhuo. the girl shrinks, shivers running down her spine at the thought of anyone finding out about her post. she had resorted to reddit for help after much consideration and even aeri had said that reddit was surprisingly helpful at times.

“that’s not me! you’ve got the wrong person!”

minjeong rolls her eyes and tosses her phone onto yizhuo’s desk, “that’s literally you. ddongie would be upset to know that he’s a throwaway lizard.”

yizhuo instantly protests, “that just means that it isn’t my main account! i didn’t want people to find my real account.”

“oh, so you are throwaway lizard?”

she cowers at minjeong’s intense gaze, knowing that her little slip up just cost her whole facade.

“well the comments were helpful!”

“did you not reread what you typed out?”

minjeong’s genuine tone makes yizhuo hesitate.

“yeah? did i make a lot of spelling mistakes…?”

“no! did you not realise?” minjeong asks again. yizhuo huffs, swerving back around in her chair, “realise what? that i’m a bad friend? y/n hasn’t talked to me in days.”

just as she said in her reddit post, you haven’t spoken a word to her ever since that day she confronted you. yizhuo doesn’t think she was super mean with her words but the way you had reacted made it seemed like she killed your whole family.

she had only said, “hey, can you stop bringing yunjin over?” and her mere words had launched a full-blown argument where you had insinuated that yizhuo was jealous that you had someone to rely on.

it couldn’t have been further from the truth! yizhuo would never be upset about your happiness. any semblance of bitterness had lessened when she saw how bright your smile was or how much you were laughing when yunjin would tell a joke.

(she didn’t find it funny but at least you laughed. yunjin was the epitome of dad jokes. she was not funny.)

“she really hasn’t? wow, she’s determined,” minjeong chuckles.

yizhuo rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her sketchbook. a few scrawned out designs, nothing much. just to take her mind off this situation for now. the pencil drawings somehow only manages to ensure that her brain constantly thinks about you though. how you encouraged her to enrol in a fashion course and how you were certain that yizhuo would become the biggest designer ever known.

she would giggle at your claims and humour you. now all that was left was your silence.

“why would she be determined to ignore me?” yizhuo asks, sighing, “i was upset but now it just seems like she thinks i don’t want her to be happy.”

minjeong raises an eyebrow, “what did the comments say? did they help?”

yizhuo huffs just thinking about the reddit comments. none of them really helped her to identify her feelings. just stating that she was gay and in love. both wrong!

“they said i’m in love with y/n and i’m jealous of yunjin,” she answers coolly, trying not to get too worked up over the false accusations.

minjeong winces, “do you think they’re right?”

yizhuo furrows her eyebrows.

“no?! i’m not gay!”

“but do you like y/n?”

“no! she’s just a very good friend!”

the brunette sighs, “that’s what they all say.”

“minjeong!”

yizhuo couldn’t be in love with you. no way. you were really just a good friend. one of her closest. she adored you greatly and wanted the best for you.

“so why are you so upset?” minjeong asks.

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking reddit! but now i just look like an idiot,” yizhuo groans, wanting to pull her hair out of frustration, which truly shows how irritated she was. she would never harm her hair.

“yizhuo, have you ever considered that you’re not as straight as you thought?”

yizhuo turns back to face minjeong, who’s sitting on her bed. she thinks back to all the times you’ve hung out with her. the lingering touches of comfort. the warmth she felt whenever you spoke.

she just wants her friend back. and she doesn’t know why she’s acting so unreasonable. could minjeong have a point? what if yizhuo…

“oh my gosh! i’m jealous since she’s out and gay—”

minjeong lights up, squealing, “yes!”

“and i’m just a straight girl without any confidence! i’m jealous of her confidence!”

minjeong deflates almost instantly.

yizhuo knows she’s right, so she immediately hatches a plan to talk to you. one comment said communication was vital in preserving this friendship, so yizhuo jumped into action. she knew you had your shifts at night and yizhuo could catch you off-guard right after. your work usually ended late and yizhuo always dozed off on the couch waiting for you. recently that routine has been broken, of course, but that’s when you’re most susceptible to vulnerability. yizhuo needed space to be honest and truthful.

thus, she waits patiently in the living room. yizhuo’s not really sure how long your shift lasts but she normally hears your keys jingle at midnight, so maybe then?

she waits an hour. then another. and then another. she spends the time scrolling on instagram, a frown forming on her face when yunjin appears on her feed.

then, finally, she hears the door creaking. jumping up from her lying position, yizhuo sits upright, focused.

“oh,” is your first word to her. not ‘hi’, or ‘hello’, just an acknowledgment.

yizhuo blinks at the sight of you in your work attire. but she quickly shoves the thought of how attractive you looked into the back of her mind.

“hey,” she winces at her own unfamiliar tone, “can we talk?”

you stare at her in shock before reluctantly nodding.

“yeah, sure.”

she pats the space next to her and clears her throat as you sit down.

“i know i’ve kind of been a jerk lately especially to you and yunjin, but i just want to say that i’m sorry.”

surprise flickers in your eyes, “oh.”

“i talked to minjeong unnie and it really cleared things up. i realised that i was upset because it felt like we weren’t as close as before. knowing that someone like yunjin could come replace me. i was jealous that you had someone while i didn’t. it felt like you were moving on without me, so i got a bit angry. i’m really sorry for the way i treated you and yunjin.”

(their first interaction really went poorly. yizhuo had came home, ready for a long movie night, just to find a random girl (well, not really random) sprawled out on her couch.

“i’m home,” yizhuo calls out, carefully approaching the body. long and lanky is the first thing she notices. and the bright red hair. yizhuo dyed her hair red before, it stained her pillowcase cover. she wonders if this girl’s pillowcase covers are stained with red dye too.

“hey, how was your day?” you ask, laying beside the girl, “sorry, this is yunjin. we just finished a gym session together with aeri unnie. minjeong unnie knows her.”

no wonder why you were barely dressed. yizhuo scrunches her nose at the sight of yunjin’s arm wrapped around your bare torso. she nods and asks quietly, “why is she here?”

you laugh, “i was bragging about my post-gym lunch and she said she wanted to try.”

yizhuo’s never tried your cooking before. she feels a little out of place now.

“ah, okay,” she replies dryly, not bothering to keep her volume down, “is she going to be here all day?”

yunjin wakes up at the commotion, a little disoriented as she shifts.

“oh, shit. sorry, y/nnie,” yunjin yawns, sitting up, “sorry ning, i accidentally fell asleep.”

“it’s yizhuo. only my friends call me ning,” she spits out. you send her a scalding look that makes her want to retract her words, “whatever. sorry. see you guys later.”

at night, just before you leave for your shift, you reprimand her, saying that she was extremely rude to someone she didn’t even know. yizhuo had tuned out most of your scolding, not wanting to hear you defend yunjin.)

“oh…”

yizhuo swallows harshly, squeezing her eyes shut, “i just need you to know i’m not praying for your downfall or anything. i want the best for you, especially since you feel like my younger sister.”

as soon as she finishes her little speech, she opens her eyes to your flabbergasted expression. eyebrows furrowed with your mouth agape.

“uhm… can you forgive me?”

yizhuo really needs you to forgive her. she doesn’t know what she would do if you decided that this was the breaking point for your friendship. she would respect your decision but still, it wouldn’t be nice. who would want that? and if you decided to end the friendship, what would happen with the apartment? yizhuo really likes being roommates with you. it would suck to have to find another roommate as meticulous as you.

“well— uhm, of course,” you stutter, “i gotta go shower. sorry.”

“oh, okay.”

just as you’re about to get up, yizhuo reaches for your hand, “we’re okay, right?”

she watches your throat bobble before rasping out, “yes. we’re fine.”

wow! yizhuo mentally pats herself on the back.

that was so easy. it felt like a whole weight got lifted off her chest. yizhuo smiles to herself and enters her own room, proud.

(meanwhile, in your own room, you vent to yunjin, bewildered by yizhuo’s obliviousness.

“she said i’m like a sister! her absolute gall! and she said it’s because she’s upset she doesn’t have someone like me! your whole jealousy tactic didn’t do shit!”

“girl, calm down. i didn’t know you liked the dumb ones. who knew she was so stupid?”)

you stare at yizhuo, who’s trying her best not to show any disdain for the way yunjin’s arm was slung over your shoulder. she must either be extremely self-repressed or just stupid. probably both. unless she didn’t actually like you. that thought, you didn’t dare to entertain. the once confident and bold girl had turned into this timid and shy kitten.

“take a shot if you’ve kissed someone in this room before!” aeri reads out the card before gulping down her drink. minjeong and jimin do the same and so do a few others. when yunjin shakes you ever so slightly, you take the initiative to swallow down the burning sensation. yizhuo’s glare narrows before she turns away entirely.

subtly grinning at her act of jealousy, you hum happily. there’s an outcry of people asking who aeri kissed and the attention shifts away. most people in your extended friend group had assumed you and yunjin to be dating. the only people who knew the truth were minjeong and aeri. jimin was kept in the dark since well, truthfully, she couldn’t keep a secret from yizhuo.

“take a shot if you ever kissed someone of the same gender.”

there’s more people drinking this time. you drink yours after a refill and so does yunjin. your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets when yizhuo drinks as well. wasn’t she straight?

“who did you kiss?!” jimin screeches.

yizhuo wipes her lips, glistening with alcohol, “a friend. it was a dare in high school.”

you listen with rapt attention as aeri eggs on, “was it good? are girls better than guys?”

“well, it was definitely less sloppy,” yizhuo shrugs, giggling. her blush has worsened under the lighting and you can tell she’s at least tipsy now. the redness was currently spreading throughout her cheekbones and neck. you would coo at the adorable sight of her pouting and playing with the soju bottle if she wasn’t the stupidest girl on earth. you noticed how yizhuo drank every time yunjin squeezed your shoulder or you leaned into her touch. was she seriously still so thick?

“take a shot if you ever crushed on someone in this room,” aeri groans, downing her glass again. you drink yours and others follow. it wasn’t unexpected. you were seventy percent sure that most of the guys had crushed on jimin before, at least for a second. or maybe hanbin. he was cute too. that, you could admit.

“aeri… why are all the questions about dating?!” jimin whines, flopping onto the carpeted floor. minjeong winces before exclaiming, “i think she’s drunk now. let’s call it a night, okay?”

you agree. yizhuo looks seconds away from passing out as well and despite your recent gym endeavours, you do not want to carry a twenty four year old woman back home. yunjin taps your side and slyly tilts her head towards yizhuo, who’s leaning against the couch.

“go save your princess, romeo,” she whispers and stands to help minjeong clean up.

after all the bottles had been cleared, you crouched to yizhuo’s eye level, “ning, let’s go. it’s time to go home.”

her eyelids flutter open and she blinks at you wearily, “home?”

you nod, standing to wrap her arm over your shoulder to steady her. finally on her two feet, you bid goodbye to everyone and make your way home, albeit slowly.

every minute or so, yizhuo would jolt and nearly topple over. right as you reach your place, she leans over to the sidewalk drain and gags. you let go instantly and take out your phone to record her. next time she wants to get drunk, you’ll just show her the video. let her reflect.

“yizhuo, hurry up, i wanna shower,” you complain, dragging the hem of her shirt.

“o-okay…!”

“uhm, you have to get up.”

yizhuo nods again, wobbling as she stands. you grip her wrist and pull her into the apartment lobby. her body weighs heavily onto yours in the lift and you huff at the stench of alcohol.

“you smell bad,” you sigh.

“really?” yizhuo giggles, “you don’t like it?” the elevator dings.

she turns around to rest her head on your shoulder.

“i shouldn’t have gotten so drunk…”

“no kidding. c’mon you big baby.”

finally, after much effort, you manage to get yizhuo onto the couch. you’re heaving and panting at the end but at least she’s comfortable.

“please never get this drunk again,” you groan, flopping onto the couch.

yizhuo moans, “not my fault.”

“yeah? who’s fault is it then?”

she flips herself around, facing the ceiling, “y-yours.”

“how is it my fault?”

“you and yunjin…” she slurs out and your heart leaps.

“how is it our fault?”

“you keep touching each other,” yizhuo inhales sharply before mumbling, “i hate it…”

grinning, you pat her back.

“yeah. it’s my fault. sorry baby.”

“hmfph…”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 4 hours ago.

UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hi guys! so i know some of you all have been asking for an update and here it is. there’s really nothing much that has changed? we’re back to normal, mostly. A doesn’t bring Y around as much anymore which honestly, should make me feel guilty but i don’t. we had a talk and i think it went rather well. i told her i felt like i was left behind and she forgave me for being so shitty.

it feels like this was just a hurdle in our friendship and we’re closer than ever. she’s become really touchy with me and i appreciate that things are back to normal. she’s been initiating talks and hangout sessions which boosts my mood immensely. i’m really happy with the progress we made. we’ve even started cooking together and it feels awesome. Y had tasted her cooking before and i didn’t. so it felt like this hole in my heart had been patched up. our movie nights have become solely ours and everything’s great. she’s the sweetest girl i know and the most caring, so i really do feel happy that i have my best friend and roommate back. our cold war was doing a toll on my mental and physical health but a simple conversation had cleared the air so easily.

sometimes when she brings up Y since she still hangs out with her, i do feel a little upset. she told me they aren’t dating, just good friends. but other than that, we’re cool. thanks for all the comments! i’m glad i’m not homophobic :D

⇧ 178 | ⇩ | 102 comments

u/imissher | 3h

op you can’t be serious…

u/throwawaylizard | 3h

? what’s wrong

u/imissher | 2h

it feels as if you haven’t really solved this ‘homophobia’ issue. just put it off to the side.

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

IM NOT HOMOPHOBIC 😭

u/mingzmingz | 2h

well i’m glad? as long as you guys are happy ig. idk what’s up with gay people

u/throwawaylizard | 2h

thank you! i’m not gay though.

u/japansfinest | 1h

HOLY SHIT NING

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

OMG DONT DOX ME???

u/japansfinest | 1h

GIRL BE SERIOUS RN 😐😐

u/1800hotnfun | 1h

i strive to live as blissfully ignorant as you, op

u/throwawaylizard | 1h

not very sure if this is a compliment.

things had reverted back to normal. yizhuo was happy again and it seemed like everything was fine.

so how did she get here?

yizhuo had simply gone out to get groceries for your dinner together and when she arrived home, hands full of plastic bags, she heard the tail of your conversation over the phone.

“i don’t think she’s picking up my hints, yun,” you say in hushed whispers, “maybe she really is straight. or she just doesn’t like me.”

despite yizhuo’s moral compass, she decides to listen in on your conversation. she’s never heard of you liking someone before, or being so insecure. what girl wouldn’t like you back? and you liked a straight girl too?

she can’t hear yunjin’s reply but you let out an exasperated sigh, “maybe she thinks i’m just being a really good friend. i thought she would have already realised i liked her by now. your whole jealousy plan didn’t work either. i mean, it did but not really.”

yizhuo slowly twists the door knob before loudly announcing, “i’m home!”

she hopes that by now, you would have ended the call so she wouldn’t have to interact with yunjin at all.

“oh,” she catches the anxiety in your voice, “did you get everything?”

“yup. there was a sale on apples, so i got those too,” yizhuo says, a little too cheerfully, but she wants to cover up any nervousness. as she places the bags on the kitchen counter, you stand up to help unpack everything.

while you start to arrange all the groceries, yizhuo thinks about your words. liking someone. a girl. a straight girl who was potentially oblivious to your advances?

yizhuo scrunches her nose.

sounds…

familiar.

“hey, did you get healthier milk? the one with less sugar added.”

as you twirl around to ask, yizhuo’s heart gets caught in her throat.

she was the straight oblivious girl.

“uh— yeah. i got both,” she gestures awkwardly to the pile of bags. you nod and go back to sorting everything out. god, she needs a breather. trudging to the couch, she sighs as the softness envelops her. she couldn’t wrap her head around this— you liked her? potentially? definitely?

yizhuo spends the next few minutes having an existential crisis. she was straight! the straight girl that you liked! and that whole jealousy thing with yunjin! you planned that! she can’t believe it. all her nights were spent debating whether she was homophobic or not and it was all a rouse to get her jealous? well, was she jealous? minjeong had seemed intent on getting her to admit that, which she did. but maybe it was because she was jealous of yunjin.

not for taking up your time.

but for being able to touch you and hold you in ways she can’t.

holy shit. she’s not as straight as she once thought.

and she has a huge crush on her roommate.

how could she let reddit comments be right?!

yizhuo stares blankly at the ceiling. you call out from the kitchen, “do you want white or red wine?”

she stands up from the couch, resolute in her decision now.

no wonder you had looked so offended after she sister zoned you! yizhuo would hate it too if all she was to you was an unnie. she wanted— no, needed to be your everything.

“yizhuo?” you ask again, examining the two bottles of wine.

yizhuo almost sprints into the kitchen. the sight of you with your hair up, the cute lace white apron wrapped around your waist, and your focused expression. it has her drooling. everything was so domestic.

how hasn’t yizhuo noticed this sooner?

“white wine please,” she answers when you’re within arms reach.

“are we drinking the whole bottle?”

she stretches out her arms to engulf your body in hers and reads the label on the wine bottle over your shoulder. taking gratification in the way your body shudders, yizhuo hides a pleased smirk.

“hm, should we?” she whispers hotly beside your ear. you shiver before muttering, “maybe. is tonight a special occasion?”

“i mean, it could be,” yizhuo grins, “you were promoted recently, right?”

tonight was one of your day-offs, and you came back recently, boasting about the extra time off you got from being promoted. of course that was celebrated with a simple get together with friends. but yizhuo didn’t get her own special celebration with you.

“yeah? okay, we’ll drink it all then.”

yizhuo smiles into your hair. she’s never felt happier. knowing that her inner frustrations had been settled finally. you were just trying to get her jealous. a good attempt nonetheless, it worked incredibly well. but now she’s certain of her own feelings.

“you smell nice,” she blurts out.

“i used your shampoo. ran out of mine.”

“mhm. smells good.”

yizhuo spots the hint of satisfaction on your face.

“are you complimenting yourself right now?”

“i have really good taste,” she states.

you roll your eyes playfully before detaching her arms but she just slithers them back into place.

“ning, i have to cook.”

“hold on,” she mumbles, “i think we can celebrate another thing.”

sensing your confusion, she continues brazenly, “we can celebrate our first night as a couple, right?”

“what—”

“i’m sorry for being so oblivious this whole time. i got so pissy because i was jealous. apparently, i’m not straight. or i just like you, i don’t know yet. all i know is that i envision myself by your side,” yizhuo explains, “everytime you mentioned yunjin i got upset and it’s because i thought you guys were dating. that’s why i didn’t like any of the girls you brought home either. i’m sorry for saying you’re like my sister. i like you a lot. not in a straight girl way.”

she hears you gasp and she can’t bring herself to continue without your reaction. yizhuo’s been through so much struggle with coming to terms with her identity and feelings and now she wants to get it all out.

“are you serious?” you ask without facing her. she chuckles at the redness at the tips of your ears.

“yeah. sorry for being a jerk. it was because i like you.”

“ning yizhuo— i… wait, let go of me for a minute. i wanna look at you.”

reluctantly, she does so.

you look so pretty under the kitchen light, yizhuo thinks.

“uhm, where do i even start?” you chuckle awkwardly, “i really thought you were into me when we first met and when you said you were straight… i think my heart died a little! but it’s okay, since you’ve been such a great friend to me. i must admit that yunjin did volunteer to be my plot device to make you jealous. i was hurt when you were being rude, so i’m happy you apologised. i like you too. a lot.”

yizhuo grins, heart beating wildly against her chest.

“can you say that again?”

“i like you a lot, yizhuo. can’t believe you called me a sister though.”

“i said i was sorry!”

r/relationships posted by

u/throwawaylizard 7 hours ago.

LAST UPDATE: my (22f) gay roommate’s (21f) dating life makes me feel weird. she’s one of my best friends but now i’m wondering if i could be homophobic.

hello! i’m glad to announce that this situation has finally been settled with a happy ending. i would like to give you guys a proper explanation and ending for all the help you provided.

first of all, yes, i’m not straight. or maybe i just like A. i haven’t explored that part yet but also, i’m in love with my roommate. i was jealous of all the girls she brought over and i wanted to be the one holding her and making her laugh.

second of all, you guys were right. she was using Y to make me jealous and it worked. so maybe she’s the real mastermind.

and lastly, we’re finally dating. we’ve been taking things slow for now since this is all new to me but A has been incredibly sweet and supportive (as she always is). it’s just a new experience but i’m willing to do anything as long as A is by my side.

thank you all for the help and comments!

it turns out i don’t have any problems with A kissing girls if it’s me she’s kissing.

⇧ 359 | ⇩ | 153 comments

#aespa #aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #ning yizhuo x reader #ningning x reader #yizhuo x reader #ning yizhuo #ningning

732 notes · View notes

thedaythatwas · 4 months ago

Text

on nagito komaeda and love

I just think it’s sort of funny that for a character whose (arguably) most well-recognized CG is this:

komaeda’s narrative so heavily centers love. and I don’t just say this because I’ve had komahina brainrot for years (though this is true!!). even if you don’t care about komahina, it’s tough to deny komaeda is a walking tragedy in large part because of the role that love plays in his life. his characterization is driven by the way his luck has denied him love, and how he seeks it out regardless. in that sense, I think that without understanding komahina as at least one-sided, you miss out on one of the juiciest, most miserable pieces of komaeda’s character development.

tldr; a love-centered reading of komaeda makes sense, recognizing komahina as “a thing” in DR2 (whether you ship it or not) is pretty important to understanding how komaeda operates, and I’ll try to prove it right here under this page break!!

Part 1: Komaeda’s Love Life (or, his life without love)

I think it’s safe to assume that if you clicked here, you know about komaeda’s absurdly miserable, tumultuous childhood, but I’ll do a quick recap just in case! meteor kills his parents on a plane, he inherits a ton of money. he’s kidnapped by a serial killer, he finds a winning lottery ticket in the garbage bag he’s thrown out in. he’s diagnosed with terminal cancer and dementia, he gets into hope’s peak.

in his free time events, komaeda *explicitly* frames his luck cycle as something that takes away the people he loves. it only “takes action” against him after his relatives have died (for the sake of this essay, let’s assume that komaeda loved his parents, or would have at least been hurt by their passing). by way of other close connections… well, his wording here implies that by the time of his diagnosis, he didn’t really have anybody in his life.

either komaeda didn’t allow himself to get close to anyone after the meteor incident, or he did, and they were taken away by his luck. at some point during his childhood, komaeda learned he should view himself as a death sentence.

so, how does this loss of love shape the komaeda we know? I’ll talk about this in terms of four of his defining (and connected!) traits in DR2 canon – the ones that really make his actions make sense: his self-loathing, his hope-seeking, his learned helplessness, and his certainty that his existence poses a threat to those around him. komaeda’s experience with loss makes him view himself as a source of death, which in turn fuels these tenets of his character. ultimately, his loss and the complexes that arise from it give him good incentive to push people away.

his self-loathing

komaeda hates himself. he views himself as worthless outside of his potential to serve as a “stepping stone” for the hope of the ultimates. he claims that this is driven by his beliefs around talent, which are in turn linked to the way his worldview rests on viewing hope as “absolute good.” the talentless (himself included) are only good for advancing the hope of the talented. still, his self-loathing is a bit more personal than that. take what he says and dig just below the surface, and it’s a clean cut trauma response all the way down. which leads us directly to…

his hope-seeking

komaeda is willing to do literally anything to serve hope. on the island, this (in short) means dying. this is where I prod at komaeda’s reasoning a bit more: komaeda’s willingness to act the way he does in canon also stems from his belief that his dying would be a net good for the world. his existence kills the people around him. his illness will kill him anyway. he has less than no value, and hope is invaluable. to go out for the sake of hope would give his wretched life purpose; it’s his dream come true.

and it’s no mystery why komaeda cares so much about hope: again, it’s a coping mechanism! komaeda’s belief that all bad luck is a necessary precursor for good luck and that hope will always triumph over despair is (as he himself says!) the only reason he’s managed to stay alive. I’ll say it again because I really can’t emphasize it enough – komaeda thinks that just by existing, he kills the people he loves. ouch!

learned helplessness / his existence as a threat

komaeda has, essentially, learned to submit to his luck cycle. all bad luck is good luck in the end – isn’t that amazing?! almost paradoxically, he’s hyper-vigilant about the negative impact his luck has on those around him. this is a tricky one. I make sense of it this way: komaeda’s perception of how much his luck impacts the people close to him isn’t inflated, like, at all. the supernatural way the world bends around komaeda to screw him over really does pose a danger to himself and others, and he takes measures to minimize that danger. his stated acceptance of his luck cycle is… well, again, he’s coping.

if komaeda really thought that all bad luck is ultimately good luck, he wouldn’t try to protect his classmates from his bad luck. but, as we see in island mode, he does!

but really, who could blame komaeda for lying to himself? I’ll restate the facts. komaeda thinks that luck is absolute power. he says that he’s powerless against it. his luck has taken his family, and it’s left him with nothing but money that he doesn’t want. he’s certain he’s a curse, and there’s no end to that in sight: so long as komaeda exists, he’ll keep on losing – murdering – everything he loves.

in the face of all of that despair, what can you do but abandon your self-esteem and pray for something good to come out of all of it? how else could somebody possibly survive carrying that burden, truly believing that load will never be lightened?

tldr; komaeda thinks his existence is a threat, and a big chunk of his personality is a frankensteined way of surviving the pain that comes with that. still, we should question how much of his worldview komaeda has really internalized without inner conflict.

Part 2: Enter Hajime Hinata

we get some answers on that front when we see that despite the clear and obvious danger it poses, nagito komaeda still finds himself falling hard for hajime hinata. that’s really, really loud.

I’ll preface this part by saying that you don’t need to actively ship komahina to understand what I’m trying to get at here. this said, I’ll be recapping an argument you’ve almost definitely seen before: komahina is definitely “a thing” – at the very least as a one-sided thing. to this, I’ll add the (perhaps bold?) claim that without recognizing that much as true, you’re missing out on a big part of what makes komaeda so interesting.

komaeda’s FTEs make it abundantly clear that komaeda has feelings for hinata. apart from his famed failed love confession, the fact that komaeda is willing to allow hinata to get close enough to learn about his views on hope and luck is telling.

(the smoking gun here hinges on trusting that komaeda was telling the truth during the time you spent with him; in so many words, that he only lied about lying. so, for the sake of argument, let’s assume this is true! there’s good proof for it, anyway.)

if you read his final FTE as komaeda flashing his soul to hinata and making a decision at the very last second to retreat, turning to old coping mechanisms to protect hinata from his luck, it’s sort of a komahina bombshell. that capitulation spells out for us that komaeda understands sharing his life experiences with hinata to be one of the most intimate things he could possibly do.

he recognizes the exact moment he lets hinata get too close – when his life story is finally told – and he does what he’s learned he needs to do to get them both out of that situation safely: he tries to make hinata hate him, and tells himself (and hinata!) that he did it for the sake of hope.

(and yet, komaeda let hinata approach him every FTE, knowing damn well that they were both playing with fire… very interesting.)

now, let’s say you don’t consider the FTEs to be integral to canon. I mean, you can really easily miss out on all of komaeda’s content if you choose not to hang out with him in chapter 1! so, for the skeptic, in the unskippable main story, komaeda tells hinata this:

komaeda cares about hinata despite everything. and I really, truly mean despite everything. at this point in the story, the fact that he still cares about hinata calls into question basically every single one of his core beliefs. he’s read his final dead room prize – not only does hinata not have a talent, we can presume that komaeda also knows hinata became ultimate despair along with the rest of them.

hinata has continually sought out komaeda’s company, even though komaeda knows himself to be worthless at best, lethal at worst. komaeda was willing to let him get closer, even though he knows how dangerous that is for hinata. he can’t help but let hinata try to know him.

isn’t he awful? to want what he knows he can’t have, even though that wanting has never done anything but cause pain? he’s really the lowest of the low, to love someone who destroyed the world, who makes him question the views that will allow him to do the only good thing he’s ever been able to do for it: to die for hope.

and yet, it’s a nod to how incredibly capable of love komaeda is that he’s still willing to reach out for it, no matter how many times it’s burned him in the past, and how much it hurts him in the present to want it. he understands more than anyone that his feelings can only result in disaster. reading komaeda as someone who can’t help but go on loving anyway makes his story hurt so much worse.

but, you miss a whole lot of that without an eye for komahina. seeing hinata as the eye of komaeda’s emotional hurricane (and keeping tabs on their connection accordingly) allows us to glimpse past the cracks in komaeda’s front. we see that komaeda’s worldview is less stable than he presents it as – hinata is where komaeda’s coping mechanisms, for better or worse, run up against a wall. that tends to be uncomfortable for a guy who’s just barely coping in the first place. then again, growth is supposed to be uncomfortable, isn’t it?

Part 3: The Future He Chooses

so, all of this considered, I think one of the most interesting ways you can flesh komaeda out post-canon is by asking how he’d find himself willing to accept love. whether that love is from hinata or the ultimates, whether it’s platonic or romantic, love is the thing that komaeda wants AND fears in equal measure more than anything. it’s the source of his self-loathing and his obsession with hope. it’s the reason he’s lived the way that he has for so long – lonely, and afraid of being anything but.

getting into a relationship wouldn’t solve komaeda’s problems for him, and that’s a good thing. it would force him to confront old ones, and probably create dozens of new issues for him, too. writing him through that makes for great character study!

hinata (or anyone else, for that matter) can’t love komaeda into loving himself, but he can give him a shoulder to cry on while he works through 22 years of fear and sorts through the wreckage of a worldview that’s long since stopped serving him. I don’t think his progress would be linear. but, I think that he could do it. komaeda learning to accept care is what his healing looks like.

(well. and physically recovering from cancer and dementia. but that’s neither here nor there!)

a post-canon komaeda learning to love narrative is also in line with the themes of DR2. hinata leads the survivors out of the neo world program because he makes the decision to choose his own future, creating a new version of “hope” for himself and his classmates. likewise, komaeda can make the decision to save himself. that is, if he trusts himself enough to actually touch and hold the thing that he’s never been able to stop reaching out for, anyway.

after all, hinata is lucky too. (and if it turns out he isn’t… y'all like angst fics, right?)

(shoutout to @cynopter for looking this over and confirming that I'm not spouting nonsense <33 thank you for reading my thesis of the week <33)

#ngl I'm a *teensy* bit nervous posting komaeda meta on here because you komaedologists really know your stuff!#if someone's done this already 1) oops and 2) I really hope I contributed to the existing convo at least a little #this essay was inspired by my friend's 3.5 hour long plot-heavy nagito playlist (chronological birth to death)#which I listened to in its entirety on a bus ride the other day #got me thinking wow. after everything. how on earth is he still capable of love? that's incredible. that's painful. fucking hell.#also if you read all of this I adore you! because what the hell I got so carried away #komahina #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #danganronpa 2

335 notes · View notes

lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging.

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim.

“My entire Christmas bonus.”

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh.

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this.

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work.

“Please, Steve.”

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours.

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process.

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away.

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today.

Javier P.

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office.

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with.

Every single woman, except you.

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner.

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo.

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed.

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk.

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her.

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs.

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails.

Red chipped paint.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway.

Probably.

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you?

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless.

Stupid fucking Peña.

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though.

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap.

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday.

Jesus.

You know way too much about him.

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails.

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette.

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night.

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower.

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt.

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes.

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected.

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses.

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours.

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt.

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach.

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation.

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie.

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier.

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up.

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift.

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things.

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away.

Javier traded for your name?

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting.

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again.

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident.

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend.

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people.

Javier’s office.

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand.

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him.

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult.

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab.

What a foolish question.

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home.

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall.

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow.

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out.

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends.

“So this is about the secret Santa.”

Of course he wouldn’t get it.

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him.

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first.

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms.

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide.

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye.

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night.

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.”

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go.

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you.

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole.

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth.

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts.

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt.

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment.

Jesus you’re soaked.

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him.

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here.

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock.

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission.

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you.

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor.

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk.

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time.

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning.

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk.

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while.

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin.

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss.

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait.

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier.

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting.

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

#pedrostoriesgift23 #lincolndjarin #taro-666 <3 #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

2K notes · View notes

femmehaljordan · 3 months ago

Note

Something I noticed about every fanfic that has the "Jason for some inexplicable reason decides to take pity on Tim after Damian replaces him as Robin" plot-line is that it always feels like it's less about developing a realistic relationship between the two and more about bashing Dick Grayson. For example, there always seems to be some moment where Jason will mention how Dick was super shitty to him for being Robin, but from what I've read with that storyline, the worst Dick comes across is kinda aloof towards what is essentially a random 13 year old (please note that I've only read Nightwing Year One and that one panel from the RHaTO Annual that shows that Alfred had Jason sleeping in Dick's room, so if there is a version I've missed please let me know)

Meanwhile Tim really was shitty towards Jason and his death but for some reason he gets a free pass.

!!!! THANK YOU

So I am actually a Dick and Jason pre-death relationship enthusiast so this might turn out to be mostly about them because as much as I hate Tim, I love talking about Dick and Jason more.

But it’s the classic case of those fans taking things that were mentioned in passing or were very minor and blowing them way out of proportion.

So pre-crisis Dick and Jason did not interact very much after Jason became Robin but before Jason was Robin some interesting things happened. Precrisis Jason was just blonde/red head (no it’s not the time to get into the semantics of that) Dick Grayson. You have to understand that to get it. He was an acrobat in a family called the flying Todd’s. His parents were actually named Joe and Trina. And they were killed by killer croc after they died we got this

DICK WANTED TO ADOPT JASON!!! HE DIDNT HATE HIM AT ALL. I don’t have a picture of the panel with me, but I have the issue it’s in but the first time they meet Dick says to Jason, that he reminds him of someone he knew a long time ago. (Obviously referring to himself.)

And Jason was originally going to form his own identity, which is where this suit comes from.

But then Bruce gets captured so he dies his hair and steals a robin suit. (TIM HATE SIDEBAR NOT EVEN TIMS ORIGIN IS ORIGINAL LMAO) but he still wasn’t going to become Robin

We have this panel where he’s wearing the original suit trying to come up with a name after he dyed his hair because he got in trouble with Bruce for stealing Dick’s suit because he’s not Robin.

And then Dick shows up and gives him Robin!! Tells him that he’s allowed to be Robin and that he’s gonna come up with a new identity with the Titans. Pre-crisis Bruce and Dick‘s separation was very amiable.

(Another sidebar DC give Dick a mole again)

The idea that Dick didn’t like Jason at first comes from post crisis. Specifically Batman the new adventures #416 (this one I’m pulling out because I don’t remember exact details)

You have to take everything in this with a grain of salt because it’s written by Starlin who wanted to make Jason look as bad as possible. He makes Jason break into a possible drug lab and has Dick save him and call him reckless. and that it’s also not a drug lab so that Jason was wrong. What’s interesting about this is we learn that Jason did not know that Dick was Nightwing because Dick’s name drops Bruce and Jason is genuinely concerned about a stranger knowing Bruce’s identity.

And then we get Dick and Bruce fighting about Jason.

(These might be out of order but you get it)

But even with this by the end of the issue, we get this scene

We’re dick and gives Jason his robin suit and his number (this page is so awful for so many reasons. Jason never grew into that Robin suit. And do you think he tried to call Dick before he went to Ethiopia?)

Then they go bust that drug ring together because it turns out Jason was right because even when Starlin was trying to make him look bad, he was so bad at it.

It ends with Bruce being smug as fuck like “I knew they would work it out” or some shit.

TLDR: Dick never hated Jason. He voluntarily gave him Robin both pre and post crisis, but post crisis Bruce gave it to him first without Dick‘s permission and Dick was upset with Bruce because of it, not Jason.

Anyway, back to Tim hating. I personally think it’s because there’s no other reason for Jason and Tim to relate to each other. And keep in mind ALL of the “replacement” stuff is blown way out of proportion. From every predecessor to successor. But these people only care about Tim. They use Jason and Dick as vessels to make Tim look as good as possible. I doubt any of them have read any pre Jason death comics let alone ones where Dick and Jason interact.

Or even modern comics set before he dies!! Because even at nightwing year one they bond and RHATO is probably the only comic they’ve read of Jason‘s. But again they have bonding moments in new 52!! Not as many because it’s new 52 but there are a few.

Anyway, my point is those Tim stans are in a bad game of telephone because they don’t actually read comics.

(Sorry I just got so fucking excited to talk about Dick and Jason)

#jason todd #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #anti tim drake #robin jason todd #pre crisis #post crisis #Batman #batfamily #batfam

156 notes · View notes

surely-sims · 8 months ago

Text

Moving Forward - End of 2024 Plans

Hello! 👋

I wanted to start this off by and foremost saying thank you so much for the support on the recent Poppy set release. I haven’t seen the community having that much fun with CC in a while and it really means the world to me. 🧡

I’ll try to keep this short and to the point. It’s not bad news, just different.

I've been unemployed for over a year now. August 2023 I finished off my last gig in Animation, and the industry has since taken a giant dive into the toilet. Greenlights are very rare and jobs are even rarer. Boo hoo so sad but what does that mean for CC? Last year I put together a massive game of Clue for Simblreen. I didn’t sleep for 48 hours straight. For Shrimpmas the story was very similar but somehow even worse. And just to put it into optics, I recently spent 3 weeks making the Poppy CAS set. Hours and hours dedicated to getting the meshes and the swatches perfect- and after all the love, all the fantastic amazing lookbooks- I made $7. (And I’m very grateful to those new patrons, and everyone that took the time to play with it, believe me I am! I just want you to understand the kind of numbers we’re working with here.) I don't make a lot of money doing this, I really don't.

TLDR; This has been a very roundabout way to say I’m going to be scaling back this year.

For the rest of the year, I'm going to commit to making things that make me happy, and take a break from things I stress over for absolutely no reason. Simblreen will still be happening, but only for the second weekend, and I’m going to be cutting a lot of stuff I was making for it. Because when I sat down and thought about it, I wasn't making it because I wanted to, I was making it because I felt I had to. In the same vein, as of right now, Shrimpmas is cancelled this year. I’m really sorry about this one. I know it’s a ton of fun, but instead I’ll be focusing on finishing up two large sets and getting them to you in November and December.

I hate going on about this stuff, but I wanted to be clear where I’m at as a creator. Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you soon. 💗

xo, Anne

#update #copy and pasted from my patreon

228 notes · View notes

jibberjibbsart · 9 months ago

Text

I love that I haven’t even finished Power Hour (the next part is coming! TLDR I adopted a cat and she’s taking up a lot of my time! She’s a cutie) but I already have an idea for a shorter comic.

Mabel sees the tension between Dean and Cas and she wants to play matchmaker and so she finds a flower that can be brewed into a tea and it will “reveal that which is hidden”. She thinks this means Dean and Cas will come clean about their feelings. She brews the tea and gives it to both of them, except Cas doesn’t drink it. “Too many molecules, but I appreciate the gesture.” Mabel isn’t sure what this means for the spell, but she hopes it works!

The next day Dean wakes up and pats Sam on the arm… and in his head he hears Sam’s voice “Jesus he stinks, hope he’s headed for the shower.” Dean is confused but he calls Sam a bitch and thinks nothing of it. Sam is also confused. Later Dean runs into Steven fixing up his car. Dean is happy to help and as he brushes against Steven’s shoulder he hears Steven’s voice this time “I’m so embarrassed, my dad lived in his van for how many years and I don’t know anything about cars. I can’t let Dean know that.” Dean flinches. Okay now it’s weird. He goes to Luz and Amity. He asks them if they can detect spells/curses/hexes. Neither of them are proficient in oracle magic but they can try. Amity grabs Dean’s hand and he hears “Maybe if he didn’t fight so many witches in the past he wouldn’t need to be worried about getting cursed.” She tells him she can’t detect anything.

Finally he’s back at his hotel and Cas is there reading a book. Cas asks him if everything is okay and Dean doesn’t reveal anything, just flops down onto the bed and sighs dramatically. Then Dean feels Cas’s reassuring hand on his back. Then he hears his voice “I hate seeing Dean like this, I wish there were a way to lift his spirits. He has a beautiful smile.” Dean’s eyes snap open and he looks at Cas wide eyed. Cas does his little head tilt and asks if everything’s okay. Dean just nods.

Yes this is based off of Cherry Magic, I just watched it and became obsessed with it

#I just think Dean hearing Cas’s thoughts would be so validating #cas hearing Dean’s thoughts would just be sad LMAO #Dean is just self deprecating all the time #destiel #power hour #supernatural #spn #the owl house #steven universe #gravity falls #au #crossover #cherry magic

283 notes · View notes

giveafike · 4 months ago

Note

So uhm.. what are the chances of a follow up of "is it new years yet?" 👀👀

TLDR: part 2 to is it new years yet? recc to read that FIRST before reading this :)

Word count + info: 4.8k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Cussing.

Azzie Notes ✚: happy valentines day, my loves! So cute to build onto a seasonal special with ANOTHER seasonal special. Hope this lives up to the first part, anon! Loosely reminds me of Valentine by Laufey. Whether you're spending today alone, with family, with friends or with loved ones (or something in between all that) spend it loving the little bits and pieces of the day!

Taglist: thank u for ur support! if u wanna join the taglist, head on over here

🌙 - @le-moon-nade @anneioe @maya1the-bee @miss-d-d @hannahbanannax @mfcvbs @egevtntn @the-aizzlee @hello-missunperfect-things @joeybisbootiful @2manytabsopen 🌕 - @starlitf0x

blinked & suddenly, I had a valentine - B.T.S

————————————————————————

You chew your lip, scrolling through your camera roll for a photo that looks effortless but nonchalant. Something casual, mellow, like you didn’t spend way too long overthinking it. Which, obviously, you did. You were back in Florida, so you knew you would add a location tag - you were in a trendy little café downtown, where you and your friends were celebrating an early Galentine’s.

The air smells like espresso and overpriced pastries, your table cluttered with half-eaten croissants and empty mimosa glasses. Laughter and chaotic debate fill the space, but your focus is elsewhere. Specifically, on your phone. And, more specifically, on him.

You and Ben have been texting after New Year's Eve, or well, had been texting. At first, it was easy; inside jokes, dumb memes, conversations that left butterflies in the pit of your stomach and a dumb smile on your face, the kind of late-night conversations that left you curled up and eager for more. But then his tour picked up, college welcomed you back with a smack in the face that hit you like a truck, and the messages became… sparse. Shorter. Drier. Less fun. Now, checking in feels less like catching up and more like pestering. You already know how he’s doing, his last match was all over your feed. But that’s not the same, and you hate that it matters so much. You missed the way he’d send you random voice notes mid-practice or from his car drives, his voice slightly breathless as he joked about being worked to death. Or the way he’d text you after posting a clip of his sessions, asking if you’d seen his “epic comeback” (his words, not yours).

But lately? Crickets. You knew he was back here, in Florida, but you couldn't bring yourself to reach out, something about it felt like begging, especially during a week like Valentine's week.

You sigh, finally settling on a photo of your latte, some attempt at a heart in the foam that looks more like a deflated kidney. Whatever. You add a location tag and caption: Nothing says love like overpriced coffee and talking shit with your best friends <3.

Before you can second-guess it, you post. Your phone barely touches the table before you get side-eyed.

“Alright, who’s got you checking your phone like you’re waiting on exam results?”

You scoff, reaching for a croissant. “No one.”

A pointed silence follows. “So you’re just emotionally invested in your Instagram engagement now?”

Another voice chippers in. “Is it Ben?”

Your dramatic eye-roll gives you away immediately. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh my God, he ghosted you.”

You nearly choke. “He did not! We’ve just… been busy.”

“So he part-time ghosted you,” she corrects.

“He’s on tour, I’m drowning in school, it’s not that deep, we're busy people,” you argue, but even you don’t sound convinced.

“Right. And that’s why you’ve been on your phone all morning like a middle-aged woman tracking her kid’s live location?”

You groan, dropping your head onto the table. “I hate you both.”

“No, you miss him,” Liv singsongs, and you blindly throw a sugar packet at her.

Then, your phone buzzes.

You glance at the screen, expecting a notification from your emails. But it’s from Instagram already.

Your phone vibrates, but you ignore it. Then another buzz. The kind that isn’t a text, but an Instagram notification. You glance, just for a second.

Ben Shelton liked your story.

Your stomach does a stupid little flip. Because of course he saw it. Of course he engaged with it just enough to let you know he saw it, but not enough to actually text.

You lock your phone and flip it over.

“Wow...You put your phone face-down. That’s serious.”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I’m putting it on Do Not Disturb because I’m not doing this today.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

And honestly? It lasts longer than you expect.

Shopping and side-errands keep you busy. There’s a chaotic half-hour where you all try on the dumbest Valentine-themed products and clothes you can find, one of your friends strutting out of a dressing room in the ugliest fur coat imaginable, another trying to convince everyone that this is the year they finally pull off red leather pants. You nearly cry-laugh in the middle of the store.

By the time you sit down for a late lunch-early dinner with the rest of your friends after their classes and shifts, the energy is still high. Pasta is being passed around, drinks are clinking, and someone is dramatically rehashing a dating horror story from last semester. Your phone stays buried in your bag.

Until-

“You know, you haven’t checked your phone in, like, hours.”

You blink. “Yeah? And?”

“And... I think you should.”

There’s a sudden hush at the table, eyes darting expectingly. It’s suspicious as hell.

You hesitate, but finally, dig your phone out. You tap the screen, unlocking it. A flood of notifications. Instagram likes, a missed call from your mom, a “lmk if you’re alive” text from your uni group chat. And then-

A text from him. Sent hours ago.

Ben: Crazy Galentine’s in FL? Bold choice. You holding up without me?

Your stomach flips. Again. You hate that it keeps doing that.

Someone is already trying to peek over your shoulder. “Oh my God. I knew it!”

You angle your phone away. “Mind your business.”

“So what’s he saying?”

“You’re blushing!!”

You close your eyes. Inhale, exhale, then start typing.

You: Holding up just fine, thanks. But this croissant’s got more personality than you’ve shown in weeks.

His reply is instant.

Ben: Ouch. Guess I’ll have to step up my game. What are you doing for the actual Valentine’s Day?

Your friends let out a scream so high-pitched that the next table turns to stare. You have to lean over to clamp a hand over her mouth. The reactions are so grandeur, you’d think they just got proposed to over text.

“HE’S ASKING YOU OUT!”

Your brain short-circuits. “Or, hear me out now, he’s just making conversation.”

Your phone gets snatched from your hands before you can hesitate.

“Nope. Not letting you overthink this.” She types something and tosses it back.

“What the fuck-”

You: Why? You got plans for me?

Your stomach knots as you watch the typing bubble pop up. Then disappear. Then pop up again. It does this for a few beats.

Ben: Maybe I do. You still free for me?

The smiles around the table are like you won the lottery itself, while you're being shaken and cheered around.

And you? You’re so fucking done for. The colour drains out of your face, mouth agape. Your head is in your hands. Gripping your hair at the roots. You’re barely processing the conversation around you, the clinking glasses, the exaggerated cheers.

“She’s frozen. She’s actually in shock.”

“This is so big. Like, national emergency big. Potential WAG in the making right now"

“She’s been single on Valentine’s Day since God knows when, so yeah, this is huge.”

You groan, tilting your head back. “Stop! You guys are so dramatic.”

“We’re just invested.”

You peek at your phone again, heart doing that stupid fucking thing where it stutters in your chest. The text stares back at you.

Ben: Maybe I do. You still free for me?

You exhale, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. You should probably answer. Like a normal person. But your brain is running on pure static.

What do you even say?

Yeah, totally free to publicly humiliate myself on a date?

Sorry, I can’t, I’m busy hyperventilating into my hands?

No. You need to be cool. Nonchalant. Demure.

You tap out a reply.

You: Yes. I’ll text you later, yeah?

It sends. And immediately, the second-guessing starts. Does that sound uninterested? Dismissive? Did you just ruin everything?

Your phone vibrates again.

Ben: Ye, of course. Don’t wanna interrupt your Galentine’s 👯

Another one, almost instantly:

Ben: Text me when you get home

Your face is so hot it could combust. You shove your phone down onto the table with a clatter. “Okay. Done. It’s over.”

But the excitement around you only amplifies.

“You have to reply later.”

“Obviously.” You scoff, playing it off.

“Wait.” A pause. “What are you wearing?”

The question lands like a grenade in your brain.

Oh. Fuck.

You have nothing. Nothing.

The horror must be evident on your face because gasps are let out. “Oh my God. She doesn’t have an outfit.”

The realisation spreads like wildfire.

“You cannot pull up in one of your boring sweaters.”

“Or those beat up shoes you refuse to throw out.”

“We need a game plan.”

And before you know it, someone is yanking out their phone, another is calling out malls, checking store hours.

“There is one tiny mall still open, but we have, like, an hour before they close. We have to go. Now.”

It’s ridiculous. It’s unnecessary. It’s cutting it so fucking close. But here you were dragged to the car while the rest of your table closed off dinner and paid the tabs.

"Get in, loser. We're going shopping."

"Did you just-"

"Yes, I Mean Girls-ed you. Get in! You're not driving, you drank and well last time you drove was New Year-"

"Ok no need to reopen old wounds." You scowl.

You barely have time to process before you’re shoved into the passenger seat, another friend slamming the back door shut behind them. The car peels out of the parking lot like you’re on the run from the law, not just sprinting to find a decent date outfit before the mall locks its doors.

"This is absolutely unhinged," you mutter, gripping the handle as your friend takes a sharp turn.

"You waited years for this. If you think I’m letting you pull up in some tragic little sweater and jeans combo, you’re out of your mind."

“I have good sweaters!"

"No. You do not."

The drive is a chaotic mess of bad playlist choices and a very heated discussion about what vibe you should be going for. Sexy-but-classy? Effortlessly cool? Girl-next-door-but-hot?

Your other friend, scrolling furiously, holds up a photo of some influencer in a red dress. "This."

You glance. "I am not wearing that."

"It’s literally Valentine’s Day, it’s themed-"

"I don’t care if it’s Cupid-approved, I am not rolling up looking like a walking heart emoji."

"Fine. What about-"

"Not the fucking leather pants, either."

Your friend groans, tossing their phone onto their lap. "You’re the worst."

The mall comes into view just as the GPS announces, "Your destination will be closing in 45 minutes."

"Oh, we have to haul ass."

And haul ass, you do.

The second you step into the store, your friend takes immediate command. "You- go find shoes. You- see if they have any decent dresses. You- well, just…try not to panic."

"Very helpful, thanks," you deadpan.

"You're welcome!"

The next thirty minutes are a blur of colour, unenthusiastic employees, fabric, and absolute mayhem. It feels like a Disney movie. You’re shoved into a dressing room with a handful of outfits, half of which are so out of your comfort zone that you genuinely wonder if your friends are trying to prank you.

One friend flings open the curtain. "Show us!"

"No."

A chorus of complaints erupts.

"Come on."

"This is a team effort."

You groan, reluctantly stepping out. "I look stupid."

Your friend gasps. "You look hot."

Another nods in approval. "Yeah, Ben is gonna die."

You cross your arms, looking in the mirror, smoothing over the dress. "I don’t know…"

"Trust me. When he sees you? He’s done for."

You turn back to the mirror. Okay… Maybe it’s not the worst. Maybe…you actually like it.

Maybe…this is real. Maybe it had just been a while since you last wore a dress, got dolled up for a date. And maybe, for the first time, you’re kind of excited for what happens next.

When you finally make it home, you’re wrecked. The shopping bags dig into your wrists, your feet ache, and the only thing standing between you and a glorious face-plant into your bed is the sheer force of will it takes to dump everything onto your chair instead of the floor.

You’re halfway to unconsciousness, sprawled out, limbs all over the place, when your phone buzzes.

u better text ben before u pass out lol

You groan into your pillow.

Your brain is already half-asleep, but fine. You’ll send a quick text, something chill, something casual.

You roll onto your side, grab your phone, and unlock it, squinting at the screen through the exhaustion. Ben’s last text is still sitting there, waiting for a reply.

Ben: Text me when you get home

You exhale, tapping the message.

You: I'm home now

Except. That’s not what happens.

Because your finger slips.

And instead of typing, you misfire straight into calling him. Your heart drops.

“Oh, fuck-”

You try to hit end, but it’s too late. The call screen pops up. His name. The dial tone. Your brain malfunctions.

And then-

Click.

"Hello?"

You black out. Not really. But it feels like it.

There’s a pause, and then Ben lets out a confused laugh. "Uh… you good?"

"I-" You bolt upright like that somehow helps. "That wasn’t on purpose."

He snickers. "Yeah, no kidding. You butt-dial me or something?"

"No!" You wince. "I mean- well, kind of. I was trying to text you, but I misclicked, and now-" You groan, rubbing your face. "Now we’re talking, I guess."

"Well, I'm not complaining." His voice is warm, amused. "But I gotta admit, didn't expect to hear from you this soon."

Your stomach flips. "Yeah, well, neither did I."

There’s a slight pause. Not awkward, just… there. A beat of something unspoken. Ben exhales. "So. Crazy Galentine’s, huh? You still survivin'?"

"Barely." You slump back against your pillows. "You know how dangerous last-minute shopping can get. I think I saw my life flash before my eyes 20 minutes in."

"Tragic way to go."

"I know." You grin. "How about you? Survive your Florida homecoming after your first two tournaments?"

"Hangin' in there." He sounds a little distracted, then there’s a muffled thud, like he’s just flopped onto a bed. "Was starting to think I scared you off."

"What?" Your brows furrow. "Why would you think that?"

"I don’t know, you kinda went ghost on me for a bit. Thought maybe you were over it."

Your pulse stutters. "Over what?"

Ben pauses. "You tell me."

And there it is.

That thing. The thing that’s been sitting between you for weeks.

You chew your lip, shifting slightly. "I wasn’t over anything. I just… didn’t wanna bug you."

"Bug me?" He scoffs. "You think I don't wanna hear from you?"

"You were busy! I saw all the interviews and clips. I figured, I don’t know-" You exhale. "I didn’t wanna be that person."

"What person?"

"The one forcing a conversation when the other person clearly has a million other things going on."

There’s a beat of silence. Then Ben lets out a soft laugh, one of those exasperated, are you serious? kind of laughs. "You’re an idiot, man."

"Excuse me?"

"You think I wouldn’t make time for you?" His voice is lower now, softer. "Come on. We both know that’s bullshit."

You swallow. "I-"

"I like talking to you." The words are simple. Easy. "And if I’ve been dry lately, it’s not ‘cause I don’t want to. It’s ‘cause I suck at this. The whole, like… keeping up with someone while traveling thing. But I don’t want you thinking I don’t care."

Your chest does something stupid. Tightens. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

You let that sit for a second.

And then, because your brain is the way it is, you mutter, "Still think the croissant had more personality than you these last few weeks."

Ben laughs, this full, real laugh that makes your face heat. "Alright, alright, I deserved that one."

"You did."

"Guess I’ll have to make it up to you, huh?"

Your stomach flips. "Guess so."

There’s a pause, and you can hear his smirk through the phone. "So. What are you wearing for our date?"

"Woah... That’s a very bold question, Benjamin."

He chuckles, you can hear the smile in his voice. "Just trying to see if I'll be matchin' or not."

"I assume you're not planning on wearing the same dress as me, so don't worry," you say quickly. "And I’m not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Because you’ll just have to wait and see."

He groans dramatically. "Ugh, torture."

You laugh. "You’ll live."

"Debatable."

There’s another pause. A softer one. "You gonna sleep soon?" he asks.

"I should," you admit. "But this is nice."

Ben hums. "Yeah. It is."

Your eyelids feel heavy now, exhaustion creeping back in. You sink deeper into your blankets. "Okay. I’m really hanging up this time."

"Sure you are."

"Ben."

"Alright, alright. Sleep tight, Valentine."

You barely process the words before he hangs up. You’re left staring at your screen, warmth curling in your chest, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to sleep after that.

Somehow you manage to still your beating heart and fluttering stomach. The next day starts with a few good luck messages from your friends.

Hope you’re ready for your date, miss WAG Valentine’s girl 😏

Don’t overthink it. Just have fun. And don’t let him see you panic

If you cancel, I swear to God, I will show up at your house and force you out myself

You roll your eyes but smile. Then, the rest of the day is eerily quiet. For the first time in weeks, you’re alone. No bustling friend group, no plans. Just you, your apartment, and a long list of things you should be doing.

Laundry, dishes, some half-assed studying and catch up coursework. You sit at your desk, trying to focus, but your brain keeps drifting, back to last night, back to Ben’s voice in your ear, low and easy. You replay pieces of the conversation without meaning to.

And then-

Buzz.

Ben: Yo, what’s your address?

Your stomach jolts. You sit up straighter, rereading it twice, as if the words might suddenly change.

Ben: Don’t worry, not pulling up unannounced. Just need it for later.

You exhale, shaking your head as you type it out.

You: You got a time for me, or is this a surprise too?

Ben: 7

You glance at the clock. It’s barely noon.

You: Copy that. See you then.

Ben: Looking forward to it.

You lock your phone and let out a slow breath.

That gives you hours. Yet, somehow, after a good nap, those hours fly. By the time you start getting ready, the nerves settle in fast. Makeup first. Then hair. The whole process feels foreign, like muscle memory you haven’t used in forever.

And then, the dress. You slip it on carefully, smoothing it down, adjusting where needed. Then, the shoes.When you finally step back and look at yourself in the mirror, you freeze.

For the first time in so long, you actually got up for something. You spent years busying yourself and rejecting any chance of romance, nothing was really worth it - not worth stressing yourself over a sleezy "situationship", but now it sinks in. You actually put in the effort. And looking at yourself now, standing there, hair done, makeup set, dress hugging your figure. You almost don’t recognize yourself, it's almost weird.

Your stomach flutters.

Excitement. Nerves. Anticipation.

And then,

Ding-dong.

Your breath catches.

You hesitate for only a second before making your way to the door. A final deep breath, then you open it.

And there he is.

Ben stands there in a crisp shirt, nice pants, clean. But your eyes barely register the fit because in his hands,

Roses.

Bright, fresh, wrapped neatly.His gaze flicks over you, and something in his expression shifts. His lips part slightly, but for a moment, he doesn’t speak. Just takes you in.

"Wow." His voice is softer than usual. "You look… damn."

And witht that, it all feels worth it, all perfect. Your face heats. "Shut up."

"No, seriously." He grins, holding the flowers out. "These might be pretty, but you definitely win."

You bite your lip, taking them carefully. "Smooth."

“You clean up nice too y'know,” you tease, hoping your voice doesn’t betray how jittery you feel.

He smirks. “I should’ve brought my A-game.”

“This isn’t your A-game?” you quip, reaching for the flowers, setting them down to the side.

“Nah, this is like… my B+. I had to hold back. Didn’t want to peak too early.”

You shake your head, biting back a laugh. “So,” you start, turning back to him. “What’s the plan? We’re not exactly in a walk-in-and-blend-in situation.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, grinning. “Yeah, I figured unless you wanted to spend the night dodging cameras, we’d keep it private. So, you trust me?”

You arch a brow. “That depends. Are you kidnapping me?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a first date if I was,” he says, leading you outside. “Though, technically, our first date was you hitting my car.”

“That was not a date.”

“I met you. I got your number. We flirted.” He shrugs. “Sounds like a meet-cute to me.”

You roll your eyes but your smitten smile betrays you. “So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He winks. "You ready?"

You glance back at your apartment, nerves buzzing under your skin. Then, you look back at him, at the way he’s standing there, all easy and comfortable like this isn’t the first real date you two have ever had, nor the only date you have planned. He seems so confident, sincere and honest, like this was meant to happen. He holds out a hand for you, no pressure, just a simple invite. You take it, holding his large, warm hand in yours.

Fifteen minutes later, you do see. And it’s… kind of perfect.

Ben pulls up to a quiet, tucked-away spot by the water. The sky is painted in soft purples and blues, the last remnants of daylight fading. There’s a blanket in the trunk, takeout in a bag, and music playing softly from his phone.

“You planned a picnic?” You raise a brow, surprised.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Figured you wouldn’t want to spend the whole night inside, but also didn’t want to spend it dodging people with iPhones.”

You glance up at him, then at the setup. “This is actually… really sweet.”

Ben smirks. “What, thought I’d just take you to a drive-thru and call it a night?”

“I mean, I did hit your car. Thought you might hold a grudge.”

“Oh, I do,” he says, opening the basket and setting up. “But I’m playing the long game.”

You both settle onto the blanket, the scent of warm food filling the air. The conversation is easy, mostly teasing at first. He asks about your classes, your friends, you ask about his training, and somehow you end up talking about the first time you met.

“I still don’t know how you managed to hit a parked car,” Ben says, shaking his head.

“It was a tight spot, let it goooo"

“Should've hit the Tesla, in my opinion.”

“Okay, well, maybe I was distracted.”

“By what? Your own bad driving?”

You swat at him, laughing. “By trying to keep the car calm, genius.”

Ben grins, leaning back on his elbows. “And yet, here we are.”

Here you are. Sitting next to him, by the water, the air warm and balmy, the food mostly gone, but the conversation still going. It feels like you both have been waiting for this. And now that it’s here, neither of you is in a rush to leave. You lean back on your hands, looking up at the sky. The stars are sharp tonight, scattered like someone spilled glitter across the darkness. It feels peaceful, so different from how you felt earlier, standing in front of your mirror, stomach twisting with nerves. Now, it’s easy, natural.

Ben watches you for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. “You know, I did want to text you more.”

His voice is softer now, a little more honest. You glance over, catching the way his brows pull together slightly, like he’s been thinking about this for a while. “Yeah?” you ask. “Why didn’t you?”

He exhales, looking up at the starry sky before answering. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to do the half-assed, ‘hey, wyd’ texts when I was exhausted or distracted. I didn’t want it to feel like… an obligation. But I don’t know. I think I got in my own head. Like, I’d think about it, but then I’d talk myself out of it. Tell myself you were busy, or I was busy, or-”

“That it was too late,” you finish for him. You nod slowly as you meet his eyes. “I get that, I think I did the same thing.”

“I also didn’t want to, like…” He pauses. “I don’t know. Screw this up before it even started.”

You tilt your head. “And what is ‘this,’ exactly?”

Ben meets your gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I was hoping we’d figure that out.”

Your heart does that annoying little flip again, but you play it cool. “Well, if it’s anything like your tennis game, I expect a lot of effort.”

Ben scoffs. “You wound me.”

You smirk, bumping your knee against his. “We’ll see.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. It’s strange, really, how something so simple, just reaching out, had felt so difficult before. But now, sitting here next to him, it seems ridiculous that either of you hesitated at all.

You tilt your head, studying him. “Did you ever think I wasn’t interested?”

Ben’s lips press together in thought. “No… I mean, I hoped that wasn’t the case. But I also knew you weren’t just gonna sit around waiting for me to finally get my shit together.”

You smile. “Well, you got it together eventually.”

“I did,” he says, nudging your foot lightly with his. “And I’d like some credit for that, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes, but before you can say anything else, something streaks across the sky.

Your breath catches. “Oh my go-”

Ben follows your gaze, and for a second, neither of you says anything as you watch the shooting star burn its path across the night before disappearing into the dark.

Your heart is still racing when you turn back to him. “That was my first one.”

“Ever?”

You nod. “I always missed them before. I’d be looking the wrong way, or I’d blink, or someone would swear they saw one, but I never did.”

He grins. “Guess you got lucky.”

You glance back up, like you’re trying to will another one to appear, but the sky is still. When you look at Ben again, he’s already looking at you.

“I think I already was,” you say, quieter now.

His expression changes just slightly, his amusement giving way to something softer. The space between you doesn’t feel quite as wide anymore. His gaze dropping briefly to your lips before flicking back up. But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t do anything except sit there, watching you, waiting. And maybe it’s because of the way your stomach feels light, or the way the night feels infinite, or because you’ve both spent too much time holding back, but this time, you close the space, taking the leap, the step forward. Maybe, you did miss him, maybe Cupid finally struck - whatever excuse it was, nothing you could say or do would convey as much as you felt other than his lips on yours.

It’s not rushed, not some grand, sweeping moment. It’s slow, hesitant, like making sure this is real. Like neither of you want to mess it up. Ben exhales softly against your lips, his fingers twitching like he’s deciding what to do with them before settling lightly against your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheek in the faintest touch, before holding your face. The kiss deepens just slightly, his nose bumping against yours, his other hand resting warm against your knee, holding you as though he was scared you might fade right then and there.

And then, just as naturally, you both pull back. Not far. Just enough to breathe.

You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his smile small, almost like he’s trying to hold it back.

“What?” you whisper.

Ben shakes his head, his gummy smile wide and bright. “I... I'm just so happy, so glad we're here.”

Something about the way he says it, so simple but so honest, makes your throat feel tight. You barely resist the urge to look away. Instead, you huff out a soft, shaky breath, trying to mask how much that made your chest ache in the best way. “Yeah. Me too.”

His smile is small but real, and for a second, neither of you move. The warmth of his fingers still lingers against your jaw, your wrist. Then, finally, you lean back, the moment settling between you like something fragile but steady.

You think you’re gonna like seeing more lucky shooting stars.

#azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

114 notes · View notes