#she’s very invested if you couldn’t tell
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hi hello!! I love you work so much! ❤️
I also recognized the rug in your pfp, i think i have the same one! Are you by chance also the person on spotify with a regulus black classical music playlist that has a photo with the same rug and a black cat? If not very cool coincidence! Marauders fans + beautiful rug + black kitty
my pfp is not my photo hahaha i got it off pinterest (so that is not me on spotify sry) but i do also have a rug just like this one…so maybe i should take a photo of my own cats on it instead of stealing someone else’s
i now feel the need to show some appreciation for my darlings :’)
#aren’t they just the cutest#that was me giving her lessons on wolfstar lore#she’s very invested if you couldn’t tell
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My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.
She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.
Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.
Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.
Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’
That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.
The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.
Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.
Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.
I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.
I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.
—as told to Sean Gregory
#Tori Bowie#Black Lives Matter#Black Mothers Health#Black Maternal Health#Allyson Felix: Tori Bowie Can't Die In Vain#Black Lives of Children Matter#Black Health Matters
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[7:09 pm]
(cw: parents!au)
Every parent knew what silence meant. Silence meant some huge mess was being made, someone was hiding, being mischievous, general mayhem being had. This was especially true in your home with your daughter and 3 cats. It was never this quiet in your house with the four—five troublemakers in your house. It couldn’t be the main troublemaker because he was sitting right next to you, fully invested in a a reality tv show.
“Jaemin, listen,” You said quietly while you muted the tv.
He looked at you quizzically, “I don’t hear anything… what could she be doing now?”
“It’s not her nap time yet, I have a very bad feeling about this,” you replied nervously.
Your daughter had a sweet face, she was nice and friendly in public. She always waved at strangers with a huge smile on her face. She knew to stay by your side when she wasn’t sitting in a shopping cart. She very rarely threw tantrums, a perfect little angel. People had even told you so.
In the comfort of your home on the other hand, she was hyperactive and loud. She wreaked havoc on the daily. And the cats were either right her side or far, far away from her. There was no in between. When the cats decided she was being too much your daughter would try to climb their scratching posts to reach them or pull on their tails. The poor animals. When they decided to help her the house was loud, something got destroyed, scratched, or simply broken.
The last time the 4 of them had joined forces you needed to buy a new bookshelf for the living room with all new frames for the pictures that filled up some empty spaces on the shelves.
“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes,” Jaemin offered. You rolled your eyes but complied. Softly hitting your fist against the palm of your hand. One paper and one rock, you lost.
“Wish me luck please, and have your credit card ready to shop. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna be sick,” you muttered, standing from the couch and walking toward your daughter’s room, but not without pouting and sending pleasing looks to your husband.
You tiptoed quietly to her open door and took a peek inside. Oh good, she was playing with her baby dolls. Wait, since when were they covered in fur?
You ran back to the living room whisper yelling, “Honey, you have to come see what your daughter is doing!”
Jaemin tilted his head back and shut his eyes, “why is she only my daughter when she’s being naughty?”
“It’s not even that bad, no new furniture. Just come see!” You tugged on his arm until he was up and quietly sneaking behind you.
You both peeked into the open door and watched as your daughter swaddled up one of the cats, Luke. And he liked it! He was purring and nuzzling into your daughters small and unusually gentle hands. “Ok baby! It’s time for a nap!” She told the cat before placing him in her toy bassinet. The poor doll who it belonged to could be seen face down under her bed.
“And for the other baby, it’s lunch! Time for your bottle,” she told Luna, picking up the cat and holding her like a newborn while holding a toy bottle to the cat’s mouth. And poor Lucy was sitting on a doll bed with a bonnet tied below her chin, but she looked unbothered.
“I think the cats… like it?” Jaemin whispered in confusion.
You looked at him, “weirdly enough, I think they do too.”
You and Jaemin continued to watch the four of them play and interact. They were all calm and playing happily, until, she turned and caught sight of you.
She bounded over to you and jumped into your arms, knocking the wind out of you.
“I’m practicing!” She smiled brightly.
“What are you practicing for, baby?” You asked her, moving some hair out of her face.
“Daddy said he’s going to get me a baby brother! So I have to practice being a good big sister!” She smiled, stating it like it was obvious.
Your fave dropped, looking at Jaemin with a raised eyebrow, “did your dad say that? That’s news to me. What else did he tell you, baby?”
Jaemin’s face dropped and your daughter began spilling all their secrets. How he always bought her candy before ballet, they sometimes snuck some ice cream together after you were asleep, Jaemin put sugar in her cereal, and how he promised her new toys if she didn’t mention anything about a new sibling. “Do I still get my toys daddy?”
“Uh! No! She would not be getting any new toys!”Jaemin yelled in his mind.
“You can ask daddy later, he’s about to be in very big trouble.”
#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct timestamps#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#jaemin fluff#jaemin imagines#jaemin x reader#jaemin blurbs#jaemin drabbles
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Found family is such a huge theme in the Apothecary Diaries.
You have Luomen, raising Maomo from a young age, despite her being biologically his grandniece, but raising her anyway.
You have the Madame of the Verdigris House, who is Maomao’s maternal grandmother, but never tells her. She takes care of Maomao, helps raise her in the brothel the best she can, but tries not to show how fond she is of her.
You have Meimei, Joka, & Pairin, three famous courtesans at the Verdigris House who not only physically raised Maomao in her infancy (an imperfect process, as to be expected when one tries to collectively raise a baby in a brothel), but also breastfed her. These women staunchly refer to themselves as Maomao’s sisters, despite having been old enough to be her parents themselves.
You have Gyokuyou, who doesn’t have a good relationship with her own family, and actively distrusts them. She invests wholly in the women she instates as her ladies-in-waiting, treating them, instead, as her family, and as the only people she truly trusts. It’s for this reason that she asks for Maomao to return to her service over and over: because she trusts her, she loves her as a member of her own household. She shows defiance and even possessiveness when Jinshi’s involvement keeps Maomao from being her lady-in-waiting permanently, as truly trustworthy people are so hard to find, in her world.
You have Lakan, who adopted his nephew Lahan when Lahan’s own family rejected his genius and his potential for growth. Lakan, in general, tends to take in orphans and young children into his estate as servants, when he can tell they have specific talents that would be wasted when they grew older. One of his hobbies is fostering the talents of these strays he takes into his employ. Even if his motives are grey, he still drastically changes their lives for the better.
You have Chou-u, who Maomao indirectly adopted as her own (even though, age-wise, he’s closer to a brother figure for her). Since he’s lost his memories, Maomao is all he knows as a parental figure. She let him live with her, she tried teaching him medicine like Luomen did for her (even though it didn’t resonate with him). And when Maomao spends long stints away from the pleasure district, Chou-u experiences acute separation anxiety, though it slowly improves over time.
You have Ah-Duo, who acted as a surrogate mother to Lishu for both of Lishu’s tenures in the rear palace. Ah-Duo couldn’t have a normal relationship with her own child (Jinshi), so she doted on Lishu instead. This was a truly symbiotic relationship for them, as Lishu, for the longest time, had very few people she could trust or rely on as a friend when she was a consort.
And these are just the relationships I can think of at the moment!! The story has so many bonds like this. It’s one of my absolute favorite aspects of the series, and one that I think Natsu Hyuuga handles incredibly well.
#the apothecary diaries#kusuriya no hitorigoto#apothecary diaries spoilers#maomao#jinshi#knh#light novel spoilers#knh spoilers#kusuriya no hitorigoto spoilers#knh light novel#ah duo#luomen#gyokuyou#lishu#chou-u#lakan#lahan#meimei#pairin#joka#the verdigris house#lady lishu#lady ah duo#mao mao#jinmao#neo queen serenity’s posts
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basement noise * fem!driver
logan starts to feel a little left out
pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver
notes: hey surpRISE AND EARLY UPDATE WAHOOOO i'm trying to finish up her 2023 year before i start moving onto her 2024 season <3
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
logan stares at the unanswered text message in their group chat, clicking his tongue as he glances at the time at the corner of his phone screen. it’s been an hour since he sent his text message.
he’s not saying his friends are ignoring him, but it is slowly starting to seem that way. his call time to the paddocks isn’t as early as theirs and that’s why they’ve arrived way before him.
he sighs. since the season had begun, it hasn’t been easy to integrate himself into the grid unlike his two other friends. oscar’s gotten along with lando and is doing great with his team. meanwhile she’s done exceptionally well, and even if she wasn’t, max and some of the older drivers seem to have taken quite the liking to her.
which shouldn’t be all that surprising to him. she had already found herself a new group of friends even before the season had started. from the kickstart of the pre-season testing, max had already paraded her around like he was a proud older brother.
sure, he has alex. by default. because they are teammates. but realistically, alex will always find himself preferring george’s company to his. they’re best friends, after all.
logan presses his lips together as the team car slowly comes to a stop right outside the paddocks. he glances at benny, focused on his own phone, texting his wife.
so he just keeps to himself as he alights the car. hopefully, he’s kept busy enough this weekend not to notice the distance that might go unnoticed by his friends, but is very prominent for him.
just as he walks through the gantries into the paddocks, he watches the smaller girl walk past him unknowingly, engaged in serious conversations with marta and susie. she’s turned the other way, so she doesn’t even notice him.
when he approaches the livelier areas of the paddocks, noticing oscar walking around with lando. oscar does notice him, smiling at him politely before he makes a sharp turn into the mclaren garage.
logan just sighs again, navigating his way to the williams garage with a weight in his chest.
“i’ll see you again later before your race! i promise!” she shouts, waving her arms in the air as she leaves susie and marta. she runs through the paddocks, truthfully unaware of where she is heading.
when sebastian had asked her to meet him somewhere, it could be anywhere in the paddocks. it could very easily well be at the aston martin home where fernando is hanging out, or their own.
she feels around in her pockets for her phone, halting in the middle of the crowd. she turns around, ready to chase susie to ask if she’d left her phone in her office by chance. but she can vividly remember where she left it in her driver’s room right before she bolted out, late for a lunch date with some of the drivers from the f1 academy.
she clicks her tongue, picking up her feet to start running again. she hears max calling out for her but she’s late, from what she can tell.
if only she was better at restraining herself from staying extra minutes just to hear the latest paddock gossip over lunch. but she couldn’t help herself as she increasingly got invested, giggling in her mind about how she’s going to tell logan everything in the evening when they leave the paddocks to get ice cream.
she arrives at the aston martin home, chest heaving as she approaches the one person loitering outside the building. “lance!”
the canadian whirls around at the call of his name with wide eyes, shocked that the younger girl is calling for him. yes, he is terrified of her, but that’s a story for another time.
“yes?”
“has my race engineer been kidnapped by your grandpa?” she asks, hands on her hips and slightly hunched over as she tries to catch her breath.
“my,” lance takes a deep breath, “grandpa?”
“fernando. has fernando kidnapped my race engineer? he told me to meet him, but i don’t know where.”
lance presses his lips into a thin line. “have you tried texting him?”
she sighs, shaking her head. “no, i left my phone in my room. i don’t have the time to go and get it.”
“oh!” lance perks up, reaching into his back pocket and offers it to her. “here, you can use my phone.”
she mutters a soft thank you as she takes the phone into her hands, navigating lance’s contact list. she raises an eyebrow and looks at him. “you saved my number as grid princess? really?”
“we all have your number saved as that.”
“i-“ she shakes her head, finding for the number she needs. “not important.”
she presses the phone to her ear as it rings, hoping that sebastian answers his phone. hopefully he’s not as forget as her.
“lance?”
“no.”
“you sound different, lance.”
“seb! it’s me! i left my phone in my room.”
“oh, (y/n)!” there’s a pause. “why are you using lance’s phone?”
“i can’t find you,” she mutters, shaking her head in shame as lance watches her. “tell me where you are or i’ll be even later for our meeting. was it over a cup of coffee or what?”
“coffee. come quick.”
“come on, mate.” logan stares at alex blankly, watching the older driver tug at his hand towards the door of his room. “you’ve got to join us for a snack. george is buying food.”
“i don’t feel like eating,” logan mutters, retracting his arm immediately. he lies on the massage table of his room, moving his hand under his head. “go without me.”
“i can’t!” alex frowns. “your best friend told me to take care of you. i can’t grab food and leave you here by yourself.”
logan shrugs. “if you’re only inviting me because she told you to, i don’t wanna go.”
“what?” alex tilts his head. “no, george asked me to bring you! we’re sneaking out of the paddocks for a bit to get food! come on! the local food here is amazing.”
“i don’t want to go.”
“logan.”
“alex?”
“i’m telling james you’re locking yourself inside your room again. he won’t be happy.”
logan looks at alex without moving his head, the glare shooting daggers at the older driver. alex raises his eyebrows with a small smile, never having seen this emotion in the rookie.
“i don’t care if you tell him.”
“fine, be that way,” alex sighs dejectedly. he doesn’t want to use more names as a bargaining chip, but it seems that he will have to resort to exactly that. “i’ll just tell oscar and (y/n) you’re being like this.”
logan scoffs, dropping his phone by his head. he breathes out exasperatedly and rolls to lie on his back. “as if they’d care.”
alex, already halfway to the door, stops in his tracks and turns around. “mate,” he trails off softly, “what do you mean by that?”
“it’s so obvious,” logan sighs again, turning to face the wall. “she’s always with max or whoever. i’m alone.”
“i’m here with you right now.”
logan furrows his eyebrows. that’s not what he means. alex probably knows that too. “i just wanna be alone right now, alex. i’m sorry.”
“oh, okay. i’ll bring you something back.”
logan turns around quickly, chasing for alex’s presence. “alex, wait.”
alex turns around just as before he is able to close the door. he’s hopeful that logan would join him and george for some food — the rookie often spending time with his two best friends means that he doesn’t get many opportunities to get to know him outside of team content and meetings.
“don’t tell them i said that, okay?” he sighs before looking down to avoid the curious brown eyes. “i don’t want them knowing i feel that way.”
alex hums. sometimes he sees his younger self in the rookie. the rookie’s often introverted demeanour makes it very easy to sympathise with him, especially when he had a rough couple of years in another team all by himself. he knows what it feels like.
perhaps what logan needs is space. hopefully he opens up soon, and then alex can finally put his mind to rest with some reassurance. because it’s not like his performance is helping him out with his confidence. he’s been there, done that.
“okay,” alex nods. “your secret’s safe with me.”
lando hums, looking around the paddocks. his eyes lands on his teammate, who is simply staring off blankly at the grandstand as he chews away on his sandwich.
“what?” oscar asks monotonously, still looking ahead with his eyes half open. he’s sunk into the small seat situated at the edge of their garage with his leg over the other. “i can feel you looking at me, mate. what is it?”
“oh,” lando says softly, chuckling to himself. he sinks into his own seat and turns away to take a bite from his own sandwich. “nothing. i was just wondering where dumb and dumber are.”
he sees oscar perk up with realisation, turning to look at him slowly. his eyebrows are furrowed at the sheer realisation of what’s been missing the entire day. he lets out a soft “ah” before he turns to look at the grandstand again. “i don’t actually know. we’ve been so busy today — i hadn’t even noticed.”
the older driver laughs, nodding along. “yeah, we only get busier from here, mate. i haven’t texted max back still. actually, i don’t even know where my phone is.”
oscar laughs, licking his lips. “neither do i. i barely even got to have a 5 minute phone call with lily this morning. i had to leave so early.”
“just one more interview and we’re free,” lando sighs, shaking his head. truthfully, he’s grown quite tired too. for someone like him, running out of energy to be talking to everyone doesn’t come often. but it feels like the day is finally getting the best of him.
he’s simply dreading the next interview they’ve got. he doesn’t know how many more fake laughs and forced smiles he’s got within himself. he doesn’t want to do small talk anymore. he just wants to head back to the hotel and get some sleep for what friday has to bring them.
“getting ice cream with the powerpuff girls tonight?”
oscar laughs with a simple nod. “of course. she’s not going to let a weekend by where we don’t try some local ice cream.”
“alright, good meeting,” sebastian grins at her, slowly closing his laptop. “so you know what to do this weekend, kid? confident you’ll score some points?”
“of course,” she laughs with a small nod. “i’m ready to tackle the weekend.”
sebastian stands up, holding the laptop against his chest. “good! so, where are you headed to now?”
she smiles. “hopefully off to take a shower and start getting ready for my ice cream date with the boys.”
“ah! exciting,” sebastian grins. “well i’ve got one more meeting. you’ll be okay on your own?” she nods. “okay, well, if you leave before my meeting ends, let me know, alright?”
“of course!” she beams with a grin. she spots a familiar shade of blue across the paddocks, beaming when she spots logan in the crowd of williams personnel. she tries to push past sebastian, who’s now opening the door, and attempts to dart out to stop logan for a quick conversation to confirm their ice cream date that evening. before she can make it to the top of the steps, another familiar face pops up in front of her with a wide smile.
sebastian greets max before quickly excusing himself, leaving the girl with the older driver. “hi?”
“hi!” max greets her with an excited wave. “are you busy? i need your help.”
she opens her mouth, deciding her answer as she peeks over his shoulder. she answers with a soft ‘yeah’ as she watches the crowd of blue walking away and disappearing from her sight. “what is it?”
“we’re going to the uk for a vacation this summer and p’s coming along with us. i wanna plan something — she really wants to meet you.”
logan sighs to himself, leaning up against the railing of the stairs leading up to the andretti racing home. he looks around the paddocks and then glances down at his phone for the time. everybody is late. could it be possible that plans were cancelled without him knowing?
could it be that her and oscar agreed to call raincheck without remembering to let him know? which would them simply confirm his suspicions that he is slowly losing his best friends.
but there’s no other time but tonight to get ice cream together. unless she’s planning to get it with somebody else? he huffs to himself and pushes himself off the railing to start his journey back to his hotel room for a lonely night. that was, until he hears a voice calling out to him.
“oh, logan! are you waiting for her? why don’t you come in and sit down while you wait?” sebastian smiles, letting the door close behind him. he walks down the steps, immediately noticing the sadder aura around the boy.
sure, he knows that logan is typically soft spoken by himself, but he believes that he knows logan well enough now that he is comfortable being himself. “is something wrong? the media picked you apart again today, kid?”
logan looks up and quickly shakes his head. he rubs the back of his neck and hisses softly. “no, it’s not that,” he laughs sheepishly, trying to ignore the heavy weight on his chest. “have my plans been cancelled, seb? did i not know?”
maybe he should try opening up to sebastian? if anyone knows what it’s like falling out with a friend, sebastian is definitely one of those people, right?
he watches sebastian process his words. he immediately regrets opening up to him. “ah, forget it.”
“no, no! i’m glad you’re opening up to me,” sebastian snaps out of his trance and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “i’m not judging you. i get it. are you feeling okay?”
logan shrugs with a soft frown. “i don’t know. just a little weird — my text in the group chat from this morning’s still unanswered.”
sebastian stares at him, trying to come up with the words to try and make him feel better. until it hits him. “oh! is that what you’re concerned about?” sebastian laughs, pulling logan into his side for a hug. “she wasn’t ignoring you! she left her phone in her driver’s room and never had the time to go back in to get it. we were riddled with interviews and meetings all day. then max hijacked her early in the evening to plan something with penelope.”
logan looks at him, skeptism written all over his face. “are you serious?”
“i’m serious, kid,” sebastian confirms with a firm nod. “and i ran into oscar and lando earlier. they were super busy too. oscar even told me he can’t wait to finally sit back and relax with you guys at the ice cream parlour.”
as if on cue, oscar pops up from the corner of the racing home with his bag lazily strung over his shoulder. “why are you guys hugging?”
sebastian frowns. “what’s wrong with that?”
oscar shakes his head, blinking rapidly. “nothing, i suppose.” he rubs his eyes and groans. “i’m just a little tired, probably. i can’t wait to get some ice cream.”
logan feels the weight slowly lifting from his chest. logan slumps his shoulders slightly with a grin. he tries to confirm sebastian’s allegations. “i haven’t seen you all day, mate. busy day?”
“busiest i’ve had in a while,” oscar yawns, covering his mouth. “i haven’t even gotten to talk to lily at all today.”
the door swings open with a loud shriek, their body suddenly knocked back by a body throwing itself against them. he looks down in shock at the smaller girl who has her arms thrown around his and oscar’s bodies. “hey!”
she hops back excitedly, hair pulled back into a new hairstyle. “ice cream?” she nods excitedly at logan and then she turns to oscar, repeating the question.
oscar throws his head back with a laugh. he wraps an arm around her shoulder, and smiles. “of course. i’ve been looking forward to ice cream with you guys all day.”
sebastian finally steps away from him with a small smile and a thumbs-up. he returns the gesture, his warm smile finally putting the older man at ease. it would be a shame to watch a friendship as genuine and great as theirs fall apart. as much as he can, he would like to make sure that their authenticity never ever leaves them.
“come on! i wanna go and walk around town after we get ice cream,” she shrieks, reaching out to pull logan along with her. she glances at sebastian. “would you like to join us, seb?”
sebastian laughs, politely declining her offers. “i just want to take a nap after the day we’ve had.”
she nods, wrapping an arm around logan’s torso as they start to walk to the exit of the paddocks. “which one of you’s driving tonight? cause it’s definitely not me.”
“i’ll drive,” logan nods willingly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a soft squeeze. “i heard you left your phone in your room all day. how’d you survive being apart from your phone for that long?”
she throws her head back with a groan. “barely! i can’t believe i went the whole day without chatting with you guys!”
oscar scoffs. “clingy.”
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#logan sargeant x reader#oscar piastri x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#fem!driver#female driver#f1 fem!driver#f1 female driver#vettel reincarnate#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#disneyprincemuke vr#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#f1 grid x reader
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After Reading the Proposal and Wedding One shot I think it's called?
Can I please request the same characters(Adam, Lucifer and Vox) react to there kid having there Powers and how GN Reader and Them deal with it in an everyday bases
oh my god my brain has so many ideas i’m doing this right the freak now
also i’m so sorry this isn’t necessarily gn!reader becuz this does talk about pregnancy 😭
Warnings: AFAB!reader, pregnancy talk, ooc Adam?(?), swear words, potential S1 spoilers, Vox being a bit of a shitty dad
Adam, Lucifer, Vox w/ kids who have their powers (+ extra)
Adam
You and Adam probably wait awhile after your wedding until having kids, he wants to have his party lifestyle a little longer, and cmon, who can blame him?
At first he isn’t so sure, I mean, a small ball of flesh that just cries wasn’t the most entertaining thing to him… But he’ll do it for you
But the moment you tell him your pregnant, something in him clicks.
He’s very invested in the kids before their even born, he’s reading all those cheesy and old baby books constantly, cause honestly, he’s not as prepared as he’d thought he’d be
Simply because I see Adam as both a boy dad and a girl dad let’s say you two have twins 😛
He’s a good dad not gonna lie, but let’s be real, he tried to make at least one of his kids say “feces” as their first word… yeah, you weren’t too happy. 😀
Growing up, he definitely spoiled his girl and roughhoused with his boy, maybe a bit too much…
He was definitely a baseball or softball dad
Considering Adam’s foul language, they definitely grew up at swearing at a young age, but it stayed in the house dw
As the kids grew into their early teens they discovered their shared their dads powers — and bitch was through the roof about it
Adam started training them on how to use their powers to their liking, but also taught them the safety of them. He was actually a pretty good teacher ngl.
Lucifer
Obviously, from his past marriage with Lilith, he already had his first kid, so he was ready — he was just waiting for you to be as well
So when you were, he was stoked !
He was very aware and attentive during your pregnancy, trying to not make the same mistakes he did the first time around
He’s also very understanding about mood swings and he WILL go out in the middle of the night to get you cravings, he doesn’t have to, but he will
But when you both bring another daughter Morningstar into the world, Charlie is thrilled to have a younger sister!
She definitely babysits a lot, and the child definitely spends a lot of time in the hotel
Luci dedicates certain times of the day when he can not and will not have meetings or projects to be working on so he can dedicate time to both of his daughters.
He loves asking your daughter how her day was, and how schools going, but he also asks how her friends are to stress that grades aren’t the only thing that matter
As your daughter grows, she starts to develop Lucifer’s powers, only a small fraction — considering how powerful he is, but he’s stoked that not one, but now both of his daughters have his powers!
He’s been through training them before with Charlie, so he’s pretty skilled on how to do it now, but he tends to stress to your daughter the usage of the powers and the rights and wrongs are far more important than the strength you have
Vox
Vox was in no rush to have kids due to the current workload for VoxTech, but if you wanted them, all you had to do was ask
Vox, like Adam, couldn’t really wrap his head (or screen ig??) around the concept of a child until they were in his arms.
Vox wasn’t really sure how to handle a newborn, older kids were different, but this..? Maybe this wasn’t right for him…
It broke his heart every time he heard his son sob as a new born, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure what to do.
It’d be late at night and Vox would get out of your shared bed to go make sure the baby would stop crying before you’d wake.
He’d try everything, singing, rocking, bottle, changing the diaper, toys, everything. And it wouldn’t stop.
It’s not until you stir in your sleep and hear everything, you go to your son’s crib and simply hold him and he stops crying immediately, you set your son down and go back to sleep. Vox is literally amazed.
As your son ages into the ages of 6 and up is when it starts to get easier for Vox, by the time Vox can even slightly have a conversation with the kid it gets easier, the communication is a lot more clear
He doesn’t have a lot of time to play with his son due to VoxTech, so usually Vox will keep his son in his lap as he works in his office, he’ll even ask his son business questions! Even when he only gets gibberish back, he’ll take it. Hey, don’t judge him, client feedback is important.
As his son ages into his teen years, Vox starts turning a bit strict, he needs his son to be the coolest fucking kid in school, so Velvette tailors him a shit ton of clothes and Vox makes sure his son always has the newest gadget. Vox also is strict about keeping grades up, he wouldn’t ever take anything away for a bad grade, but your son may get a bit of lecture..
All of this is building up to something though, Vox really wants your son to take over VoxTech in his adult years, so he wants to make sure his son is prepared and experienced in the new world he’d enter, if he doesn’t want, Vox gets it, he may be a bit pushy though, but Vox has been in that place so he won’t push too hard.
At around the age of 15, your son developed Vox’s hypnosis powers.
Vox teaches your son how to use this to his advantage, like for example, VoxTech, but he also stressed there’s a time and place, and to not use it on someone you truly care about. Strategy is everything.
Is Vox the perfect parent? No. But no one is. But he genuinely has so much love for his son, and tbh he wants more kids…
#reqs open#x reader#mio’s writing ! ☆#fanfiction#x y/n#x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#adam x reader#hazbin hotel adam#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#adam#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x y/n#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#vox hazbin#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#vox#vox x you
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who could stay? (you could stay.) (eddie munson x reader)
summary: you're convinced that being loved comes with a cost. he finds a way to prove you wrong. (wc: 9.7k+)
order up! i've got one ash's special for anonymous. ♡
Keep going, keep going, keep going.
Agree to run that errand for someone. Offer a shoulder to cry on for that person. Fix that problem for this friend. Keep going, keep offering, keep becoming indispensable.
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact age you’d figured out the formula. You can never know for sure if the day was sunny or if it were rainy, if it were a calm December morning or a buzzing July night, but those details aren’t very important. The only important detail is that you had finally cracked the code at some point – you had finally figured out the solution to feeling unlovable. And that was that, truthfully, there wasn’t a solution. Once you were destined to feel this way, to feel so sour at your core, there is no easy way to rid yourself of that rotten pit. It would always be there – always churning, always burning, always yearning. Yearning to be loved, yearning to feel those waves of warmth cascading over your brain and down your spine, the ones others had always described to you but you’d just never… experienced. Never became familiar with.
It felt like everyone was playing an over-elaborate prank on you. They’d all conspired against you, invented a false feeling in which someone claims to feel loved, only to sit back and watch as you fumbled to find it. They’d laughed as you dug through a graveyard of relationships, caked your fingernails with dirt as you sobbed and would continue to claw deeper, trying to find just one set of bones that might hold that warmth for you.
The only solution to that detrimental feeling of being unlovable, was to feel needed.
You needed to feel so necessary, so essential, to everyone around you at all times. It never mattered how much of you it took. You’d give away every piece of yourself a million times over just to feel wanted at some capacity, even if that capacity were one you’d forced upon the other person. You didn’t care if you’d built the glass cages of theirs – you just cared that they kept you around to wipe away any smudges that appeared.
Being wanted wasn’t quite the same as being loved. And if you thought about that for too long or too often, you might just break irrevocably.
“I just don’t understand him,” Nancy sighs from the head of your bed, reclining against a wall of pillows you’d lined your headboard with. Two of which were body pillows. Long tubes of fluff to try and fill lonely spaces, you suppose, “Why didn’t he just tell me he didn’t want to go to the same college? Why… Why do I feel like I am forcing him to be with me?”
Because you are. Just like I force you all to need me.
“I don’t know, Nance.”
That bland, bitter, half-thought out answer lingers on your tongue, almost burns your throat with the whisper of say more, say something useful, say something comforting. It’s the whisper of those four words not being enough. It’s the whisper of that threat that those four words could be the beginning of the end, the thing that makes Nancy realize she doesn’t need you.
After all, what use is a friend that can’t give good advice, or be supportive during relationship rants?
You open your mouth to add on something sweeter, something to coat the conversation like honey and smooth out the lines forming on Nancy’s forehead, but she beats you to it, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Yes. “It’s fine,” at least that wasn’t a lie – you’d dug this specific grave, had rooted down tooth and nail only to find another empty coffin of a friendship curtained with want instead of love. You’d all but asked for this, “What he did really was shitty. It’s not fair to you.”
The words are almost robotic, telling Nancy Wheeler what she wants to hear rather than what she needs to hear. You don’t always do that, you do make a point of investing in the truth from time to time to truly secure your position as someone who is genuinely needed in her life, but the headache nagging at your temples tells you it’s not worth the fight tonight. You’re tired, you’re agitated, and you really just want to get Nancy to the point of contentment in her rambling so that you can send her on her way.
God, you’re an awful friend.
It turns you quiet, a ricocheting thought that bruises your inner skull the rest of the time Nancy sits on your bed. The guilt eats you alive for that moment of irritation the rest of the night. Even after Nancy goes home, even after you’ve brushed your teeth and you’ve tucked yourself into bed. The guilt gnaws on the edges of that emptiness inside of you, that ever-present black hole that already existed, and says this is why you cannot be loved.
Maybe the pity party for feeling like a bad friend is what makes you a bad friend.
And maybe if you were a better friend, you would be loved instead of wanted for once.
It’s all part of a cycle, never-ending and treacherous. It’s always been this way. You make promises to your friends and rip yourself to shreds before remolding yourself into whatever they need; giving rides to the younger kids within your circle to the pool all summer which evolved into taking turns with Steve as to who would pick them all up after their D&D club ran late every Friday night, always lending a listening ear to Nancy once Johnathan moved away and she’d had to witness her relationship and her love vanishing in real time, always being the one person who will listen to Robin ramble for hours about her sudden interests. None of it was born of ill-intent, but when you’d go home lonesome at the end of the night, you could see it all for what it was.
You were trying to fill a void. A hollow rot, a black hole. And it was only working half the time.
Half the time, until he came along.
And make no mistake, his arrival was as bloody as anyone who had previously entered your life. For a while there, you believed his headstone was at the end of the line already, sanctioned away in this graveyard of the ability to be loved. He came crashing into your life on a random Friday night, and you had sworn you could already see the end as it began, but you had been wrong.
“So, you’re the infamous babysitter.”
His voice caught you off guard. You’d been sitting in your car with your windows down, enjoying the reprieve of a cooling autumn evening as you waited for the boys to finish up with their D&D club. With your head buried in the latest sci-fi novel that Dustin had recommended and would no doubt be grilling you on once he got in the car, you hadn’t even heard the club exit the school.
“Nope,” you fought a smile as you glanced up from the pages to see an older guy standing there, closer to yours and Steve’s age than the kids. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that this was the famous Eddie all the boys would ramble on about for hours on end, “Harrington’s the babysitter. I’m just the taxi driver.”
There was something particularly pretty in the way he threw his head back with laughter at your words. Curls that messily fell just beyond his shoulders, full lips disappearing as his teeth peeked through and shined beneath the parking lot’s lamp posts. His denim vest looked purposefully distressed with a mirage of patches and pins, and he was wearing a leather jacket beneath it, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough for it yet outside. He was cute – and watching him laugh because of you sparked something irreversible inside of you.
“C’mon now,” he sighed as his cackles quieted, “Give yourself more credit than that. At least call yourself something fancy, like ‘chauffeur’.”
“Ah, but ‘taxi driver’ insinuates that I charge them,” you don’t miss a beat, and your quick wit has him chuckling again.
You caught sight of his eyes, corners creased with joy – brown. They were deep, russet, tantalizing brown. Almost indiscernible from his pupil in the dark.
“I’m Eddie, by the way.”
You took his hand that he shoved through your open window with ease, and felt an immediate shiver run down your spine. Not quite from the cold, but not quite warm. You saw the first flash of his grave, and you knew you’d be digging your greedy hands into it soon enough.
As you gave him your name in return, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone.
You had been half right that night. You wouldn’t be leaving well enough alone, you would be seeking out the impossible from Eddie – but so would he.
It quickly became apparent that Eddie was a pest. Someone who weaseled his way into the lives of others, who made his presence felt and never forgotten.
You’d started with the same slow dance as you did with every new person, a hesitant dipping of your toes into their waters, unsure if your presence in their life would only cause more trouble than you’re worth, when you quickly discovered that nothing could ever be hesitant or slow with Eddie Munson. He’s the one constantly reaching out to you. Driving the kids home now takes double the time it used to, long conversations being had with him that has the kids dragging you away, practically begging to just be taken home. The day he’d asked for your number, you couldn’t tell which one of you burned brighter red. And the moment he had your number in his clutches? Forget about it. You never heard the end of Eddie Munson, and you never really wanted to.
Unlike your friends you already had and loved deeply, Eddie was observant.
It’s within the first month of knowing you that he had picked up on your insecurities. Maybe he hadn’t directly seen that gaping hole in your chest yet, but he noticed your habit of running yourself dry to see others thrive.
The need to be needed. He picked up on it quickly.
“What about Sunday?” Eddie’s voice traveled over the line as you laid on your stomach, stretched out across your bed for a few moments of rest before you had to get up and take the cookies you’d baked for Steve and Robin into Family Video, just like you had promised, “I’m free then if I finish all my fuckin’ homework on Saturday night.”
Surprisingly, that phone call with Eddie hadn’t been something expected or planned. It had been impulsive; in a rare moment of peace, you found yourself craving to hear his voice. Somehow, the two of you had ended up trying to figure out a free day to properly hang out. Eddie wanted to go to Benny’s for milkshakes, and you wouldn’t turn down the free fries he also promised.
“I can’t,” you paused just to hear his predictably dramatic sigh, grinning as you continued to explain, “I’m taking Max to the skatepark that day.”
“And it’s going to take all day?”
“It could!”
“There’s absolutely no way.”
“You clearly haven’t seen that girl skate.”
The conversation continued, light-hearted enough with plentiful jokes made. Something about talking with Eddie made your heart lighter, the usual unbearable and contradictory weight of emptiness no longer on your mind as you listened to him ramble about something that had happened in one of his classes – a teacher tried to embarrass him when he caught Eddie doodling for a D&D campaign by asking him a question, not expecting him to know the answer. Eddie had, of course, leaving the teacher baffled with a smirk.
It’s all about my charm, sweetheart, he responded when you asked how he hadn’t earned a detention from that.
Only towards the end of the call, when the conversation finally lulled and the two of you found yourselves settled into a comfortable silence, did Eddie finally circle back to the beginning of your conversation.
“You know,” he started, “When I first met you, I never took you to be someone so…”
“Amazing? Wonderful? Funny?” you jokingly attempted to finish his sentence.
“Busy.”
Oh. You hadn’t expected that one.
“Busy?” you repeated back to him, “I’m not that busy.”
Your mind immediately started racing with thoughts of what he had meant. Was he feeling neglected? Maybe you should have canceled on Max on Sunday, agreed to Benny’s with him instead. No, you couldn’t bear Max’s disappointment. Maybe you could tell Max you had a time constraint, even though you knew she hated those when it came to her skating days. Was there any other plans you could abandon? Anyone else you could bear to let down for the sake of not leaving Eddie high and dry? No, no – all your other weekend plans involved going to the movies with Robin, helping Steve look into colleges finally, taking the boys to the Starcourt mall to shop for supplies to make figurines for their newest campaign. The room was suddenly getting smaller, your chest constricting, your head spinning. You couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing any of those people, no, but what about Eddie? Maybe he was right in feeling neglected, maybe you deserved whatever guilt was to come from whatever his next words would be. He was your friend, you were supposed to make time for h-
“Sweetheart,” he scoffed over the line, and you swore you heart stopped right then and there, “You’re the highest thing in demand since Cabbage Patch Kids last Christmas – and trust me, I should know how in demand those fuckers were. I worked seasonally at the mall, remember?”
Your breath caught. He was feeling neglected. You weakly began your apology as tears were already filling your eyes, that panic turning over itself in your gut, “I’m-”
“And it’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong,” It’s clear your voice had been too soft, too weak, for him to hear you, “Just means I’ve gotta fight harder to be worth your time, am I right?”
You had to clear your throat, but it did nothing to subsidize that anxiety that rattled your bones. It’s blatantly evident as your voice shook with a second attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean- I can… I’ll… Just tell me when for Benny’s. I can make it work, I swear-”
“Woah, woah, woah.”
He had to have heard the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. The shake of your breath as you’d stuttered over your words, grasping for a solution.
“You don’t need to apologize for that,” his voice was soothing and soft, the most gentle it had been the entire night. You pinched your eyes shut and just tried to imagine those stupid, big doe eyes, those ungodly messy curls (you’d started to tease him about if he ever even brushed or combed them). The panic remained, but Eddie’s voice started to give it a run for its money, “I was just playing around. You know that, right?” he paused to give you room to answer, but your throat was still tightly squeezed by overwhelming emotion, overwhelming fear of having scorned Eddie, “You could only have enough time in your schedule to see me once a year, and I’d still be your friend. We could only have these random phone calls, even if they were never longer than a minute, and you’d still be worth it. You know that, right?” Another pause, another wave of silence from your end, “Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.”
Each word made the panic settle. You weren’t sure how he did it. You weren’t sure how mortified you should be that he had only been in your life for a month at most, and had just overheard you at your most vulnerable.
All you were sure of was that you believed him.
“Okay,” you croaked, finally feeling that ring of fear loosen, vocal chords finally functioning once more.
“Okay,” Eddie repeated back in that same gentle, soothing, soft tone.
You weren’t disappointing him. You weren’t making him feel neglected. He still found use for you, he still wanted you around – he still needed your friendship. That had to be enough.
It was quiet over the line for a few moments.
It has to be enough, you reminded yourself.
“Say,” you finally said, voice back to normal strength and the tears having dried themselves up for the most part. Your heart had almost returned to normal rhythm, “How does Benny’s sound tonight?”
“Tonight?” he chimed back, sounding as excited as a little kid the morning of a cherished holiday, something like Christmas.
A shiver ran down your spine. It’s not from the cold, and you tell yourself it’s not quite warmth – it can’t be warmth.
“Tonight,” you confirmed, “With a detour by Family Video, if you don’t mind. I’ve got a special delivery of cookies to fulfill.”
“What kind?”
“Excuse me?”
You were grinning - God, you were a pathetic fool, grinning and clutching onto that phone like a lifeline. Like if you let go of it, you’d lose his voice, and if you lost his voice, that would be the end of the world.
“What kind of cookies?”
“Chocolate chip.”
He hummed, not answering right away as if he were deliberating this information. When he finally spoke again, another shiver wrapped around your spine, spinning down, down down. Waves of what you almost believed were warmth. “Okay. I suppose I can be your taxi driver, for a price.”
“What’s your price?”
“One cookie.”
“Deal.”
It had to be enough, because you were still clutching that telephone tightly to your cheek, long after the phone call ended with Eddie’s promise of being at your house soon enough. It had to be enough, because after that night, it became clear; the world would not end with the loss of just Eddie’s voice from your life, but the loss of Eddie, period. It was the first night of many in which you played a very, very dangerous game.
Even with Nancy gone, you felt restless. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer in all that self-pity, still replaying the night and all you could have done differently.
Had she caught on with how out of it you had been? Had she seen through your act and immediately assumed the worst – assumed you weren’t worth keeping around?
The thoughts might be an overreaction.
You were definitely overreacting.
You didn’t really care that you were overreacting, though, because you really couldn’t control it. It was just another dark path you couldn’t stop your mind from traveling down. It was endless, and it was lonesome, and… and it was just normal. What should be devolving into a panic attack can only settle like an emptiness deep within your chest; you’ve been staring at the blank wall of your living room for so long without blinking, your eyes have gone dry.
A pattern. That’s what the therapist said. You had a pattern for overthinking these interactions, for projecting feelings onto others that didn’t exist. You think all your friends hate you, you think that a stranger found your smile to be more of a grimace, you think your mom hasn’t called in months because she recognizes you as a failure finally. But none of it is actually what those people think. It’s like a mirror – you look into the eyes of others, and you see all your own insecurities reflected back.
She’d asked you to work on it. To take a step back and just breathe, just remind yourself of that, whenever this happens. You’d decide whether you’d mention this minor slip up later. For now, you were going to wallow. You were going to spiral with just you, this damn blank wall, and maybe even the bottle of wine in the fridge.
Yes, your mind was made up, and you force yourself to stand from the couch and wander into the kitchen, eyes still dry and chest still caving in on itself as you open the fridge.
That’s as far as you get. Your fridge is wide open, the bright luminescent light flooding your kitchen floor in time with the trickling chill that sneaks up on your warm cheeks and already numb toes, when you spot it.
A box of takeout. It’s old enough now you could throw it out, you had known the moment he’d taken the last of his meal to-go that he wouldn’t finish it. Teased him about it, even. But he was stubborn and you weren’t capable of turning down the opportunity to let another piece of him, another flash of evidence of his place in your life, occupy this apartment. So there it sat, a half-eaten burger he hadn’t revisited.
But he had revisited the apartment – revisited you. He’d been here every night this week, and you’d practically had to shove him out on the street to get him to leave this morning to get to work on time.
The edges of that emptiness that weighs down your insides blur, already lightening microscopically as you slam shut the fridge and forgo the wine completely to grab the phone instead.
“You don’t have to always take care of everyone, you know,” he murmured as he joined you in the kitchen to retrieve popcorn for the gang, everyone gathered in the living room for a movie night.
“Pardon?” you asked, hardly glancing over your shoulder as you punched in the designated time for the microwave to turn the kernels into an easy, mouth-watering snack of butter and crunch.
“You always take care of everyone. You don’t have to.”
His words rang clearer that time, loud enough to have stopped you in your tracks. You paused mid-reach, the cabinet for the Harrington’s bowls wide open and shelves nearly too tall for you.
“I-” you weren’t sure exactly what to say, “What do you mean?”
His brows scrunched, eyes having narrowed in the slightest in your direction, “Please don’t play dumb right now.”
“I’m not playing dumb. I’m trying to get popcorn for our movie night,” you waved your hand towards the shelves lined with bowls for emphasis on your point, “That’s not really taking care of everyone – it was just being polite. Steve’s hosting, it’s the least I can do.”
“The least you can do? The least you can do is actually just sit with friends, enjoy the movie,” the crease between his brow deepened, eyeing you with an unfamiliar concern. You shifted beneath the weight of his gaze.
You don’t know what to say. Except, “It’s not that serious.”
He scoffed, and you nearly flinched from it. Fear threatened to bubble up – he’s upset, he’s getting irritated at you. He’s getting tired of you.
You waited for him to say something more as the buzz of the microwave filled the tense space, but he remained silent. Brooding.
“What?” your voice shook, your entire being torn between succumbing to all that fear and anxiety in upsetting him further and that voice in the back of your mind that urged you to push him, to hear what he really thought. “I know you have something more to say.”
“In the six months I’ve known you, you haven’t taken a single break for yourself.”
He met your push, stood his ground and didn’t let it put any distance between you two. It felt like a goddamn revelation, right there in the Harrington kitchen.
“I take plenty of breaks, Eddie,” you tried to laugh off, “I do spend time away from you all, hard as that may be to belie-”
“Hardly,” he cut you off as sharply as the first resonating pop that echoed from the microwave.
“What’s your point? I just like being around you guys. Like I said, it’s not that serious.”
This was the part where the distance would happen. You kept pushing, took the inch he’d given you to bite back and ran with it. Normally, you avoided conflict with any of your friends vehemently. Always afraid, always assuming the relationships to be so fragile and so delicate. You would take such care in never giving them a reason to hate you that you’d never taken to a battleground before.
But there had been a look in Eddie’s eyes that night. A shine that, breaking through all the worry for you, whispered, fight with me. Stand your ground with me. I’ll still call you tomorrow, no matter what words we exchange tonight.
A safety net had formed that you’d never even noticed. That delicacy wasn’t needed here. You could pick up the sword, there in that kitchen, and it wouldn’t turn Eddie to smoke and shadows.
“My point is…” he paused, he swallowed hard, he exhibited the delicacy that was usually expected from you, “You can like being around us. But you should put yourself first. At least once. At least on movie night.”
“How is me making popcorn not putting myself first?” you got the question out, you took a deep breath, ready to go on some sort of defensive tirade for your habit you were well aware of.
He beat you to it, “Every day last week, you only got three hours of sleep, at most, before your shifts. You gave up sleep to hang out with us all way too late, refused to throw in the towel and go home before anyone else.”
“I could have napped-”
“You didn’t nap,” he stressed, taking a step closer to you. The popping of the snack turning in the microwave was erratic, mere seconds left on the timer. Static noise to the conversation at hand, “I know you didn’t fucking nap after your shifts because you were immediately running errands for everyone else, or hanging out again. You offered to give Robin a ride to work every single day, and her shifts start… what, an hour after yours ended? And then you had to give her rides home, right? But in those hours she was at work, you were helping Dustin with an essay for school – that little fucker told me all about it. You were awake when Johnathan called you and we were all stoned off our asses, went and got us food we didn’t need but still wanted. We didn’t even expect you to pick up, you know? I told them, I swore to them, you wouldn’t pick up. You had a morning shift. You were scheduled literal hours from when we called you. But you picked up. You fucking picked up, and you went and got the fucking food for us fucking idiots.”
Your brain completely malfunctioned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was saying all of these things that should be good things, things that proved you were needed and you were reliable, but with such venom in his tone.
Anger had sparked within you as you pictured how giddy Dustin had been over the B he’d earned on his essay, that sincere appreciation on Robin’s face every time she left your car last week, the dopey grin that Argyle had worn when you’d arrived with their food order in your pajamas. All previously things to fuel you, filling that aching hole inside of you, now being tarnished because he was concerned.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you seethed at him, “Would you prefer I hadn’t been awake? Would you prefer I let Dustin just… get a fucking F on that essay? Or Robin walks to work?”
“Yes!”
You were both shocked at the sudden volume in your voices. The quickness in his reply. The quiver in your lip.
“Yes,” he breathed out, quieter this time, “I would prefer those things if it meant you were taking care of yourself. The word ‘no’ should be in your vocabulary, sweetheart. I… The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.”
But you all needing me might.
“Just… just…” your breaths came out in huffs, eyes downcast and unwilling to meet Eddie’s stare. A final push, and it came out more fragile than you’d ever intended, “Just mind your business, Eddie.”
He opened his mouth to say more, but the microwave started to go off, signaling what you saw as the end of the conversation – the fight. You’d raised your voice at him, you’d swung that sword in his direction, and he hadn’t vanished. His friendship – he – wasn’t as breakable as you’d thought.
You spun on your heel, you took the popcorn out and divided it into bowls for the group, busying your hands in any way possible. All the while, he never left the kitchen. He stood just feet away from you and let you do what needed to be done, and only stopped you as you turned to exit the kitchen with the snacks acquired.
His hand caught onto your elbow, “You have bags.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have bags under your eyes,” he elaborated. He no longer looked frustrated, but defeated, a morose distress pinching the edges of his feature.
“Jesus,” you were now scoffing, adjusting your grip on those bowls, “You really know how to compliment a girl, don’t you?”
“They’ve been there for months,” his grip refused to loosen, thumb trailing over the crease in your arm, “Please don’t run yourself into the ground.”
You gave him a cold shoulder as you left him behind to rejoin your friends, unable to shake his consternation. It was so genuine, it terrified you. It made your insides churn, it turned your anxious attachment to dust.
It made a shiver of warmth travel down your spine.
The empty space beside you on the couch only remained for seconds after you’d passed around the bowls, keeping one for yourself. He was back there, back at your side, as if the two of you hadn’t just exited a battle ground. As if a stand-off hadn’t just occurred, as if it all hadn’t ended in a draw.
He looked at you with those eyes.
Fight with me. Stand your ground with me. Don’t walk away from me. I will still call tomorrow.
He did more than call that night. As the movie started, he didn’t so much as flinch when your head fell to his shoulder in exhaustion. He only tucked an arm around your shoulders, only shifted you to be more comfortable as you used him as a personal pillow. He glared at everyone in warning not to grill you on the plot of the movie when you’d awoke mildly disappointed, he’d let you sleep on the drive home. He never once brought the fight back up.
And he still called the next day.
After your shift, he was the first voice you heard after dragging your feet into your apartment. A brief apology was exchanged before it was back to business as usual between you two. And somewhere between his rambles, you fell asleep with your phone balanced half-haphazardly between your cheek and shoulder. You could only dream of the grin he wore when he’d hear your soft snores over the line, quieting down immediately to let you rest. He never hung up – he was content to sit on a hushed line if only for the assuredness that you were finally resting.
The warmth no longer traveled down your spine, instead curling up timidly near that hole inside of you. You let it.
“Munson residence!”
That warmth that had found home in your chest still remains to this day, rousing at Eddie’s voice over the line. It’s nearly enough to make you cry – the relief that floods you just by the sound of him and his endless chipper. His optimism that always seems to exist, even in contrast with those harsh edges he tries to portray.
“Eddie,” you whisper, as if you’re not the only one in your apartment, “Can you… Are you free?”
Even after a year, you still sometimes felt guilt, asking so much of him. Asking so much, and giving so little in return.
But you weren’t the one who set that standard. Eddie had. Ferociously, fiercely, stubbornly. The insistence that you simply being was enough for him.
“For you, sweetness?” he chuckles lowly. He recognizes your voice immediately; you never have to say it’s you calling. You could have shrugged it off as Caller ID, but you knew the Munson’s phone didn’t have that. No, he recognized you by voice only. He’d once joked that only you would one day be able to rouse him from the dead, based on the ‘sweet melody alone’. Recognition in death – you had managed to burrow your way so deeply into his life, you’d earned recognition in death. “Always. What’s up?”
You could have just kept him on the phone. Had one of your infamous conversations about everything and nothing. Sat on the cold tiles of your kitchen and smiled like a child as you listened to him rant. But the cold chill of your lonesome apartment was becoming suffocating, and you remembered that take out in the fridge and the way one of his socks had ended up in your laundry last week. You remembered how you started keeping his favorite brand of beer in your fridge and how one of your pillows started to permanently smell like his aftershave.
He had a toothbrush in your bathroom. He had a key to your apartment. He had a space, here, in this lonesome apartment. And all you had to do was beckon to him, and he would come to fill it. Always.
“Can you come over?”
You don’t even have to explain yourself. He complies readily, whispers out a soft yes in the voice you’d also recognize even in death, and promises to be there within ten minutes.
He makes it within eight.
And you’re still leaning on your kitchen counter, your head still swimming dangerously with all the different ways you’d let down Nancy. Once upon a time, you might have worried about inviting him over, worried that your anxieties and your short-comings might bleed into your relationship with him. In the beginning, it had been simple enough. You kept him at an arm’s length away the moment you realized you couldn’t make yourself needed to him, not out of selfishness but out of fear. Fear, because if he didn’t need you, why would he stick around?
Because without need, if you did the wrong thing, there was no necessary thread tying them to you. Because without need, there was no chance for the day that you might find love in your grave robbings, and you couldn’t handle the thought of someone like Eddie Munson deciding you weren’t worth his time.
It hadn’t occurred to you for a very long time that maybe, possibly, you’d been going around the concept of love with a very wrong mindset.
Your safe place. That’s what the back of the van had become over these sticky summer nights – your safest refuge.
It was always the same scene; Eddie on his back beside you, lazily nursing a joint, while you sat up reading passages of the latest book you two had embarked on together. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes it was fantasy, and sometimes, it was just a reread. That night, it was a reread. The Hobbit.
“‘I don’t see that this will help us much,’ said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. ‘I remember the mountain well-’” you recited off of the page, when Eddie suddenly sat up abruptly and snatched the book from you.
“No, no, no!” he wagged his finger at you after he discarded his joint into the ashtray you’d made him start keeping in the fan, “Sweetheart, you’re doing the voices all wrong.”
You rolled your eyes at him, reaching to take the book back, “Not all of us have a Dungeon Master voice to whip out, Munson. Give it back.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Do I need to say please? I’ll say please.”
It was best like this. Just the two of you, away from everyone else. Some nights, the two of you hadn’t even needed a book to bond over. You’d just gaze at stars, or indulge in whatever weed he’d brought along with him. He never pressured you, though – if you shook your head at his offer of the joint, that was that. He seemed to apply that to most aspects of your friendship this last year.
You never had to prove anything to him. He saw your worth as if it were glaringly obvious, as if it were as simple of a concept as breathing. No extra effort needed from your end.
Just by being, you had managed to become something important to him. He needed you, if only because you were you.
“The puppy dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me,” he snorted, shifting so that his shoulder pressed against your own. A warmth spreads from the point of contact. “Let the master show you how it’s done.”
You tried to not let it show, but your grin was radiant. He was the master at those ridiculous voices, at theatrics and at bringing the story to life. You were transported from the shore of Lover’s Lake, in the back of that stuffy yet comforting van, to meadows of soft grass and hobbit holes of comfort. To a place where all the threats were mythical and all the expectations of you were released.
You’d spent the week helping Steve finish up his college plans. His parents had tried to pressure him into picking his top three universities, but the moment he had confided in you that he might prefer a community college to begin, you’d held his hand as you guided him through the process. A rewarding process, have no doubt, but it had left you numb and reeling. Sharing someone else’s stress, shouldering their burdens – it had been a bit much.
You needed this. You needed Eddie’s ridiculous voices and the sharp press of his shoulder against your temple.
“Falling asleep on me already?” he teased when he’d noticed how quiet you had gone.
“Never,” you lied through a yawn that quickly exposed you.
“Liar,” he huffed. You didn’t even need to glance up to confirm the smile you knew he wore. “We can head back home, if you need. I know it’s getting late-”
“No,” you quickly sat up, effectively making yourself dizzy, “No, I- It’s fine. I’m awake. I swear.”
“It’s okay that you were falling asleep,” he was quick to reach out, to tug you back down to his side, wrapping his arm around you to press you even closer than before, “I just don’t want to keep Cinderella out past Midnight.”
“It’s barely ten.”
“Nothing gets past you, Sherlock,” he scowled as you pressed your grin against his t-shirt clad shoulder, “I’m serious, though. Do I need to take you home?”
“No, Eddie. I’m good.”
“Swear it? Swear you don’t have an early shift, or some… some obligation?”
“No shifts, no obligations.”
“And if I just kidnap you for the weekend? Am I going to have an angry mob at my doorstep, demanding your service?”
You smiled wider at the thought. The idea of him hiding you away, letting you live in this reprieve for the entire weekend. It was a nice thought, “I certainly wouldn’t complain.”
And so the two of you sat there like that for an hour more. Eddie coming up with ridiculous tones for the various characters, you slipping in and out of consciousness as his warmth stayed wrapped around him. You don’t even notice when the warmth he’d planted in you finally covers up that hole inside of you, not even missing the absence of that emptiness until Eddie went quiet.
In the silence, you noticed it.
The gash you’d grown accustomed to, the hole that had become an extra limb for you. Vanished. Gone. Disappeared without a trace.
It was a sudden and terrifying realization. Everything in you urged you to jump up, to scramble around you to find the darkness again, like a comfort blanket you couldn’t stand to lose. You went against the instinct, though, and rose slowly from Eddie’s hold.
In lieu of scrambling, you peered at Eddie curiously. “Hey, Eds. Can I ask you something?”
He nodded sleepily, almost as drowsy as you. You’re shocked when he shifts and instead of pulling you back to him, he opted to lay his head in your lap.
That hole was still gone. The weight of his head on your thighs, the feeling of his breath on your bare thigh. For a moment, you can’t breathe.
You’re warm. Not uncomfortably so, but encapsulated with an internal warmth. Like a fever spreading, the ice in your spine that you had lived with for years had begun to thaw.
“Why do you keep me around?” you whispered, still sitting stiffly, staring in awe down at the way he just nuzzled his face into your lap.
With his eyes still closed, face smooth from any worry from the question, he mumbled, “What do you mean?”
You only hesitated due to the thought crossing your mind; what if you bringing this up reminds him?
You thought back to the night in Harrington’s kitchen. The push and the pull, the bloody battle and the way he still called.
He was not as delicate as you took him for.
“I- What do you get out of this?” you couldn’t figure out how to phrase it correctly. You knew what you got out of this, but what does he get?
“Get out of what?”
“Get out of keeping me around.”
His eyes finally opened, twisting in your lap so that he could stare up at you. “You say that as if you’re forcing me to be your friend.”
I could be, that nagging voice in your mind whispered. You could very well be forcing him, and just be blinded because you were enjoying the summer of warmth that he carried with him too much to let him go.
“You never let me do anything for you,” you sighed, fingers finding themselves tangled in his roots against better judgment. But you needed to touch him, to ground yourself, as you admitted this hard truth, “You do shit for me all the time. You drive all the way out to this lake just because I complain about everything being too much. You’ve started playing chauffeur for the kids to give me a break. Harrington said you even offered to look at college brochures with him. And…. And I’m not stupid, Eds,” your voice shook as you looked down at him, a sudden feeling of undeserving striking you in your chest, “You do so much for me lately. And you don’t ask for anything in return – you don’t let me do anything in return. Why?”
His smile twisted with a hint of sadness, and brown eyes met your gaze without so much as flinching, “Sweetheart, why do you think you have to repay me for that stuff?”
“I-”
“No, hear me out,” he reached up, taking your hand out of his hair and lacing his fingers with yours, slowly dragging it down to rest on his sternum, “I chose to do that stuff. And, yeah, maybe I was trying to take some of that shit off your plate. But you didn’t ask me to. I chose to. I wanted to do those things, do nice things for you, because you won’t let anyone else.”
You bit back a scoff, “I let people do nice things for me-”
“You really don’t,” his hold on your hand tightened, “You really, really don’t. You constantly…. You just, you take care of everyone else, but you act afraid to let someone take care of you. People are allowed to take care of you, too, y’know? You should let them. They love you – they want to take care of you, just like you take care of them.”
They love you.
The air drained from your lungs in a slow, silent sigh. You waited a few minutes, but the oxygen never replenished as you tried to grasp his words.
They love you.
Why would they love me?
“Why wouldn’t they love you, sweetheart?” Eddie looked more concerned now, suddenly prepared to sit up and remove his head for your lap. But his hand still held yours tightly, still clung to you, “You know they love you, right? God, you gotta know that. We all love you.”
You hadn’t realized you’d spoken the bitter thought out loud until he looked at you, utterly heartbroken, in complete disbelief. “I…”
No. I don’t know that. What have I done to deserve their love?
“They need me, sure,” you started, narrowing your eyes at the breaks in the waves of Lover’s Lake, “I mean, I just try to make myself useful to them. It’s the least I can do when I… when they…” you struggled to get the words out. You saw that hole again, like a light at the end of the tunnel, but so far from the relief most mean by that metaphor. Something peeking around the corner, ready to devour you all over again. So you plunged, you prepared yourself for it to spring to life and take you whole as you nearly whimpered, “When they put up with me. It’s the least I can do when they put up with me.”
“No one puts up with you,” Eddie’s voice cracked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. “Least of all me.”
The deadliest of blows. He cracked your hardened surface with that, shook the foundations of every belief you’d held for eternity.
“Most of all you,” you corrected without thinking, “God, I- Eddie, seriously. What reason do you have for keeping me around? I don’t know how the fuck you put up with m-”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” you’d never heard him beg so painfully before then, “Please. Don’t… You want to know my reason?” you nodded numbly, finally looking to find him with wet eyes and lips pressed into a fine line, “Because you’re you. I… Fuck, I love you. I keep you around because you’re you. You’re good for me. Whether you believe it or not. You’re good for me just by being you, and there’s nothing you have to do to accomplish that,” you started to look away before he grabbed your cheeks, turning you to face him as he emphasized each word, “You don’t have to earn love. That’s not what love is. Got it?”
You looked into his eyes, and saw all the soft declarations of love echoed back to you, even from the very start.
‘Sweetheart, you don’t owe me your time. And I don’t need monopoly over it for us to be okay.’
‘The world doesn’t end just because you don’t constantly make yourself available.’
The entire time you’d been so worried about taking care of everyone else, he’d been worried about taking care of you. Endless late night phone calls, careful check-ins when he saw the exhaustion take the frontlines, sparse fights about putting yourself first. The only thing he ever wanted from you was for you to take care of yourself.
While you were busy being there for everyone else, he was busy being there for you.
He never once made you dig to the bottom of his grave to find the warmth. He’d handed it over on a silver platter.
So how could you look him in his at that moment, and tell him that you didn’t ‘get it’? That you’d never been sure if what you were seeking from your friends was really love? That, really, you’d given up on being loved a long time ago, assuming it was asking too much?
How do you look him in his eyes in that moment and tell him you had long since declared yourself unlovable?
He didn’t make you say it. Only kept your cheeks pressed between his palms, as he leaned forward, forehead meeting yours and whispering words for only you, “I love you, no strings attached. You’re my… friend. I love you. Okay?”
No one had ever fought so valiantly to get the point across. Not just that night at the lake, but in the entirety of his friendship with you.
The hole slinked back behind the corner. The darkness decided it could wait another day. And in its place, warm brown eyes filled the void. Whether he even realized it or not.
You nearly believed him. Nearly. But you bit down hard on that belief, throwing it out of sight, and instead of echoing back the ‘okay’ you assumed he was seeking out, all you did was sob out another, “Why?”
When you collapsed into him, he held you. Your sobs remained dry, your confusion palpable as you clung to him and tried to let that belief envelope you like his arms had.
I love you.
How could someone love you?
He didn’t press it the way you thought he would. He didn’t scold you for continuing to question him and he didn’t lash out at your disbelief.
He just held you. Letting your face press into his neck as his fingers ran up and down your spine, giving it a moment before he started talking again.
“Your humor,” he hummed after a couple moments of silence, heavy breathing eventually evening out.
“What?”
“The way you take care of others,” he continued on like he hadn’t heard you, “That spark you get in your eyes when you tell someone about something good. A favorite book, movie, story from your day – whatever it is. The way you give the best hugs – and you don’t give me them nearly often enough. The way you snore, and the way you definitely deny snoring.”
You opened your mouth, about to lift your head and argue with him, but he just placed an encouraging palm on the back of your head to keep you close to him.
“The way your favorite color changes with the seasons. The way you only like artificial cherry flavoring, not the real stuff. The way you look at night when we’re driving and you’re just screaming your favorite lyrics. The way you look at me to see if a joke lands. The way you fuss about my wrinkled clothes, even when you also don’t care about the wrinkles in your own shirts. The way you take your coffee. The way you always offer to paint one of my nails to match yours. The way you treat your recipe for chocolate chip cookies like some top secret, government trade. But we both know it’s just some recipe from a cookbook you thrifted when you were ten. The way you get excited over the small things, like the cows we pass by on the way out here. They're always there, and you always point them out. The way you just… are.”
He didn’t have to say it. He was answering your question.
He was listing his whys.
“You don’t have to earn it,” he didn’t say the word, not this time. You felt it, “It just… it’s there. It’s there and it’s not going anywhere. I’ll remind you of that every day if I have to.”
Loved. For the first time ever, it felt like a possibility; to be loved.
Eddie always knocks on your front door a certain way – a pattern he rarely strays from. But you can always tell. He’s the only fool who would find humor in knocking out such an annoying compilation of hits on the wooden panels until you finally unlatch the lock and open it to find him standing in your threshold.
His hair is frizzy and in a low ponytail, wearing a baggy band shirt and plaid pajama pants. He greets you with such a wide smile, your chest aches.
“Hey there, sweetness.”
You don’t say a word, just drag him inside before you wrap your arms around his waist. Ever since that night, and his admittance of enjoying your hugs, you made a conscious effort to hug him more often.
“Miss me?” he chuckles, and you feel the vibrations against your cheek as you softly pinch his side. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him only laugh harder once you pull away.
“Not at all,” you snark back as you make sure the door is securely shut and properly locked.
“Not even a little bit?”
“Nope.”
He smacks a fist to his chest as if you had stabbed him with your words, “Ouch. You wound me, sweetheart.”
“Get over it,” you tease. Your head has finally stopped swimming, your chest no longer tight with the fear of not being enough. Nancy is long forgotten as you say, “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Depends,” he hums as he toes off his boots, “If you’re offering to buy me some, then no, I definitely did not eat spaghetti with Wayne right before you called.”
You throw your head back laughing as he’s already making a beeline for your kitchen, digging out that damned takeout menu and reaching for the phone, already so sure of your order.
Knowing your order at restaurants. Without having to ask. Apparently, that was part of the whole ‘being loved’ gig.
Adjusting has taken months. Since that night in Eddie’s van, he’d kept his word. Not a day went by without him finding a way to remind you, whether it be by direct words or small actions, that he loved you. You both kept it under that friendly guise. He loved you in that familiar way, the way the others supposedly loved you. A way you could manage to recognize some days.
Other days were still rough. Days like today were still rough.
The takeout is ordered and Eddie sets up camp on your couch, rambling about something that had happened during one of the DnD nights he still hosted with the kids. Something about a dumb decision Mike did that cost most of the group their character’s lives. You have a hard time following along, and he’s quick to pick up on it.
“Hey, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you lean into the back couch cushion, smooshing your cheek as you watched him animatedly speak.
“Hm?”
“Bad day?”
He never judged you for the rough days. He never judged you for the days you still couldn’t find the love, even after he worked so virtuously to show it to you. He may never understand it, that hollow ache that resided in your darkest corners and whispered that none of it was real, but it never deterred him.
He loved you on good days, and he especially loved you on bad days.
You consider lying to him, but you can’t. Not when he looks at you so earnestly, “Yeah. It… yeah.”
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks you, shuffling to be more comfortable where he sits as he motions for you to lay down. You do so immediately, head finding a home against his thigh and his fingers stroking over your cheek before they toy with the ends of your hair.
All you can do is shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about that fear of failing Nancy as a friend, especially when you know that wasn’t her take away from it. It felt silly now; all that overthinking, when you know now if you questioned her on it, all she would have seen from the day was a friend lending a caring ear. You know because you had asked her about it once, if she found your listening habits too callous, upon Eddie’s insistence.
She hadn’t. In fact, all she could do was thank you, had insisted that she was just grateful someone would listen to her ramblings. And you understood that, left it at that.
“Okay,” he murmurs, voice so quiet you nearly miss it. His fingers continue to play across your shoulders now, barely weighted against bare skin, “That’s fine.”
He didn’t mind if you didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t mind if you never spoke another word, if all you needed was him here. You just needed him close by and to sit with you, to make it all a little less much.
Nothing. He needed absolutely nothing from you, asked nothing of you. Because you didn’t have to earn this. All you had to do was simply be, and he would provide this.
Love. What an odd concept, to have found warmth in a grave you never even got the chance to dig your shovel into.
“Hey, Eddie?” his fingers pause at your croaking voice. You smile at his stillness, at the way he hums carefully in response, still trying to offer the silence you quietly begged for, “I love you.”
There’s more to unpack there. More than just familial love, more than just two friends that love each other without conditions. But tonight is not the night, and you both see that it is enough. There will be other nights to dig your claws in and to dissect what those three little words mean between you two. There will be other nights to consider how your other friends don’t have a permanent spare toothbrush on your bathroom counter or a space for their takeout in your fridge. But not tonight.
For tonight, this was enough. The quiet, and the warmth, the being was enough.
“I love you,” he emphasizes the last word, leaning down and his lips grazing your temple.
You notice the way he leaves off the too. He’d love you, even if you didn’t love him. You’d love him, even if he didn’t love you. Unconditional, no strings attached. A warmth you do not have to fight to earn. A rarity you never encountered before, and may never encounter again, but you have for tonight and for as long as he chooses to stick around.
Your shovel sits abandoned in a shed in the distance. Your fingernails are clean of the dirt. The graveyard, it seems, would go another night without its robber.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#yeah the archer has a chokehold on me#idk man this is scary to post a put... a lot of myself in here#my bad#3k celebration
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Some Rayne brainrot...
this is some stupid (and a bit horny??? no? yes? i don't know) stuff that went through my mind last night
MDNI PLEASE! this spawned in my head, no context
warnings: female reader, rayne is ooc and pervy, he is staring, dubcon (bit steamy at the end), bit of swearing, bit of horniness, mentions of boobies and peen...
i am very sorry, i wrote this with 0 hours of sleep. barely proofread. enjoy
Rayne Ames. The Divine Visionary, the Sword Cane.
If you watch animal documentaries, you are probably aware that cheetahs can stay in the same position for up to sixteen hours without moving at all…
Well, it so happens that Rayne’s facial expression is like a cheetah. He somehow always looks like you’ve told him a really bad pun, and he’s judging you for it (not funny, did not laugh). He probably even has this face on while he sleeps, eats, showers, and probably even while he decides to please himself.
And yet, despite looking annoyed every second of the day, despite looking like the unfriendliest guy in the whole Academy, he looks absolutely stunning. Anyone would agree that Rayne Ames is a feast on the eyes. And you, as his seatmate in class, aren’t one to deny this.
.....................................................................
It was your last class hour for today and you couldn’t wait to go back to your dorm room and rot in bed like the absolute lazybone you were. Changing out of your uniform was now an emergency, as the shirt you had picked today was somehow way too tight for you.
Being clueless with basic things such as laundry had its pros and cons. Sure, your clothes were smaller now and you could barely fit; but it made you look incredibly sexy! …or so you kept telling yourself. Maybe you were just trying to cope with the fact that you were incredibly bad at basic human tasks.
You made your way to the classroom and got your notebook out.
Today’s subject was pure theory, and you would’ve fallen asleep if you didn’t have the most scrumptious distraction sitting right next to you. You spent the hour doodling, taking notes whenever you paid enough attention to do so, and mostly throwing quick glances at your seatmate, Rayne, who was way too focused on the soporific theoretical experiments your elderly professor was passionately explaining, to pay attention to you.
When the old man turned around to write something on the blackboard, Rayne finally turned a fraction of his attention towards you. Of course, this happened during the minuscule amount of time you weren’t looking at him, and he took notice of a few things.
First of all, your notes were an absolute mess. Instead of trying to keep them consistent, you had picked a few words the teacher said, and chose to throw them into an adventure with other words, picked at different moments during class, resulting in an abomination that wouldn’t make sense, even to you. But you wouldn’t know, of course, since you never read your notes anyway.
He would give you bonus points for the adorable little bunnies you had been doodling for the majority of your time in class, though.
Secondly, you seemed like you were about to sleep, but given the way you were taking notes, everything sort of made sense. Not your notes though, only the fact that you weren’t invested enough to stay awake.
Third of all, your shirt. He wished his eyes hadn’t lingered for such a long time on it. Why was it so tight? “Is she so dumb she can’t even do laundry?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that the button that kept your shirt closed around the chest area had the strength of a thousand lions.
His eyes moved back to your face, and at this very moment, you chose to look at him. Your eyes met, and his expression was, as always, unreadable. Was he bored? Upset? Annoyed? At this point you were pretty sure he didn’t know any better. But it seemed a bit different this time, you could’ve sworn you saw his lower lid twitching slightly.
You decided to turn your attention back to the teacher— or at least pretend to, for a while, and it lasted for a whopping fifty seconds. Efforts had been made! You deemed yourself deserving of a little treat, and an attempt was made to look at Rayne once again.
His eyes were still on you. Now it really felt like he was upset. You were used to his icy glare but it was getting a little uncomfortable, and so, as one does, you had a great shitty idea. You decided that stretching your back could maybe help you release some of this discomfort, and your button, may it rest in peace, gave up on its sole task of keeping your shirt closed.
You couldn’t tell where it went at all. In fact, you didn’t even notice, but you did feel a little more comfortable now that your chest area was no longer being compressed, except it was in a literal meaning now, and not just figuratively speaking. You could still feel Rayne’s eyes on you, and decided that you wouldn’t look at him for the rest of this oh so boring class.
What you hadn’t noticed was that his eyes were no longer on your face, but rather on the missing button’s previous spot. “Is she so dumb she can’t take care of her clothing?”, he wondered to distract himself from the fact that he could now clearly see your bra.
He could see that one mesmerising spot where your breasts were pushing in a wondrous effort to get out of their insufferable lace prison. In fact, pretty much anyone could’ve seen it if they had turned around, but it seemed this professor was either hypnotic or soporific because everyone was staring in his direction.
You were then blissfully unaware of the fact that Rayne was now leading an internal battle. He had to get his eyes off of your cleavage, for your breasts were not the only things screaming for freedom anymore. Ah, perhaps Rayne was also bad at laundry, because his pants felt increasingly tight the longer he stared at you.
Divine Visionary or not, he was but a man, and what power does a man hold when presented with sweet bosoms? None. That’s right. He tried to think about anything else. Rabbits? His little brother, Finn? The concerning relationship Lance had with his little sister? The way alcoholism thrived amongst the ranks of the State police? No matter what went through his head, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.
He had to do something about it, and you were probably not escaping this one.
.....................................................................
As soon as the bell rang, he closed his coat as much as he could, and grabbed your arm before you could leave, and this time you could tell he was pretty upset. Why? How could you know? You didn’t know anything. Had your head not been attached to your shoulders, you would’ve probably lost it already.
Instead of giving you any sort of explanation, he immediately dragged you with him. Your life felt like a movie that was playing in front of your eyes. My time has come, you thought, but… not quite.
You found yourself in Rayne’s dorm room, locked in with him. His roommate wasn’t there, and it was clear this crime would leave no witnesses.
It took him half a second to remove his coat and— oh. You were suddenly in Egypt.
Everything was there: the stone hard pyramid, the Sphinx (that seemed ready to pounce on you), and the heat. Oh boy, the heat. As a very refined lady (yes you are), you brought your hand to your chest in indignation, and oh, how distraught you felt when you realised that your beloved chest button was nowhere to be seen. It was all starting to make sense.
Without a word, he pushed you against the wall and his lips met yours in a rough, steamy kiss. Your whole body felt like it was on fire; his toned chest was pressing against yours and breaking your buttons further, his clothed erection was slightly rubbing against your clit through your panties and his hands roamed your body hungrily while his tongue left no corner of your mouth unexplored.
It was all a lot to take in but it felt so intoxicating, the way his large hands held onto your hips to keep you from squirming too much underneath his passionate touch, and how his teeth were grazing against your lips while a mixture of both your salivas dripped from the corner of your mouth.
His body was grinding against yours like waves on the beach, and both your breathings were becoming increasingly noisy. Only after long, delicious minutes of this make-out session did he break the kiss, panting for air, as he looked into your eyes with a lustful gaze you were now used to seeing.
It wasn't your first time pushing his buttons like this, and it certainly wasn't your last.
“You did it on purpose, admit it.”
Whaaat, you? Pfffft, never! But… let’s just say you’re not usually that bad at doing your laundry.
.....................................................................
smol reminder that i am very bored and i also take requests for mashle, hsr, genshin, jjk, elsword, tower of fantasy...
xoxo
#rayne ames#rayne ames x reader#mashle x reader#mashle#rayne x reader#magic and muscles#anime#anime character#mashle smut#rayne ames smut#rayne smut
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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Business Ventures?” — Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo
Synopsis: just the best business investments—one that involves you, the owner and his bot best friend—and your desires<3
— word count: 1.4K
— a/n: in contraspect, this arose from my deep desires and I perhaps am speechless about it <3 (sorry for the shitty smut but I had to write it) (this is the fifth try please work😭)
— warnings: MDNI!!Fem Reader!! This is spire nasty smut honestly; p -> v sex; no sub-dom dynamics; scene set sort of in a brothel? Where Satoru is the owner; no use of protection (be smarter people); creampie; reader treated as an object(?); degradation and praise
Click-clack-click— the sound of their footsteps sounded through the small hallway, girls scrambling about around him- half naked, adorable and very fuckable.
“Come on in,” the grin that was spread across Satoru’s face—“you’ll love the new investment,,” not a look he passed back towards his best friend, Suguru—neither did he, too busy eye-fucking the side-chick that was clinging onto Satoru’s side.
“She’s new,” Satoru chuckled, referring to you, “but fuck she’s good and tight,” his eyes bounced on many girls zooming past them—hand carressing the ass of the girl next to him.
“Why’s she so special—I bet this one’s just as good,” a wide grin Suguru adorned as he said so—hands itching to reach out and touch her, “ah well,” Satoru coughed, “she’s mine—off-limits for you,”
And as if on cue, the girl leaned up on her toes, kissing Satoru’s cheek—giggling when he slapped her face slightly—“only in front of the clients doll—not my best friend,” a wink, “and our regular,”
A disgruntled scoff Suguru passed—“and the new one? She’ll be mine?”
“If she wants,”
A knowing look passed between Suguru and Satoru—“Last room down the hall, you’ll be the first one tasting her like this.”
“What, you won’t come with me to watch at least?” A smirk, Suguru knew the answer.
“If you insist,”
“You Better be good for her, she’s precious,” Satoru added in—“the best.” Suguru snickered.
-
“What the hell,”
Suguru couldn’t help but mutter out—the room was mostly empty, save for the hole in the wall beside them.
“Fuck here” a sign above it, neon and all so pretty in purple, it read.
“I’m actually fucked in the head in the right ways aren’t I?” Satoru cackled while Suguru couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea as well.
It was obvious to what it was—a glory hole, no doubt it would help Satoru and his business skyrocket— but fuck, it seemed so dirty an idea.
“Anyone there?” Suguru sounded out as a joke—but just at that, the gears worked, and there you were—ass and pussy sticking out of the hole.
A pretty little thing.
“Check her out,” Satoru’s words however, almost fell to deaf ears, for Suguru was already kneeling behind you—or specifically, down to face your pretty pussy and ass—pink with a puffy little clit—dying to be played with.
He could tell you were wet already, your pussy lips all so perfect and juicy for him—and it was true too, all so evident in the way your slick collected on his fingers the moment he pressed and spread around your folds.
You could feel the light touches, clenching at the way the foreign hand seemed to inspect you, it wasn't Gojo you knew were sure.
But just at that, another hand reached out—colder—ah, you were sure this was Gojo.
A sudden jump and flinch, your face burned at the way the two men—separated from you by a wall chuckled at your ministrations.
“She’s jumpy eh?” The first man, his voice softer, smoother—fingers still playing around your pussy.
“All the perfect ones are,” Gojo seemed to reply, wasting not a breath in reaching fingers down to your clit and pinching it.
“Be gentle Satoru,” the first voice seemed to speak out, it was gentler, softer? But it knew what it wanted— “fuck off Suguru, she’s ours, aren’t you pretty thing?” You moaned loudly at the way Satoru circled your clit.
But ah, there it was, the name—Suguru.
Suguru and Satoru.
The intentions were clear down right—where Suguru wanted to taste you, make you fall apart for him, Satoru was there to show you off—mark you.
“Who’s gonna fuck her first?”
“You’ve had your go once- I’ll do it,” you were sure his voice held an edge of dominance to it—a snicker from the other man you heard— “never gonna say no to free pussy huh?” Punctuating his words with a slap to your ass, you were sure he held a constant grin to himself.
And just like that, you were there at their disposal to be fucked as a glory hole—“look at the way she clenches Satoru,” and you clenched further still—sweat resting at your forehead as you felt his fingers finally touch your clit.
“Bet you’re tight huh?” Not a word you let out, choosing simply to moan as you felt his tongue land flat against your pussy- “fuck I’d stretch you out doll, but your pussy’s practically begging to be fucked like this,”
And just at that, the sound of a zipper going down entered your ears—so close, so so close—you could feel his tip rubbing against your folds, plap- plap- plap—he slapped his dick down on your pussy.
Slowly, steadily his tip came in contact with your opening, so eager that you were for him—tight and perfect.
In seconds you lay there, shamelessly moaning for him as he tried to make you comfortable —“a fuckin’ moaner aren’t ya?”
“You should hear her when you use your mouth on her,” Gojo grinned—the sound of his moans as he stroked himself filling the room just as well—“she’s a god damn dream,”
How embarrassing, spread open for the two men—being fucked and watched—such a needy slut that you were.
Suguru kept his rhythm simple, your eyes rolled back in the way his tip rubbed against your gummy walls, the slight bend to the left, almost as if he was mending you walls to accommodate for his length.
“Y’er s’tight doll—m’not gonna last long,”
You clenched at him harder right then—hoping he’d cum sooner for you.
You bit down at your lips, the constant pressure of his hips slapping against your ass—the way you were just an object—you knew Suguru wasn’t bothered about your pleasure or release—you were a mere glory hole after all.
You loved it.
And soon enough, the thrusts turned sloppy, faster—you could feel his dick twitching inside of you—so close.
“Shit- m’close,” he grunted—a sharp slap landing on your ass, “do I cum inside of her?”
It wasn’t your choice either—no, he was asking Satoru- your owner.
“Yes ‘course, she’s a fine doll—perfect to be bred,”
You squealed as right at the end of his statement, you felt him gush in—it felt sticky, hot, he shot into you— thick ropes, Suguru didn’t bother pulling out either—making sure that your cunt remained stuffed, filled with his cum.
Hot breaths passed out as You felt Suguru finally pull out- whining at the sudden emptiness, another chuckle the boys let out.
“My turn,” the eagerness in his voice was all so obvious you could’ve found it almost endearing—had it not been this filthy an interaction.
you’d experienced him before — just as good he’d been too.
Your hole clenched around nothing as his warm breath fanned on your clit—“shit dude, you stretched her out already—but she’ll be fun still, won’t you?”
The answer wasn’t needed, he was satisfied with the jiggle of your ass as he squeezed it firmly.
Always the impatient one, he wasted no time, slipping in all so easily—he was thinner, longer—just as hard in the way he thrusted into you, and far more vocal.
Where Suguru was all grunts and curses, Satoru moaned the same as you—eliciting an especially pornographic moan as he entered you—“you’re so warm inside princess,”
“She is, isn’t she? Fucking perfect,” you heard the other boy speak—all so aware of the to set of gazes at as Satoru chuckled while inside of you.
“I’m telling ya, she’s the best slutty thing ever,” you couldn’t help but moan louder, it felt so degrading to be used this way but fuck, it only made you wetter.
Satoru made sure to hit the spots inside, deep—where Suguru was rougher, meaner it was almost as if Satoru only wanted to tease you and please you—“you’ll cum with me right princess? We’ll cum together yeah?”
You were sure he’d already been at edge all the while Suguru was using you anyways—you didn’t mind how fast his orgasm arrived, hell you could beg for him to fill you too.
It was in the way that both the men continued cooing and talking about you—in the way satoru thrust into you, all the while slapping and circling, pinching and playing with your clit too.
It was in the way you could cry from all the pleasure.
Both of you moaned simultaneously—until you felt his dick twitch and throb inside you—and just at that, you finally let go—mind going blank for a second too long as he continued thrusting.
Caught off guard, Satoru couldn’t do much when he came into you—stuffing you once more with cum.
Right as he pulled out, you could feel his fingers at your opening again, pushing all the cum inside you—to secure you.
“I swear to god if she gets pregnant-”
“It’ll be fun finding out who’s it is heh- and anyways,”
A sharp slap landed on your pussy, you cried out-unsure of who it was, “she’s meant to be used like this.”
All of this work is original and entirely my own please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk#geto suguru#gojo x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru#suguru geto#getosuguru#getou x reader#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen geto#jjk geto smut#suguru geto smut#geto smut#getou suguru smut#geto suguru smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo saturo#jjk gojo smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo smut#satoru gojo#satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#satoru smut
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💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.
💞 — diluc , zhongli , beidou , deuce , jamil , rook
💞 — gender neutral reader
💞 — a little suggestive in beidou's and rook's
🩷 — DILUC RAGNVINDR.
He loves when you come visit him in the tavern. Regrettably, he is far too busy to spend hours and hours with you, so these little attempts of yours are extremely endearing. Most already know not to take that spot by the counter where you tend to sit. Sometimes you’ll read, draw—perhaps write about your love for Diluc, and he just finds it so endearing. He’ll refill your drink without question and occasionally lean his arms over the countertop to talk with you, “You seem invested in that story,” he’d say, his expression neutral as ever. He couldn’t hide the love in his eyes though, “Take a break from reading. I’m free for a bit now.”
🩷 — ZHONGLI.
Archons, when you rest your head in his lap—he just loves it. It’s a common occurrence at this point. He’ll take you to the most beautiful landscapes in Liyue, and as he sits on the grass, you instinctively take it as permission to rest your head on his thighs. You look up at him with such admiration and curiosity as he speaks the histories of generations in that deep voice of his. His hands find their way into your hair and along your cheek, tracing down your jawline and to your collar, “It’s as if your curiosities can never quelled,” he teases, softly, “I wouldn’t mind more of your questions if it means we can be like this for a moment longer.”
🩷 — BEIDOU.
Her favorite thing to watch is your dancing on the ship's deck. Whether it be a soft sway in your hips whenever you’re sweeping or if it's while the crew celebrates with music, she’s locked onto you as you dance. In the late nights while the crew drink, dance and sing, she’ll wrap her arms around you from behind, hiding her face in the crook of your neck and nibbling the skin, “You dance so beautifully,” she’d mutter, her voice slurred. She probably drank more than the crew combined. Her cheeks are flushed from the proximity and the alcohol. A soft chuckle comes from her lips and she bites your neck, “Let’s go dance in private, sweetheart.”
🩷 — DEUCE SPADE.
His heart races just a little faster whenever you praise him for his grades. Deuce has been trying his best to be a better man for you and his mother. One of the qualities on this list is academic excellence, since he didn’t do very well at all in middle school, and one thing that keeps him going is your praise. After an exam, he’s quick to push Ace out of the way to stand before you, holding his test grade in front of you. It’s just a bit above average, thanks to his rigorous studying with you, “Look—I’ve never seen such a high percentage on one of my tests,” he tells you, cheeks flushed and he seems a bit bashful as he looks down, “Thank you so much.”
🩷 — JAMIL VIPER.
There aren’t words to describe how thankful he is to you for taking care of him. He’s often stuck caring for more than he is appreciated for. It’s always rare that he gets to relax, and he does it often in your presence. A soft sigh escapes his lips as you roll the cool jade roller along his cheek after rubbing some serum on his face. His arms were loosely around you while you stood in between his knees. He was sitting on the counter while your hands delicately applied things to his skin. He stopped you and rested his head on your shoulder, “Let’s stay like this for a moment, hayati (my life),” he muttered. He didn’t say anything else and just rested there.
🩷 — ROOK HUNT.
That little flinch that you do whenever he suddenly touches you brings him glee. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you with a kiss on the cheek or a quick grab of your hips to watch you jump a little and gasp. When you see him, you blush and make a playful remark about how he shouldn’t just surprise you like that. He’d laugh in return and place his hands on your waist and tug you closer to him, till your body was flush against his, “Oh, mon ange (my angel)... you and I both know you enjoy my surprises,” he murmurs as his hands trail from your waist down to your hips. He squeezes them a little and raises a brow, “You’re quite sensitive, non?” he teases in response to your breath hitching.
#💖 — amoris writes#twisted wonderland#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#diluc ragnivindr x reader#beidou x reader#zhongli x reader#jamil viper x reader#deuce spade x reader#rook hunt x reader#rook hunt#deuce spade#jamil viper#diluc#beidou#zhongli#twst x reader#genshin x reader
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a weak heart | rafayel x reader
“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!”
How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny.
Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.
cw: reader has she/her pronouns, fluff, light angst, rafayel being bratty but also down incredibly bad
word count: 1.4k
There’s a dip in the bed that alerts Rafayel to her presence. He’d already known she was inside, even though her footsteps were hushed. He’d heard her walk in and feed Reddie, and he almost gave up the vow he made to himself not to engage with her just so he could snark about how she was more invested in seeing the fish than in seeing him.
(Of course, she very well may have gone to the studio to look for him and decided to feed Reddie while she was already in there, but. He doesn’t want to be reasonable right now. He wants to be upset with her. And she gives him so little to get upset with because she is and always has been some kind of angel descended from the heavens with an embarrassingly weak heart, so he needs to take whatever chances he can get.)
A soft touch to the back of his neck is followed by a quick kiss to his cheek. “Rafayel?”
He doesn’t answer.
“I know you’re awake, Raf.” Well, his eyes are open so. Great observation, idiot. “You’re not even gonna talk to me?”
The window he’s staring through is so fascinating all of a sudden, all bright and stale with an afternoon light he’s painted a billion times. Literally a billion. That’s how old he is. One would think he’d learned to be patient in that time, but one would also think that after waiting for a woman for centuries, she could cut him some slack and not make him wait any longer.
(Not that she knows that but. Still.)
“It was really last minute.” She kisses his cheek again, hovering over him and he wants so badly to gaze up at her, because that will be something he’s never painted before—he’d title it Requiem For A Bland Thursday and Thomas would sell it for a couple hundred million and he’d tell her that and she would only ask him to buy her a rainbow popsicle because there isn’t a greedy bone in her body.
“I was going to text, Raf, I promise I was, but I’d pulled a night shift already and my phone was dead and Xavier and I both left our chargers at home, and we didn’t have a chance to stop and charge anyways.”
Always an excuse. Always a valid excuse that he can find no fault with. But it isn’t fair. The people she works with—Tara, Xavier, Captain Jenna who she’s definitely a little in love with—get her attention and her time every hour of every day. If there’s a mission to do, she’ll drop everything and do it. And Rafayel gets the crumbs, the vacation days and the after hours, whenever she remembers him enough to spare her time.
What’s worse than that is the fear. He doesn’t let it show through text, always opting to send whatever he thinks will make her smile, but everytime hours pass without a response from her, fear seizes his poor heart. All the twisted and cruel things that could possibly happen to her start playing on repeat in his head.
“Rafayel,” she pleads, tilting her forehead against his temple. “Please, look at me?”
His chest burns hot.
When he finally looks up, he finds he’s absolutely correct in his hunch. She presents like a masterpiece, hair mussed from whatever fights Xavier clearly couldn’t protect her from. Her eyes shine tiredly, lighting up when they gaze into his. And Rafayel’s heart releases a painful thump, thump, thump because if he could spend eternity with her looking at him the way she is now, he’d easily live the rest of his immortal life the happiest person in the universe.
She leans down and pecks his lips apologetically. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
(It’s what she always does.)
“It’s what you always do,” he says, not harsh but definitely blasé enough to make her wince. “Why should this time be any different?”
A sigh escapes her, and he starts to feel that old guilt again. To hold her up to a standard because he fell in love with two other versions of her, and to give her grief for being late as though she wasn’t doing an incredibly important job keeping people safe—it’s not exactly fair. To either of them, but specifically to her.
And yet, it’s not like he spends his time with her imagining a princess running through the sands calling his name. This version of her makes his heart pound all the same, whether she’s absolutely beating his ass at the card game in the cafe, or resting her head on his shoulder from behind while he paints, or when she’s in his bed just like this.
The biggest similarity is that damn sick bleeding heart.
“What do I need to do for you to forgive me?” She tilts his chin up with her index finger, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. Rafayel could never imagine being spoiled like this even if he was to be sitting on the throne in Lemuria right now, with jewels and gold surrounding him and beautiful maidens offering their hands.
Somehow, this is more. Somehow, this is better.
“There’s nothing you can do,” he answers flatly, “and there’s nothing I can do. So let me be mad at you in peace.”
Her response is to brush the bangs from his forehead and drop a kiss to his forehead as well. “You make me feel like I’m in high school all over again,” she teases quietly, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips now. “My teenage dream.”
He groans. “Don’t—“
“Let’s go all the way, tonight, no regrets, just love,” she sings, and her voice is a little pitchy but Rafayel could listen to it all day, “we can dance, until we die, you and I, we’ll be young forever!”
How very wrong she is about that last part. It’s almost funny.
Someone with such a weak heart shouldn’t be this cocky.
“Is this my punishment?” His nose wrinkles. “To hear you sing terrible renditions of already overplayed songs?”
Her giggle is the real music to his ears. “You’re an artist, you should know talent when you hear it.”
“I do,” he insists, realizing too late that he’s giving in. The lightness in his stomach is a bit frightening too. This is the same woman who carved out his heart. This is the same woman who needed to do nothing but flutter her lashes at him to make him give in to her any request. If, tomorrow, she were to ask him to rip his own scales from his body and place the bloody pieces in her palm, he’d do so without question.
Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek and he leans into it with a soft sigh almost on instinct. Such power she possesses, over the God of the Sea, and she’s the only person who would never even fathom abusing it.
“You’re cold,” she murmurs, caressing his cheek. “Why do you always keep your house so cold?”
(So that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can warm him up so that she can—)
“It’s better for blood circulation.”
Her thumb gently brushes over his lower lip, like she’s mapping out her quest to treasure. “That’s like, objectively not true, Raf. My friend’s a doctor, he told me that cold is better for short-term pain and warmth is better for—“
“If you’re cold,” he interrupts, “get under the sheets.”
A brilliant, blinding smile lights up her face as she does just that, slipping under next to him and laying down at a slightly elevated level so she can tuck his head into her chest. Warmth runs through him like a flood, even the leather of her uniform is comforting because it’s smooth and light and smells just like her. Her lips press to the top of his head.
“I really am sorry,” she whispers, running her fingers through his hair, “I’ll do my best to text you and let you know next time, okay?”
And if she doesn’t, Rafayel thinks, curling into her more, they will still end up like this, quiet words and mutual teasing, memories of the past that he will forever be cursed by and she will never be burdened with, a heart that dances to the tune of her commands, wrapped up in each other, and absolutely nothing will change.
Because who really has a weak heart?
(It’s not her.)
#love and deepspace#l&ds#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc#rafayel#valkyrie stories
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hits different — ethan landry
word count: 1,464
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: ethan starts to feel insecure in his relationship with y/n so he breaks up with her, leaving her a mess for the first time.
author’s note: i literally wrote this in ten minutes. i don’t know why i write faster when it’s not a request 😫 i hate myself. i promise i’m working on the requests but i’m having writer’s block with them 😬.
Y/N HAD A REPUTATION THAT PRECEDED HER. She only had had one boyfriend, and moved on pretty quickly with another guy. She hadn’t been in a serious relationship since, just mere casual Kens she would switch and then ghost after a couple of weeks of dating.
Hence why Chad was so hesitant when the girl told him her and Ethan were going on a date. “Y/N, why him? He’s the sweetest guy ever, I don’t want you to break his heart”
“Chad, he’s not a baby” Y/N laughed. “He knows how this works, and he was the one who asked me out. So, relax”
“Fine, just be nice” Chad warned her.
“I’ll be extra nice” she winked, making him do a face of disgust.
“Ready?” Ethan asked nervously as he walked down the stairs. He was wearing one of his adorable collared shirts, jeans and a jacket. “You look beautiful”
“Thanks, Eth” she blushed, and Chad looked at her in surprise. Y/N blushing? That was new. “You look very handsome, as always”.
“Okay. Bring him before curfew, okay?” Chad said jokingly.
“Of course, sir. I’ll bring him before midnight” she followed the act.
“Stop it you two. Let’s go, Y/N/N” Ethan grabbed his date’s hand and led her through the door.
Soon after their date, they started dating. Everyone noticed there was something different with Y/N this time, she actually seemed invested in the relationship. No one could deny that sparks flew around the couple every time they were together.
As it had always been before, people still flirted with Y/N—only she didn’t seem to be interested. She would always brush everyone off. Yet, Ethan couldn’t help but feel insecure. In his eyes, everyone was a better match than him and he was waiting for the time Y/N would walk towards him and tell him their time was over. So, instead of being brave and express his fear, he chose the cowardly route and broke things off before she could.
Gossip travelled fast, and no one could believe it until Y/N’s appearance pretty much gave it away. No one had ever seen her in such devastating demeanour after a break-up.
“It’s okay, Y/N. Love is a lie, anyways” one of her friend told her. “There’s a party tomorrow, why don’t you come? It could help you get your mind off… things”.
Y/N sighed “I’ll think about it”.
SHE DID END UP GOING TO THE PARTY, ONLY TO WASH HER HANDS OFF THE MEMORIES OF THE FAILED RELATIONSHIP. She planned on gluing herself to the drink table and drown in alcohol until she could forget about the tall boy with brunette curls that haunted her mind all day.
“Oh, okay. Holy shit” Chad said when he caught her drinking a can of beer in one sip “He really made a mess of you” he whispered.
“What?” Y/N shouted, not being able to hear because of the music. “Wait… Chad! What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming”
“Oh, you’re very drunk, jesus” he muttered. “Yeah, I came with E-“ Chad stopped himself, definitely not a good idea to say his name.
But Y/N wasn’t dumb, she knew exactly what he was going to say “With Ethan. Where is he? No! Actually, please don’t tell me. I don’t want to know if he’s with other girl… but is he? Oh god, I’m going to throw up”
Chad held her hair as she kneeled in front the nearest toilet. “I’ve never seen you like this… moving on was always easy for you”
Y/N started crying “Because they were not him, Chad. It hits different because it’s Ethan”
“Okay, okay. You’ll be fine” he hugged her as she sobbed. “Where are your other friends? The ones you came with?”
“They left me, said I was slurring his name too much”
“Do you want to go home?” Chad asked.
She was about to respond when the tune that started to sound caught her attention. It was Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! by Abba. The song she and Ethan always sang their lungs out to while they drove around the city. “They’re playing our song, Chad”
“Oh, god. We’re definitely going”
“Nothing has ever felt so wrong. Why did he break up with me? I though he would be the one” her glossy eyes and crest fallen expression made Chad feel sad.
“I don’t know, Y/N. I thought the same thing” Chad said in all honesty as he guided her to his car. He laid her on the backseats and closed the door.
“Chad? What are you doing?” Ethan looked at him confused. “You forced me to come to this party and now you’re leaving?”
“It’s an emergency”
“What’s wrong? Who is in the backseat?” Ethan asked confused.
“Um… it’s Y/N”
Ethan froze, the mention of her name made him vulnerable “Is she okay?”
“She’s just drunk… she threw up. I’m taking her home”
“I’m going with you” Ethan said, walking to the passenger seat.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t know why you broke up with her, and is not the best time to discuss it, but she’s hurting a lot”
“She is?” his voice already unstable.
“Yeah. Look, if you are coming to fix things, then get in. If you plan on going just to leave again, please don’t” Chad said. “I’m just going to say this, pretty much everyone in college noticed it, but she loves you, Ethan”.
Ethan didn’t hesitate to open the door and get inside the car. He had been stupid, but he was going to explain himself and hope Y/N would take him back.
Y/N WAS SLEEPING ON HER ROOM, AND ETHAN WAITED ALONE IN THE LIVING ROOM, REHEARSING THE SPEECH HE HAD MENTALLY PREPARED. And then his attention was caught by an artifact laying on the furniture, next to the TV. It was the necklace he had gifted her on her birthday, it had a locket the shape of a heart and inside was a picture of them. He took it in his hands delicately and cried. He cursed the space he thought he needed—he missed her more than words could describe.
“I cried over your hat the other day” Y/N’s voice resonated in the room. Ethan brushed the tears off and looked at her, even with her mascara all smudged and her messy hair, she was still the most gorgeous girl he had set his eyes on. “I suppose you’re here to talk… and although a part of me is just in desperate need of kicking you out, I want to know what went wrong. Because I’ve been trying to make it make sense ever since you walked out from here that night, but I just can’t”.
“That’s because you did nothing wrong. It’s all me, in my head” Ethan finally said, putting his hand on the cushion next to him, signalling her to sit down.
“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting next to him. It had been so long since they were this close. She missed those eyes and hair she had only been seeing in her dreams.
“I got insecure… every popular, handsome guy would flirt with you and I just thought… that’s it. Y/N is going to realize she’s out of my league and leave me. And I couldn’t bare to listen to that…”
“So you broke up with me?” Y/N asked in disbelief.
Ethan nodded, absolutely embarassed “I know I basically put you in jail for something you didn’t do. But the voices in my head were so loud… I’m sorry about how I handled things”
“I understand” she said after a while.
“You do?”
Y/N nodded “I just wished you’ve talked to me, so I could tell you that you’re the one that I want. I would’ve fought your doubts and show you that I love you, only you”
“I’m sorry that I hurt you” his voice broke. “Will you forgive me?”
“Only if you promise me you’ll come to me when you have these thoughts” she said, grabbing his hand.
“I promise” Ethan intertwined their fingers “Are you still mine?”
“I’m still yours” Y/N smiled and climbed onto his lap to give him a hug. They both cried in each other’s arms. “I love you, Eth”.
“I love you too” he smiled against her chest. “Not that I don’t enjoy your hugs, but why aren’t you kissing me right now?”
“Because I threw up a couple of times” she laughed. “I’m going to take a shower”.
“Okay, I’ll make you something to eat” Ethan smiled, not getting the hint.
“Babe, I’m kind of inviting you to join me”
And then Ethan took her hand and dragged her upstairs so fast they almost tripped.
#ethan landry#ethanlandry#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry drabble#ethan landry fic#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x reader#scream iv#scream fanfic#scream 6#scream movies
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video games - takuma ino
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
word count: 11.6k
warnings: mentions of blood, drinking
summary: ino has been infatuated with his non-sorcerer roommate since day one. but he's convinced she couldn't feel the same way.
more info: roommate!au, friends to lovers, gojo hits on you but it's for the greater good
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ it’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you // everything i do // i tell you all the time, heaven is a place on earth with you // tell me all the things you wanna do ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
How Takuma Ino ended up with a non-sorcerer roommate wasn’t as interesting of a story as his colleagues always thought it would be when they’d first find out. They were always so eager for the details- was she his girlfriend? Did she know about his career and lifestyle? Was she cute? How did they meet?- and even though Ino would often laugh sheepishly and duck his head to hide his smile, the truth just wasn’t that exciting.
The truth was that as fun as being a jujutsu sorcerer was, it didn’t pay well. So he needed a roommate in order to better afford rent. One ad led to another, and soon (y/l/n) (y/n) was showing up asking for a tour. It only took one visit for her to decide to move in, and they’ve been roommates for the better part of a year now.
Ino always leaves out the part where he didn’t believe she’d actually agree to join the lease with him- when she’d shown up at his door he figured she’d only asked for a tour to be polite. In his mind there was just no way that a young woman as beautiful and hard working in her field needed a roommate- much less some random dude like him. She’d been so friendly and easy going upon their first meeting and they seemed to click just right, so she’d shook his hand and set a move-in date that very day. When she’d left, Ino had collapsed on his sofa with a beer and a bewildered laugh to himself. Even now, he’s not sure how he managed to make it happen.
“You wanna order chinese? I don’t feel like cooking”
(y/n’s) call from the other side of the room drew him out of his thoughts, and he glanced over the back of the couch to see her rummaging through the pantry. Logic reared it’s head, reminding him that they’d just bought groceries so they should probably save the money and eat at home tonight.
But then she gave him that hopeful little smile that he couldn’t help but return before nodding his head. Logic never won in a battle against something (y/n) wanted.
“Sure” He agrees through his smile.
By the time she’s dressed in her comfy lounging clothes, he’s already called their usual place and made an order. He’d long since memorized her go-to order and was usually the one put in charge of calling. He never minded. How could he complain when everything about their situation was just so perfect?
The roommate of his dreams, she was. Tidy, quiet, a great cook, and one of the most pleasant people he’s ever gotten to know, Ino truly believed he struck gold when (y/n) answered his ad. So even when his colleagues teased him for his living situation, he could hardly care.
And tease him they did. Gojo was the main assailant. Often joking about how strong Ino must feel all the time, being in the presence of a weak non-sorcerer human. How she must think he was some superhero compared to all the lame human men she’d meet at her job or through her friends. How Ino must be so lucky to have a young lady as his roommate. Still, no matter how much he messed around, Ino knew that there was no harm in Gojo’s words. And he also knew that if he’d actually met (y/n), he’d shut his ignorant mouth.
Nanami didn’t invest himself too much in Ino’s private life, he was simply respectful and reserved like that, but on occasion he’d been known to ask about his roommate. Mostly situational to their occupation- such as what she thought of the nasty cuts and bruises he’d come home with- but once in a blue moon he’d make a comment suggesting it was only a matter of time before one of them developed feelings. Ino always flustered under the light of those questions and found a way to avoid them.
In the few times throughout his week that he’d cross paths with Shoko, she always made a point to ask about his roommate. Which was sort of odd, seeing as her work in the infirmary didn’t make them the closest of colleagues, but at first the casual conversation was welcomed. But it was only a matter of time before she, too, would begin pestering him about making a move on her.
They all seemed to have the same underlying message. How could you share a living space with someone and not catch feelings for them? And Ino spent a lot of his time and energy trying to convince them that it simply wasn’t like that. Just because they both happened to be single, and close friends, and sharing a small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean that romantic feelings were bound to happen. They were both adults, they could live in such a situation and keep their hands and hearts to themselves.
He was a liar, though.
Takuma Ino had fallen completely, head over heels in love with his roommate, and there was no chance of him ever getting over that feeling.
It had taken relatively no time for the feelings to develop. Shortly after her moving in, she’d made an effort to be close to him. There wasn’t a moment where he felt like she wanted space or privacy away from him. She often offered to help him cook, or invited him grocery shopping with her, or out to a movie she wanted to see, and a fast friendship blossomed. The way she always reached out to include him had him swooning in no time.
Coffee runs, movie nights, and frequent texting throughout their days before they both came home all snowballed into one undeniable truth. He was falling in love with her.
When Ino had first realized that’s what was happening when his heart would leap out of his chest when she’d scoot close to him on the couch so they could share a blanket while they watched a movie or played a game together, he’d tried to bury it. Because surely his mind was just playing tricks on him. Surely he was just excited that a pretty and kind girl like her wanted to be so close to him, and his feelings were strictly platonic.
But then he found himself relaxing just from the smell of her shampoo wafting close to him. He realized that when he would come home from a late assignment and she’d be waiting for him that his heart was skipping a beat because it was just so perfectly domestic. He couldn’t deny it for too long at all, not when she so sweetly saved him the leftovers from her dinner and would heat it up for him while he showered and de-stressed from the particularly rough assignment.
The only problem was that he knew she didn’t feel the same way, and he’d been struggling to keep his true feelings hidden. From her, and from his pesky fellow sorcerers.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
(y/n) hated when Ino came home late from his assignments.
Not because the squeak door woke her up, or because it meant she was alone taking care of the evening chores. It was simply because she’d stay up every time, too consumed with anxiety to go to sleep without knowing he’d returned safe and sound.
Which, in all fairness, he always did. He always came home, and most of the time he’d shoot her a message saying he’d wrapped up with work and was on his way- even when it was one in the morning- like tonight.
She waited up on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket with the title screen of a movie she’d watched hours ago playing it’s intro for the thousandth time. In all fairness she knew he could handle himself, and he’d never not come home, or come back with life threatening injuries.
That didn’t mean he didn’t come back hurt, and that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fuss over him, every single time.
And tonight when he finally stumbles into the apartment, just as the clock ticks past two, she’s practically gnawing at her nails as she rushes towards him.
Despite the way he limps, and there’s blood trickling out of his nose, he gives her a smile, and he’s the first to worry.
“It’s late, you should be in bed” He scolds without any real threat to his words. This routine had established itself months ago, and he knew damn well that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep until she knew he was safely returned home.
Still, he worried about something as silly as her sleep schedule every time.
“Shut up” Is all (y/n) mumbles, beckoning him further into their apartment, until he’s following her to the bathroom.
She’s faster than him, pulling out the well loved first aid kit and getting everything prepped and ready on the counter while he slowly staggers in behind her. It was practically the same scene every time he came home like this. No matter how beat up he was- with a mere scratch or bloodied to a pulp- she was forcing him to sit down on the lid of the toilet seat so she could tend to his injuries herself.
Ino wasn’t sure if it was for her own well being and comfort, knowing that she’d taken care of him and none of his injuries would get infected. Or if maybe she just didn’t trust him to take care of them himself, maybe she knew that his idea of first aid was slapping a hello kitty band aid on it and calling it a night.
(There was one instance a few months ago where he’d left a hello kitty band aid on the back of his hand that she’d so lovingly placed there, and Gojo didn’t let him hear the end of it for the entire day. Not that Ino minded. Every time he caught a glimpse of the pink band aid it brought a smile to his face remembering how gentle she’d been covering the cut underneath, how her thumb had stroked over the sticker so lightly to ensure it was well placed and would do the trick. He left that band aid on his hand for as long as he could before eventually it lost his adhesive and in turn he lost it)
Either way, he never tried to talk her out of tending to him. Even when he knew it was too late for her to be staying up just to clean up some silly injuries that were nothing compared to the things that Shoko healed with her Reverse Cursed Technique- but he’d never tell (y/n) about the broken bones or brushes with death. He’d just keep his mouth shut and sit on that toilet seat while she soaked a cotton pad in antiseptic and gently dabbed at the cuts on his arm.
“Sorry”
She’d mumble the apology every time she’d make first contact with the injury, knowing how the alcohol tended to sting. And every time, Ino would give her a small smile and tell her it was alright.
“How was your day?” He hummed as she continued to clean up the few cuts on his arms. She had his sleeve rolled all the way up and tucked carefully at his shoulder so it wouldn’t be a hindrance. She hummed thoughtfully before shrugging a shoulder.
“Pretty boring, nothing of note,” She murmured back truthfully. “Until now” She adds, her eyes meeting his just so he’d catch the hint of reprimand in her tone.
Ino can’t help but chuckle to himself, he’d forever be amused by the way she worries over him. She may have been new to the world of jujutsu sorcery, but it never failed to humor him how she’d fuss and worry over such minor injuries. Injuries that Shoko wouldn’t treat even if Ino walked into the infirmary and begged for it. Surely he’d be laughed at.
“So you’re saying I’m the highlight?” He teases quietly, and (y/n) rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny it. She chooses the safe route and keeps her focus on her handiwork. He still laughs at her obvious non-answer. “Work was alright, though?”
“I suppose,” She answers. “Got home early because some people in my department were going out and convinced my boss to join, so they let us all leave early. That was nice”
Ino gave her a small frown, but it went unnoticed.
“How come you didn’t go?”
Her eyes briefly flicker up to his, and she purses her lips before shrugging her shoulders in a small movement.
“Wasn’t really in the mood,” She says, and it’s not a total lie, but she averts her eyes shortly after, reaching out to the first aid kit on the counter again. She fishes around a bit before finding the package of square shaped band aids. “Besides, I didn’t know when you’d be back” She added.
It deepens his frown, but she’s completely avoiding his gaze now. He expects as much, seeing as he’s had this conversation with her before. He encourages her to go out with her friends more, or make new friends at work to hang out with, and she always has an excuse at the ready. Sometimes her reasoning was decent, but most of the time it was obvious she came up with them on the spot, and it made his heart sink.
Of course he wanted her around all the time, pushing her away was absolutely a struggle for him, but Ino knew that if they continued only spending time with one another, then his feelings would never go away. It would be hard, but tremendous help if she made a new best friend, or better yet a boyfriend, and then he’d have to get over her, he was sure.
“You shouldn’t avoid your friends cause of me,” He tells her quietly. “It’s late, you could’ve gone out… if you wanted to”
After placing a band aid on his skin and smoothing down the corners so it stayed intact, she glanced up at him. A small knot formed between her brows before she cracked a goofy smile.
“They’re not my friends, Ino,” She chuckles at him. “They’re coworkers. I see them plenty enough, I don’t need to hang out with them outside of work- where we would probably still only talk about work”
As far as excuses went, it was a pretty damn good one. So this time he gave in, smiling and nodding back at her in understanding.
“Guess that’s fair,” He mumbles, and she laughs quietly again as she opens up another band aid. “I just… I dunno, I don’t want you missing out of stuff, that’s all”
“I think I’m old enough to decide what I want to do with my time,” She teases, her cheeks warming at the insinuation in her admission. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be”
His heart skips a beat, and as lovely as the feeling is when his stomach flips, Ino wishes she wouldn’t say stuff like that. It gave his heart the wrong idea, and it was hard to fight with his heart. He was convinced his brain just wasn’t strong enough to fight the delusion.
“So your ideal night is patching up this idiot, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her in that way that always makes her laugh, and she does, bubbly and sweet, and again his stomach does a flip. Making her laugh always brightened him up completely. Like a video game character maxing out his health bar.
“I think I would’ve made a great doctor” She teases back, shaking the box of band aids at him before carefully tucking them back in their spot in the first aid kit.
“You don’t even give me lollipops, how could you say that?” Ino retorts in mock offense- although it would make these little patch up sessions even better if he was rewarded with her close proximity and candy, but he’d accept one sweet thing at a time.
“Shut up,” She says through her giggles, finally closing up the whole kit. “You’re lucky I don’t do any of the scary stuff. I’ll leave that for your sorcerer friends”
“Eh, it might come to that,” Ino shrugs. He stays seated as she puts the small case back into it’s spot in the cabinet, lingering in her space for however long she’ll let him. “Shoko will probably get tired of me eventually, you know. How comfortable are you with stitches?”
The grin on his face is nothing short of teasing- and he knows he should stop. He knows that eventually the lines get blurry and he’s not sure how much his teasing is starting to blend into flirting, and with how playful her nature is she’s never afraid to dish it back. Not once had she reacted in an uncomfortable manner to something he’s said, but that only makes it harder for him to draw that line in the sand.
(y/n) shuts the cabinet and turns to him with her hands on her hips. A serious look flashes across her expression that he can’t tell if it’s meant to be in humor or if she’s actually about to drop the playful atmosphere. With a step towards him, she leans over so her height matches his, and they’re face to face.
“Takuma Ino,” She declares, eyes boring into his with an intensity that makes him gulp down on air. “Unless you want some really funky looking scars, don’t go asking me to stitch you up. Leave it to your magic friends”
His anxious expression drops as he breaks into a smile, amused by her choice of words, and her own face softens as she smiles back at him. It was infectious, the way he smiled. It could get her to crack even when she was really trying to be stubborn. A secret weapon of his that (y/n) was pretty sure he used on purpose, but there were some instances she could be convinced that he had no clue of this power.
“My magic friends, huh?” He repeats with a smirk.
He’d definitely have to tell Gojo about that one when he saw him next. Surely it would feed into his ego, if not make him cackle.
(y/n) stands up again, her cheeks suddenly feeling a little too warm, before she spins around and heads out of the bathroom. Finally, Ino stands, stretching his sore limbs and checking over the array of bandages on his arm before following after her.
“Or better yet, just don’t get yourself hurt anymore” (y/n) adds, her back turned to him as she makes her way towards her room.
“Oh wow, I hadn’t thought of that” He shot back in a mocking voice. He knows she rolls her eyes, even if he can’t see.
“Just sayin’, why don’t you work on that technique where stuff doesn’t touch you? Like that one guy?”
He has to bite his cheek to keep himself from breaking out into a fit of laughter. She was trying her best to understand how jujutsu worked, even if she was a little off the mark. There was also something so rewardingly funny about someone not remembering who Gojo Satoru was- even if she’d never met the guy.
“Not exactly how it works,” He replies. (y/n) turns to him as she stands in the middle of her doorway. Her tiredness is more evident now in the way she leans against it and blinks slowly back at him. “Pretty sure I gotta stick with the one I was born with”
She hums, pursing her lips as she tries to recall all of his explanations for the finicky sorcerer world. But her mind is foggy with exhaustion and she’s getting a little too swept up in how softly his brown eyes gaze at her, so she shakes her head and finally turns towards her room.
“Noted,” She tells him, knocking twice on her frame before grabbing the handle of her door and pulling it behind her. “G’night Ino”
His heart warms as he bids her goodnight, and he lingers in the empty apartment for a few more seconds before making his way into his own bedroom.
Every minute spent with her felt special and worth basking in, even when nothing significant happened, even when it was a completely normal night. Just being around her was enough for his insides to melt into a buttery mess.
When he goes to sleep, he hopes to see her in his dreams, where he doesn’t have to feel anxious or guilty about his feelings, and he can be with her freely, without a care in the world.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“There’s gonna be this… work thing… next weekend,”
He brings it up out of nowhere, although he’s spent a while trying to find a way to say it, he actually blurts it out in the middle of the two of them watching a movie. So it’s not actually surprising when (y/n) turns towards him with a puzzled look on her face, already reaching for the remote to pause the movie.
Tonight she sits close enough that with his arm strewn across the back of the couch, it could almost feel like they were cuddled up together. Even though they’re not touching- unless you counted the stray hairs that fell from her claw clip and brushed his arm behind her head.
“If you wanted to come, anyways,” Ino clears his throat uncomfortably, suddenly feeling a little more on the spot with the movie stopped and her full attention on him. “Gojo’s hosting, said anyone can come, I- I don’t have that many details yet, but, um, I’ll probably go, since Nanami said he was-”
“And I’m allowed to go?” She ends his suffering with her question, her brows raising in shock.
“Allowed?” Ino repeats the choice of word, followed by a short chuckle. “Of course you are, why do you say it like that?”
“I dunno,” Her shoulders shrug limply, although she knows exactly why she asks. “Cause… I’m not like you, I guess”
Ino’s never given too much thought to their differences. Besides when he’d realized he’d have to tell her the truth about his career, and they had spent hours on this very sofa while he explained the complicated history of jujutsu, and the ins and outs of curses and cursed techniques. She’d had her uncertainties, and endless questions, but after that talk, the stark differences in the lives they led outside of this apartment rarely came up. He could almost say it didn’t matter, but he didn’t want to diminish either of their careers.
Now, as he watches her begin to curl up like she was trying to shrink into herself, his heart falls a little bit. Did she really feel like she didn’t deserve an invite? Just because she was a non-sorcerer? In his eyes, it certainly didn’t make her any less of a person. He could almost laugh. How could a person like her feel that way? Someone so good hearted, hard working, brilliant, gorgeous-
“Ino?” She presses forward, drawing him out of his derailed train of thoughts. He blinks a few times as he comes back to the present moment.
“I want you to come” He says, feeling much bolder than he had when he first brought the subject up.
Now she’s blinking back at him wordlessly, eyes going round and a smile tugging at her lips.
“You do?” She asks, just to be sure, even though there’s not a doubt in her mind that he means it, with how genuine and hopeful his expression is. Warmth blooms in her face, and she hopes that her blush isn’t too embarrassing.
It’s not. Ino finds it utterly adorable, and quite endearing.
“Yeah,” He affirms with a nod of his head, before pushing a hand through his hair to pull it away from his face. “I want you to meet everyone. And I want them to finally meet you, too. If you want to, that is”
Her smile widens a little further as she nods back at him, the movement jittery and short, displaying her eagerness in it’s fullest.
“Sounds fun. I’d love to,” She says softly. Ino lights up with excitement, sitting up a little straighter as he beams at her.
However, before he can reach for the remote and start their movie up again, she snatches it away, a curious expression crossing her features as she studies him.
“But what do you mean finally, hm?” She muses, the question only half-playful. Curiosity did get the best of her after all. “Have they been dying to meet me or something?”
He makes a face at her that makes her laugh, her eyes lighting up as his expression alone confirms what she’d been thinking.
“Have you been talking about me to your coworkers, Ino?” She teases, her grin practically splitting her face.
“Don’t be an idiot, of course I do,” He tries to play it off, reaching out for the remote again, but she pulls her hand away just before he can take it, subsequently having him lean almost fully across her, his arm outstretched towards the object that could free him of this torture. “(y/n)” He huffs in annoyance, frowning at her when she still doesn’t play the movie.
“Nuh uh,” She says childishly while shaking her head. “What do you tell them about me?” She presses further.
He wants to roll his eyes, and huff and groan until she’s annoyed into going back to their movie- which had just been starting to get good before he started this whole thing- but he can’t. He just can’t bring himself to do it. Not when she’s grinning up at him and he swears he sees an actual sparkle in her eyes.
“C’mon dummy, they know all about you” Again, Ino tries to play it off like it’s not a big deal.
(As if he hadn’t gone on a long winded story to Nanami just the other day about how he was going to surprise her with a fruit bouquet of mangos on her nearing birthday, because she’d recently become obsessed with the tangy fruit and demanded they picked up the most overpriced ones every time they went to the grocery store. Nanami had little to know interest in hearing about all the places Ino had researched who make fruit arrangements and how he hadn’t deemed any of them good enough yet)
“All about me, huh?” She repeats curiously, before humming, content with the response.
Then she finally pushes play on the remote before dropping it onto the cushion beside her. Ino sends a silent thank you prayer to whatever greater force was looking out for his dignity, and settles back into his seat.
He swears when (y/n) gets settled, she’s sat just a little bit closer to him. He’s pretty sure her shoulder wasn’t grazing against his earlier.
They’re a few minutes in before she speaks up again, her voice merely a soft whisper beside him.
“You didn’t have to be all shy about it. I talk about you at work all the time”
Ino can barely keep his focus on the whole rest of the movie.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The work event isn’t necessarily a fancy one. There’s not a dress code, and despite Ino’s worries with Gojo organizing it, it’s not at some five star establishment he couldn’t even afford to look at. It’s held at a small local restaurant and bar.
Gojo does, however, rent out the place for the evening, so the only patrons tonight would be those from Jujutsu Tech, and whoever they decide to bring.
Despite it being business casual at most, it still feels like it’s the most dressed up he’s ever gotten for going somewhere with (y/n). Maybe it’s just his heart working on overdrive after seeing the simple but sleek black dress she’d chosen to wear for the night, paired with a little mesh wrap that was tied in a little bow at her chest and flared at the sleeves for some personality- but as soon as the evening began, Ino was starting to overthink.
“I’ve never been here before,” (y/n) hums as they approach the venue. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this”
She peeks a glance over at Ino as he’s also admiring the building. It’s a rather small restaurant, but the architecture has enough character that it’s worth getting a good look at before going inside. Or maybe he was just stalling where he could.
He looks really nice tonight, she thinks, and the thought instantly makes her heart skip a beat as she takes a few more seconds to look at him. He’s in dark slacks and a cotton black sweater that looks so soft she’s suddenly dying to pinch the fabric between her fingers to see for herself. It’s paired with a white collared undershirt for a little extra flair- something she knows she once told him she liked seeing on a man- and without his mask piled up on top of his head his long hair wisps in slight curls around his ears, just barely touching his shoulders.
She knows she’s been staring for too long, but it takes a few tries before she actually pulls her gaze away from him.
“I wasn’t either,” Ino says, and it takes her a minute to remember what she’d even said. “Knowing Gojo, I was expecting something… worse”
(y/n) chuckles to herself, before nodding to the door.
“Time to enjoy not worse?” She prompts, and he grins before gesturing for her to follow him inside.
Ino reaches over her shoulder to push the door open, only to follow behind her with a gentle hand on her back guiding her in. The silk of her dress is so smooth and thin against the light graze of his hand that he can feel the heat of her skin through it, and it takes a mental talk with himself in order to keep him from pressing his hand fully against her back.
She gives him a sweet smile in gratitude, before both of their attention is pulled away by the shrill of cheering amongst the chatter of people in the restaurant.
There weren’t a lot of people- there weren’t many jujutsu sorcerers to begin with- but there were enough to fill the room with a certain level of white noise with background conversation. All of that was drowned out by a small group of people currently shouting and beckoning Ino and his date over towards them.
Most of the shouting came from Gojo, but Shoko and Utahime seemed to be at just the right amount of intoxicated to join in with loud bouts of laughter. Nanami is also at the table, politely sipping his drink with a mere nod of greeting as Ino brings (y/n) their way.
“I guess I should have given you some warnings” He says under his breath as they make their way through the slight crowd.
Most of the managers are grouped together, Nitta giving a friendly wave in passing before going back to a heated argument that made Ino and (y/n) chuckle to themselves. It lightened some of the tension in (y/n’s) shoulders. She didn’t want to bother him with her silly anxieties, but she’d been quite worried about showing up to an event full of people who were extraordinary, meanwhile she was merely a salary worker.
Don’t get her wrong, she worked hard and was proud of how quickly she’d moved up in the ranks, but how could she compare that to people with other-worldly abilities? People who actively saved lives?
“Warnings?” She murmurs, glancing over at him, only to find his gaze already set on her.
“Not- not bad ones, necessarily,” Ino stammered. “It’s just… Gojo is loud, and nosy, but he’s a good time and he means no harm, promise,”
(y/n) nods in understanding, eyes flickering back to the table of sorcerers they were currently headed towards. She had a pretty good idea of which one was Gojo.
“Nanami’s quiet. He looks judgemental, but he’s not. Well- maybe a little, but he’s polite. So. It’s fine, I don’t have any warnings about Nanami, he’ll like you a lot”
“Yeah?” A flattered smile spreads across her glossy lips. It was silly to take pride in being liked by a stranger, but she knew how much Ino looked up to his mentor, and it made her heart flutter to think he believed the man he respected so much would approve of her.
“Absolutely,” Ino’s voice is rich with certainty as he nods at her. “Shoko’s kind of a weirdo, that’s just cause she works in the morgue all day so her sense of humor is… warped. Utahime is her not-very-secret girlfriend, I’ve told you about that right?”
(y/n) nods in confirmation. She may have never met these people, but she felt like she knew most of them well enough just from the late night gossip sessions they’d have after a shared bottle of wine.
“Any questions?” He asked, slowing their steps the closer they got to the table.
It was just like Gojo to set his little crew of odd semi-forced friends up in the corner where they could have some privacy, even though they were the loudest bunch of the whole gathering. At least he had the decency to rent the place out so the only people he was bothering were those he already bothered on a regular basis.
“No,” (y/n) said softly, before reaching out and curling her fingers around the sleeve of his shirt, bringing his attention back towards her. “Just one request?”
Ino gives her a small nod, halting in place as he stares at her with a grave seriousness in his eyes.
“Don’t ditch me here?”
He almost laughs at the ask, but he stops himself when he notes the hints of anxiety hidden in her expression. The twitch at the corner of her mouth, the slight pinch in her brow. He clears his throat and nods at her, before grinning widely.
“Of course not!” He declares, squeezing her wrist gently before she drops her hold on his sleeve. “What do you take me for? A gentleman would do no such thing”
And as they finally approach the table of Ino’s closest colleagues, they’re both laughing, and some more tension is relieved from her shoulders.
Ino’s quick to introduce her, and he goes around the table to remind her of everyone’s names quickly, trying to get the awkward stage out of the way as quickly as possible. Everyone behaves well enough, or as well as he could hope for. Utahime’s a bit excitable as she compliments (y/n’s) dress and sparkling accessories, but it helps to break the ice as the two slip into conversation about their favorite boutiques.
Ino wants to point out that the Kyoto based sorcerer never was one for small talk with him, but he keeps his mouth shut solely because (y/n) warms up to her and Shoko quickly and he doesn’t want to throw a wrench in their bonding.
Gojo’s clearly in the middle of some wild and possibly partially made up retelling about a special grade curse he’d exorcized on a recent assignment, so after introductions he resumes his exaggerated storytelling, giving (y/n) and Ino time to order drinks and chat with Shoko and Utahime a little longer.
“You’re pretty brave for coming,” Shoko points out to (y/n), earning a slight glare from Ino, to which she backtracks and waves her hand dismissively. “I just mean because this is the worst”
“I don’t think so” (y/n) shrugs with a sweet smile as she sips her drink.
“You don’t know us that well yet, you’ll change your mind later,” Utahime chimes in. “This,” She gestures towards Gojo, who’s talking wildly with his hands as he reaches the climax of his story. “Is why I took off to Kyoto, first chance”
It earns a laugh from Shoko and Ino, so (y/n) forces a small chuckle as well, but so far she couldn’t complain about the company. Sure, the white haired man wearing sunglasses inside in the evening seemed a bit theatrical and high energy, but it was a party setting, right? So she could give him the benefit of the doubt for now.
“Speaking of-” Shoko gets up from her seat, not so subtly tapping Utahime’s hand, “I need a smoke”
“Oh, yeah, me too”
Utahime glances at (y/n) and Ino with a raised brow, silently offering them to join, but one look at Shoko’s wide eyes tells them to shake their heads and stay in place. Even if they did smoke, they were clearly not wanted at this particular break.
Once they’re out of sight, (y/n) turns to Ino, obviously fighting a grin on her face, before she leans in close to talk a little more privately.
“Oh, it’s painfully obvious”
He laughs back at her, nodding his head in agreement before tapping the rim of his glass against hers.
Their moment is broken up when long limbs stretch across the empty space that Utahime and Shoko had left, and apparently Gojo had wrapped up his story because now he’s slinking towards the two with a coy grin on his face.
“We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?”
(y/n) fights the urge to stagger backwards as he comes close. He has a wild sort of energy surrounding him. He’s intimidating, but not in a way that makes her afraid, just very aware of how large and powerful he is. She wonders if even a non-sorcerer like her can pick up on signatures of cursed energy, or if this was just his raw aura.
But the way he smiles is inviting and the bubbly giggles that erupt from him provide nothing but a feeling of friendliness, as if he was someone (y/n) had known for years.
“Almost a year” She answers, forcing a smile that she hopes doesn’t come across as awkward as it feels.
“Wow, a whole year!” He cheers, raising his glass at the accomplishment. “That’s absolutely marvelous. A whole year, huh?” He repeats it again thoughtfully, tilting his head just slightly.
Ino’s not sure if she’s noticed, but since Gojo approached them, he hadn’t once torn his eyes off of her. Perhaps she couldn’t tell with the dark shades covering his line of sight, but Ino had gotten quite used to reading Gojo’s body language even with the blockage of a blindfold.
He also wasn’t a complete dunce, he knew that the way she looked tonight made it difficult for anyone to take their eyes off of her. Even Utahime had gotten that glazed over look after they talked for long enough. No one was immune, it seemed, but Gojo was probably the only person in the room that sparked a nasty feeling in Ino’s chest with the way he smirked down at her.
The feeling is a dull heat, only ignited into something worse when Gojo pushes his sunglasses to the top of his head, bright blue eyes on full display, and now so obviously focused on (y/n).
“How does someone go a whole year living with a pretty thing like you and not make a move, hm?”
Ino’s face twists up with shock and disgust, which humors Gojo as he begins to cackle, but he still doesn’t spare a glance away from (y/n), who barely reacts at all as she stands before them. She simply tilts her glass around, slowly mixing the ice around her drink. She doesn’t crack a laugh, but she also doesn’t give any sign that she’s upset with the unabashed flirting.
Neither of them are given the proper chance to respond to the bold comment, as suddenly Nanami’s approaching them, shooting Gojo a look that made the special grade sorcerer head off with some excuse about a fresh drink.
Thankfully, Nanami completely changes the subject of conversation, and Ino does his best to forget about what just happened as (y/n’s) properly introduced to his mentor. They shake hands, exchange a few pleasantries, but are ultimately quick to jump into conversation about Ino himself- even with him still standing there.
A lot of the stories they share are more embarrassing than he’d like, but he’s able to stand it for a little while. For both of them, at least. They were the most important people in his life after all, he’d been eager for them to finally meet.
But as soon as (y/n) gets Nanami to actually laugh about her first witnessing his cursed technique over an unwanted bug in the apartment, Ino finds himself using the same lame excuse of grabbing them a couple more drinks before he’s darting away from the downright humiliating memory.
(y/n) giggles and doesn’t even indulge Nanami in the story once Ino’s walked away. She’d just wanted to make him sweat a little, and clearly his mentor had gotten a kick out of it as well.
“He clearly adores you,” Nanami says, cutting through the light hearted atmosphere with a statement so genuine that (y/n’s) features soften as she takes in his words. “I’ll give him that. He’s a good sorcerer, and person. And clearly his judgment is well founded”
It’s a… distinguished compliment, that’s for sure. (y/n) finds herself blushing and she can’t even quite explain why. Was it the compliment itself or the insinuation behind it? Ultimately she decides to play it off due to the slight buzz she was running on.
“I’m certainly lucky to have him,” She says, and just as she glances around the room to see where he’d gone, he’s already heading back towards her with two drinks in his hands. “I owe a greater force big time for bringing me to him, don’t I?” She murmurs.
She doesn’t look back at Nanami when she speaks, her eyes too focused on the man headed in her direction. The blonde sorcerer ducks his head and tries to cough over his chuckling. It’s a pitiful attempt, but judging the glazed over look in her eyes as Ino comes near, he could probably count on her not having noticed his humored state.
“Thank you” She hums when Ino hands her the fresh glass, taking the empty one from her other hand and placing it on an empty table behind him.
“Did I take too long?” He asks, just quiet enough for her to hear.
There’s a look on her face he can’t quite read, but it’s so lovely he couldn’t even be bothered to try to decipher it as he smiles fondly back at her.
Nanami takes a subtle step backwards as he watches them mirror that lovesick look at one another.
“Not at all, I was just getting to know your mentor a little better,” She tells him, gesturing to Nanami, who had now turned and was walking away completely. “He has very kind things to say about you”
She tilts her head at him as her smile grows a little wider. Ino raises a brow back at her, unable to help the small bit of laughter that escapes him as he holds her stare.
“That so?” He hums, growing amused as he realizes she’s just a little bit drunk. “Are you having a good time?” He asks, and she knows he’s really asking if she’s feeling the alcohol a bit, but she nods back at him anyways, unbothered by the hidden question.
“I am, I’m glad you brought me”
His smile softens.
“Me too”
Utahime and Shoko return shortly after, and soon the four of them are seated at one end of the table sharing all sorts of stories, from work to drama to things they definitely didn’t need to share for being new acquaintances, (y/n) hit it off with the pair so well Ino didn’t want to do anything to reel her in. He was just relieved to see her getting along with the people of that part of his life.
It also helped that throughout the night she seemed to draw closer and closer to him. Whether they were walking up to the bar and she kept so close their arms brushed together, or when they sat down and she pulled her chair close to his so that when she was leaning into the table she was reaching across his lap and almost completely in his space. Ino could almost pretend that she was his date for the night. He’d weakly mustered up the courage to drape his arm over the back of her chair, but that was as much of a leap as he was willing to take.
Not long after though, she raised her empty glass in his direction, and her free hand reached over her shoulder where his hand dangled off her chair, so her fingers could wrap around his.
“Another?” She hums curiously, still swirling the glass in a small circle.
His hand unintentionally twitches when her soft skin brushes over it, and as if on instinct, she slots her fingers between his.
She’s touched him before, of course, it’s not like he’s never had skin-to-skin contact before. When patching him up, or bumping into each other in the kitchen. One thing was certain, though… they never held hands.
And she holds his hand now with that pretty smile on her face as she waits for him to answer her question- wait, shit, how long has it been since she asked him that question?
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get another round” He agrees, and carefully slides his chair back before standing, not wanting to bump into hers.
Even when she stands, she keeps her fingers curled between his. Ino’s not sure if she’s even aware of it- should he pull his hand away? Or perhaps she was just a bit drunk and didn’t want to stumble in her heels- so keeping his hold on her would be the right thing to do, right?
She gives Shoko and Utahime a cheeky little wave before following beside Ino towards the bar. Their hands still clasped together between them. He wonders if she knows that she’s making his heart race at an unhealthy pace.
But she must know, she must realize she’s still holding it, because once they approach the bar and wait for their drinks, she’s lazily swinging their conjoined hands back and forth as she strikes up a conversation with him.
“This is much cooler than any work event I’ve ever gone to,” She tells him. “It’s always at a chain restaurant, and there’s a socially acceptable amount of drinks you can have”
Ino chuckles at the slight pout on her face, and finds himself giving into the slight swing of their arms. “This stuff barely ever happens,” He shrugs. “Probably because most people can only take Gojo in concentrated amounts,”
Her eyes are wide as she nods at him in understanding. In the brief interaction she’d had with the special grade sorcerer, she already completely understood what he meant.
“But if this doesn’t end in disaster and there’s a chance for another one in eight to eighteen months, you’re invited” He teases.
She lights up like a christmas tree, as if he’s just promised her tickets to a sold out tour of her favorite artist, or a seat on the next shuttle to the moon. Her lips curl into the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, eyes glimmering with her excitement and honor, and if Ino wasn’t swooning as hard as he was, he might’ve chuckled at the drunken delight.
“Really?” She gushes, eyebrows raising with her hope. “You will?”
A breath of a laugh escapes him as he nods, and she rocks on her feet momentarily, too giddy to stand still. He can’t help but reflect her grin back at her.
They’re handed their drinks, and finally (y/n) pulls her hand out of his. He tries not to show his disappointment. Before Ino can think of something clever to say, something that borders the line of teasing and flirting that he’s usually so good at tip-toeing over, someone else joins them at the bar.
Gojo Satoru on a regular day is a menace. Although Ino didn’t always mind, not like his mentor did. More often than not, he’d match the energy and get a good laugh in for the day. But at a work-social event? Gojo was insufferable. Ino had already decided this the second he’d decided to hit on (y/n).
Was he irritated for the right reasons? No. Was he actively trying to get over his feelings for his sweet, perfect, beautiful roommate? Maybe. Did that mean shit? Absolutely not.
He’s decided that as soon as Gojo purrs out another flirty line- which he’s bound to do judging from the way he’s currently looking at her- that he’s going to take her hand again and drag her away without a word. His heart starts to race in his chest from the anticipation, knowing that it’s soon to come once Gojo’s done chatting her up about how swell of time she’s having.
As powerful as he was, Gojo Satoru could be a bit predictable.
“You know, I could show you some pretty neat things at Jujutsu Tech if you ever wanted to learn more about sorcery,” He’s good at disguising his propositions as simple acts of kindness. Ino’s jaw twitches as it tenses, his teeth clamping down together. “I’m a really good teacher, you know”
“Oh?” (y/n) scoffs, she’s faster to react than Ino, and for being at a giggly-level of intoxicated, she plays off her scoff as playful as she quirks an eyebrow up at him. “You should probably save it for your students, then,” She says, and Ino fights the urge to snicker. Not very well, though, it’s pretty obvious when he purses his lips and his eyes crinkle with humor. “Besides, I’m taken”
Ino does a full double take, the joy on his face falling and transforming into one of utter bewilderment. If (y/n) notices the reaction, she chooses to ignore it, too busy staring down Gojo with a pointed smile that seemed sweet but screamed get lost instead.
Gojo doesn’t seem remotely offended by the bomb drop of a refusal. In fact, he almost looks amused by it. He grins from ear to ear as he nods back at her in understanding.
“Of course,” He murmurs, his gaze finally shifting towards Ino, only for a moment, before it’s focused on (y/n) again. “I wasn’t trying to offend” He says, and it’s genuine.
(y/n) beams.
“You didn’t”
With that, Gojo nods again, and then he disappears again. Off to mess with someone else, they suppose. Ino’s pretty sure Nanami was left unattended and he’s likely the next victim. If the situation wasn’t so pressing, he’d probably rush off to save his mentor from the torment.
Sorry, Nanami.
“Taken?”
He turns to (y/n) with a look on his face that makes her brighten up. That cute look of confusion mixed with curiosity, she just had to bask in the adorable way his brows would pinch then relax, then pinch and relax, as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. She giggles, her smile turning toothy as she lets him baffle himself for a few seconds longer.
And then, in that soft, saccharine voice, she murmurs up at him.
“Well, I sort of am, aren’t I?”
The night didn’t last much longer after that. Once Shoko and Utahime were tapping out and slowly leaving the venue so as not to be bombarded by anyone- Gojo- (y/n) clung to Ino’s side a little more, and grew a bit quieter as it got later, her buzz turning into sleepiness.
It wasn’t until Nanami made his departure that Ino decided to call it. The only other people who were still in for the night were the managers who didn’t know when to quit.
(y/n’s) leaning back in her chair, working on drinking a second glass of water and hardly paying attention to the conversation happening around her. She’d pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her wrap, but she let the material stay draped over her shoulders. Ino was convinced that she might fall asleep right there in her seat.
In the last couple of minutes, he’s glanced over to find her staring at him five or six times. Eventually he can’t hide the way his smile betrays him, and he mumbles a ‘what?’ under his breath at her.
She giggles back at him, airy and carefree, before she leans over to brush a lock of hair that curled around his ear. A noticeable blush dusted over his cheeks as soon as her finger grazed his skin, even though the motion is just her drunken form of platonic affection, she leans so close that he can smell her perfume, and even once she’s tucked the piece of hair behind his ear, she lingers there for just a minute longer. The lump in Ino’s throat is too large for him to talk through, so all he can do is hope his eyes aren’t ridiculously wide as he stares back at her, before she settles back in her seat again.
He thinks he might cancel his upcoming haircut appointment. Even though it’s length was starting to get a bit annoying, he might try out the longer hairstyle for a while. And if (y/n) continues to reach out to give it a little tuck behind his ear then that would simply be a minor bonus, wouldn’t it?
It dawns on him after he spirals on the thought for a while that the night should be wrapped up soon. It was time to get back home where he could chug some water and hopefully forget about how much he’d embarrassed himself tonight.
“Hey,” Ino murmurs, tapping the back of her hand gently to get her attention. Her eyelids are heavy as she glances over at him, a small smile gracing her lips. “You ready to go home?”
(y/n) wakes up a bit more at that, nodding her head and tucking her arms through the sleeves of her wrap.
They slip out not long after that. Ino keeps his arm around her waist, murmuring something about keeping her upright that he’s not even sure she hears before she’s leaning against him, slowly walking along the sidewalk on their way to the train station. The walk and ride home is mostly silent, but it’s comfortable. He wouldn’t ask for anything else, as long as she was tucked into his side like she belonged there, like he was made to hold her like this.
He’s not sure if the heaviness in his heart is because he’s so full of love, or if it’s because he knows deep down that this would be the closest to having her as his as he could get. Nonetheless, he keeps his hold on her secure until they’re back in the safety of their apartment.
“Thanks for the fun night, Ino,” She murmurs after kicking her shoes off by the door. “Let’s definitely do it again sometime, ‘kay?”
He can only manage a small smile and a nod of agreement back at her.
“I better get to bed, I’m going to pass out,” She lets out a tired little laugh, but before heading off, she steps closer to him, hand reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze. Again, he gives her a smile, about to bid her goodnight as he usually does, but before he can say anything, she’s leaning up and pressing her lips against his cheek.
She kissed him.
He blinks, and she’s already pulled away, still smiling before she’s headed off to bed with a quiet goodnight hanging between them.
Needless to stay he stands at the door with his shoes still on for embarrassingly longer than necessary, his fingers ghosting over the spot on his face her lips had just blessed.
He was set back a few paces in his whole getting over her plan, tonight. In fact, he might’ve been knocked all the way back to square one.
Oh well, there was always tomorrow to try again.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“You should really make a move on that roommate of yours, you know”
Nanami’s sudden advice has Ino swiveling his head away from lunch, nearly giving himself whiplash as he stares at his mentor in shock. They hadn’t even talked about the event last friday, so far their talk today had been strictly work related.
(Except for when Ino saw a cat across the street while on a patrol and he insisted that Nanami named the stray before they went on their way. That was less-than work related)
“What?” The word comes out in a mere squeak, disbelief evident in his twisted expression, but he’d heard Nanami perfectly clear. The man nods again, chewing thoughtfully on his food before swallowing, and continuing on with his moment of advice.
Nanami didn’t often feel the need to give his pupil guidance outside of jujutsu sorcery. Ino was quite capable of taking care of himself, for being a young man with an odd form of income, he’d always taken care of himself well.
Now, however, the 7-3 sorcerer felt the need to involve himself with this one. And he wasn’t afraid to tell his apprentice that he was being an idiot.
“She’s a quite lovely young woman,” Nanami continues, and Ino already feels himself begin to blush. “It was a pleasure to meet her. I can see why you like her so much”
Ino gives a shaky nod, still suspicious of where this was all headed, and why Nanami was pushing him to make a move- or so he’d said.
“Yeah…” Ino agrees unsurely. “(y/n’s)... great”
Nanami hums as he nods his head, adjusting his glasses before sitting up straighter in his seat, giving Ino an unsettling amount of direct attention.
“She’s clearly infatuated with you,” The blonde sorcerer says bluntly. “So what’s holding you back, hm?”
Ino opens his mouth, but when an excuse doesn’t immediately come to mind, he shuts it again. He gapes a few more times, and Nanami is patient as he waits to hear whatever terrible excuse he comes up with, but eventually it becomes clear that Ino’s been stunned into silence, so Nanami takes over again.
“You’re a capable young man, Takuma. Whatever is holding you back, it’s time to let go of it. I only had to talk to her for a few minutes to know that that young lady is in love with you”
Ino’s still gaping like a fish, but as the words sink in, he snaps his mouth shut, and swallows the lump in his throat.
“What- uh- why are you telling me this?” He stammers out.
Nanami sighs softly, a small smile gracing his lips. It was heartwarming to see the shy young love blossoming before him. At least, when it wasn’t obnoxiously ignored by Takuma.
“Because it’s obvious when you two look at each other. Usually that means it’s time to fess up”
“Wait wait wait,” Ino put his hands up, leaning over the table they shared as he wrapped his mind around the sudden advice. “Are you giving me… romance advice right now?”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” Nanami grumbles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “But you’re ignoring it”
“So you agree it’s romance advice-”
“You love her, don’t you?” Nanami interrupts him then, brows raised pointedly as he waits for the confirmation. It was a simple yes or no question, wasn’t it?
When Ino shuts his mouth and swallows hard, Nanami accepts that as answer enough.
“Then don’t you think you should tell her?”
“I…” Well, he couldn’t exactly argue with such sound advice, could he? And he certainly wasn’t about to argue with the mentor he respected beyond belief. “I just don’t want to ruin a good thing” He admits quietly.
Now, even his ears feel like they’re on fire with the admission.
“And if you never say a thing and eventually she moves on to someone else? You wouldn’t regret your choice?”
Ino frowns. He should have known Nanami was only going to hit him with logic.
He finishes his lunch quietly, a silence settling between them as Nanami feels as though he’d said what he needed to say. Ino was clearly thinking it over pretty hard- seeing as he was making his thinking face throughout the rest of their lunch break- and now all Nanami could do was hope his words would stick.
At the end of the day he wanted to see his pupil happy. Takuma Ino was a good egg, and he deserved happiness.
It would also help if he didn’t have to sit through another event where they made heart eyes at each other for two and a half straight hours. But mostly that first thing.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Ino’s nervous when he approaches the door of his apartment that evening. It was a nice night, his final assignment didn’t go too late, and he made it home at the early early time of seven p.m.
When he does unlock the door and let himself inside, it’s not a surprise to be instantly greeted by (y/n), who grins at him from the kitchen.
“Ino!” Her smile stretches from ear to ear when he walks into the apartment. She’s in the kitchen, wearing the silly but cute duckling themed apron she wore anytime she was in the kitchen, even if she was only using the toaster, she’d put that apron on.
So cute, he sighs as he leans back against the door, at a loss for words. So domestic. (y/n) looks puzzled by him staying at the door without coming in all the way, or saying hello.
With a concerned knot between her brows, she drops the utensil in her hand on the counter, and makes her way towards him.
“Ino?” She calls worriedly. “You alright?”
“Yeah- yeah, I’m fine, just tired, s’all” He stammers back, finally pulling the beanie off his head and dropping it on the small table they keep by the door, then kicking off his shoes.
(y/n) frowns.
“Long day?” She lets out a sigh, then wraps her arms around herself as she awaits whatever terrible thing he has to share.
Jujutsu sorcery wasn’t always about unique talents and powerful people, she’d learned quickly. She’d seen Ino return home with a weight that only failing innocent people could place on his shoulders. Tonight, she assumes that the lost, glazed over look on his face is due to something of the sort.
“It’s not like that,” He says as he watches her expression sadden. Ino forces a quick smile as he shakes his head at her. “Don’t worry about it”
She doesn’t look at him any different, still frowning, still waiting for him to tell her what’s on his mind.
“I am worried,” She murmurs gently. She doesn’t want to push him, but she needed him to know that she was there for him if he needed to get something off his chest. “Did something happen-?”
“No- no it’s really not…” He tries to explain to her that his anxiety tonight has nothing to do with work, but he doesn’t yet know how to tell her that it had everything to do with her. He wasn’t sure how she’d take it. Wasn’t sure if it would come out right.
Growing more concerned by the second, (y/n) takes a larger step closer, her hands reaching out for his out of instinct. He flinches slightly when she first takes hold of them, but he lets her. He lets her squeeze onto them and pull them close to her.
“If you need to talk about it-”
Ino doesn’t like the way she looks at him like she could break just thinking he was in some sort of pain. So before he can refine the words in his mind, he blurts out what had been plaguing him.
“What did you mean the other night when you told Gojo you were taken?”
It does the trick, because her expression morphs instantly. She’s staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, lips still parted around the rest of her question that she now drops completely. It catches her so off guard that she’s dead silent for a few seconds.
“And then you said you sort of were- what does that mean?” Ino’s prepared with another question, and she worries he’ll keep piling them on before she could come up with the proper answers for them.
Her face feels warm, and a nervous smile spreads on her lips, followed by a small chuckle that dies in her throat. It’s a cute sound, anxious, but cute nonetheless. It makes the corner of Ino’s lips tilt upwards upon hearing it. It was a natural reaction, smiling whenever she would laugh. He couldn’t help it. Seeing her happy, even in a state of nervous energy, set butterflies free in his stomach in a way he hadn’t felt since his childhood.
“I… I meant…” She’s stuttering, voice failing her the longer his honey brown eyes are staring into hers. “You know what I meant” She finishes the thought quietly, barely under her breath.
He softens, and then melts before her. His hands squeeze her with the smallest amount of force, barely there, but enough for her to feel it.
She’s blushing, her cheeks a rosy shade of pink that’s so lovely he almost can’t stand it. He leans towards her, watching as her eyes grow a little rounder upon the close proximity.
“(y/n),” He murmurs, so soft she wouldn’t have caught it if the syllables of her name didn’t brush against her skin with his breaths. “I need you to tell me, alright? Because-” He pauses, his eyes flickering between hers for a moment, and she swears they dart down to her lips before raising to her eyes again. “- because I need to know I’m not seeing things and- and making them up before I do something stupid that I can’t take ba-”
“How stupid?” She cuts him off, pressing closer, as if it could get her an answer faster. It might work, because she barely finishes the question before he’s replying.
“Very stupid” He breathes through the words, like it pained him to even say them.
The faintest of laughs fall from her lips, before she tilts her head and gazes up at him fondly.
“Who knew you thought twice about stupid things before you did them?” She teased. It’s so soft, so sweet, that he cracks a smile. It washes away all of his nerves, and his stupid idea doesn’t seem so stupid anymore.
Tugging on her hands, he pulls her closer to him, until she’s practically tripping into his chest, but he doesn’t care when they collide unceremoniously. He’s already letting go of her hands so that she can brace them against his shoulders, steadying herself, and just in time before he’s cupping her face in his hands and slamming his lips against hers.
As sudden as the kiss is, (y/n) meets him with the fervor of a long awaited passion. Her hands squeeze his shoulders, latching probably too tight but if it hurts he shows no sign of pain.
His lips are so soft, despite being chapped and his kisses being rushed, they were so gentle against hers that she could feel her knees wobbling. He’d probably tease her for it later, but right now she couldn’t care.
He kisses her like they only have a limited amount of time. As if they’re not at the entryway to their shared apartment. His hands slide from her cheeks to the sides of her head, into her hair, holding onto her with a firm grip- as if she’ll slip away from him at any moment.
But the truth was, this was heaven. She could stand here and kiss him and be kissed by him for hours. Days, even.
He only pulls away from her when his body has him gasping for air, chest heaving, lips hanging open as he pants, she has to giggle just a little bit at his desperation. Even if she matched it as well.
Their noses are still pressed together, and their hands remained latched onto one another as they both caught their breath. Ino shares her laughter once the haze over his mind clears up and the reality of what they just did sinks in.
“So,” He mumbles, heavy eyes finding hers, making her fight the urge to steal another kiss. “Stupid?”
With a smile she tries to bite back, she shakes her head at him.
“No,” She murmurs back. “Not stupid”
Dinner is forgotten on the counter, going cold the longer it remains that way.
Ino beats her to another kiss. It feels like ages as they stand at the door embracing one another, kissing in between fits of giggles and sweet confessions, and kissing just to kiss.
He understood exactly what she meant when she’d said she was taken. Because, well, he sort of was too. Long before now. His heart was stolen the day she responded to his ad, and with it their fates sealed.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ it’s better than i ever even knew // they say that the world was built for two // only worth living if somebody is loving you // and baby now you do. ]
#takuma ino#takuma ino x reader#ino x reader#ino takuma x reader#ino takuma#takuma#ino#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk imagine
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Bibliophile; Pt. i
Kaz Brekker x Bibliophile!wife!reader
Summary: Kaz returns from a meeting to find his wife (that was meant to attend) with a book in her hand and a drink at her side. Unfortunately, a fellow crow sees their interaction and is itching to find out more.
an: i had so much fun writing this bro y’all don’t even KNOW
Warnings: Kaz can tolerate reader’s touch, alcohol and drinking it, little bit of irritated Kaz, fluff for DAYS, reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as female, marriage??, the book “The Language of Thorns” is presumed in canon, the crows are about 22 in this (which is what i imagine to be in the show), OOC Kaz (i tried y’all) I may have missed some 💁🏻♀️but enjoy!!
Kaz sighed as he scanned the room for his wife, finding that she was in fact, not present.
“Have any of you seen Y/n?” he tooka large breath,”Never mind, let’s continue.”
“But boss, doesn’t she have a big chunk of the job?” Jesper swirled a pistol around his fingers then re-holstered the weapon with ease and precision.
“I can inform her later.” His teeth slightly grit, his hands working in the beginnings of a loose fist.
“As we were…”
~
Once the meeting was finished, Kaz gathered up the papers to re-place them back with his files, and shrugged his coat off. Descending the stairs of the slat, he noticed some of the books on the shelf had slanted in their places, as if a support had been pulled from under them.
Curious, he smirked.
he decended the stairs further to the crow club’s nightly regulars either gambling or drinking, conversing or laughing, scheming or wishing. But among them all, he found a familiar face in a quiet secluded corner, with a book and a glass of Kvas.
Continuing his way across the floor of his club, he stopped to ask one of the other Dregs about the upcoming job.
Slowly from her corner, Y/n heard a certain man’s voice and found him in discussion with the woman who tended the bar named Sylvi. They were presumably discussing a new job or a previous one, but nothing other than work. She knew that, but she still couldn’t help but keep an eye on the interaction.
Eventually she grew tired of surveying her husband’s every move, and returned to her book. “The Language of Thorns” is a collection of six fairytales and myths she had been read as a child, and when she found it on the shelf she just had to reread it.
“You look invested.” Kaz’s voice softened from his previous tone with the other woman.
“Oh I am, this book is very good. I used to read it quite a lot when I was young.” She smiled over the top of the book, knowing exactly what he would bring up next.
“Was there anything else you needed to do or, attend possibly, this evening? That you perhaps weren’t there for?”
“Oh there was this meeting, yes, my dear husband told my to meet him at 9 bells and it must have slipped my mind.” She smirked in the taller boy’s direction over her book.
“I’ll make sure to tell him about your predicament.” Kaz sat beside his wife, grabbing her hand that was laying on the couch.
“She is forgiven.” He placed a kiss to her knuckles and smiled lightly at her.
“Thank you, Mijn liefje.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and Kaz kissed her head.
“Of course, schatje.”
Little did the two know, a sharpshooter watched and observed their interaction, slowly piecing together that their relationship entailed more than expected.
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PRETTY PLEASE? pt.I
Out of all humans walking on this Earth, Satoru Gojo might be the most impatient one.
The clock seems to have stopped the moment you walked out of his apartment, and despite his efforts to make the time flow at least a tiny bit faster, he’s miserable. That’s not how the night was supposed to go - he had plans, and one thing about Satoru is that he hates when his plans end up in ruin. This time though, there is only one person he can blame, and that is himself. It’s not your fault that when you were telling him about the girls’ night you had planned weeks ago with your besties, he was dozing off, playing with those tiny buttons on your favourite shirt. He couldn’t help himself - there was something so mesmerising about the act, and Satoru got invested.
He’d very much prefer to get invested in anything involving you than to sit alone in his apartment, waiting for you to call. At least you asked him to pick you up after you’re done - otherwise, he’d be sulking for weeks. He’s sulking now, laying on the bed, frustrated and alone, scrolling through every possible social media you use. At least there’s a tiny chance he’ll get a glimpse inside of the party you’re at, right? Wrong. You seem to be doing that on purpose, as there’s no new content for him to indulge in and sulk over even more. Satoru knows you’re the type of person who loves to overshare on the internet, so the current silence is quite suspicious. He’s trying his best not stress over it, as he swore he wouldn’t text and call, but his inner demon is really starting to sweat over it. He sighs. It’s so frustrating. Your relationship is a rather fresh subject and there were some areas of it that you haven’t really explored, but he was more than ready to do it tonight. To set the record straight - and after weeks of dating, movie nights and cook-offs in your apartment to officially ask you to become his girlfriend.
The thought of his perfect night with you yet again pops in his head as he drops the phone on the bed, trying to shake the uneasiness. In normal circumstances, he’d have you wrapped around his finger after a week, throw a random sentence that would suggest you’re a couple from now on and be done, but when it comes to you, nothing seems normal. Not his heart rate. Not his sex drive. Not his thoughts. If love’s a war, then he’s not the brightest soldier on the battlefield - it seems like everything about him is ruthlessly occupied by you.
Even his speed. It’s abnormal, how fast he’s picking the phone up when a notification from you finally appears on his screen. Satoru rushes to his car, excitement filling up his entire being to the point where the speed limits become relatively unimportant - even if he gets a fine, he would have more than enough to pay for that. There’s only one thing that’s priceless, and that is, time. To be exact - time with you, which he has a severe shortage of, no matter for how many hours he’s blessed to be in you presence. Even infinity seems like not enough.
His sufferings have finally come to an end, as Satoru has already parked in your bestie’s driveway. He takes out his phone and texts you „I’M HEREEE” with a million of random emojis, and then slowly leans his head on the cold window glass. From the pieces of information he’s managed to pull out from the darkest places of his memory, it seems like these girls’ nights are an annual thing that happen when one of your closest friends comes back to the city once in a while - she’s been studying overseas for the past few years, but your girlfriends and you are very serious about friendship and do everything in your power to keep it alive and kicking. The effort you put in the relationship pays off - you always have your girls to talk to, vent and cry, and they have you. He grins unconsciously. Another thing Satoru loves about you. You’re just such a sweetheart.
He observes the entrance, waiting for you to finally come out. It’s past 1 a.m and the whole neighbourhood seems to be sleeping. Satoru rolls the windows down a bit and as the freezing, but nicely refreshing air hits him, his eyes light up when he picks up a faint sound of your voice coming from the house. And then, just moments later, the doors open wide and a familiar shape emerges. Satoru instinctively fixes himself on the seat and brings both of his hands on the wheel, just to tighten his grip on them as you slowly come out from the shadows. He finally can see you, in your whole glory, when the light coming from one of the reflectors catches your frame.
You are so fucking cute.
Satoru’s smile grows bigger and bigger until it almost doesn’t fit his face. Cute is a perfect word to describe your whole being - incredibly wholesome, bright, at the same time dumb in some ways and extremely knowledgeable in the others. And tonight, Gojo Satoru is set on making you officially his.
He’s ready to go out and open the passenger’s door for you, but you’re faster, even though your legs feel slightly wobbly as you almost sprint to his car, determined to run away from autumn cold. You grip the handle and suddenly you’re welcomed by cozy warmth and Satoru’s overwhelming scent.
„Toru!”, you exclaim, basically throwing yourself into his open arms, giggling non-stop. The white-haired man in the driver’s seat grabs you instantly, hugging you tightly in his arms and you hide your face in his torso. You’re home.
He’s home.
„Hi, princess. I missed you so, sooo much”, he coos, not really paying attention to the fact that your body twisted in this awkward position may be activating some car options that he has no idea exist. You fit into his frame perfectly and that’s all that matters.
„Toooru”, you purr into his hoodie, words barely audible. He raises his hands from your waist to cup you chin and kiss you, but you’re faster - you sit up properly, making a place for yourself right on his lap. You slowly raise your head and then - Satoru notices. Your flushed cheeks. Your shiny eyes. Your adorable smile.
And then you drop it.
„Toru, I need you to fuck me. Please?”
masterlist ❤️
this will get a part two, it's just been sitting in my drafts for so long I had to post it haha based on a drabble I wrote some time ago. prepare for subby gojo I guess
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#satoru gojo#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojou satoru x reader#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustu kaisen#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen gojo
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Hi dear ! I am so in love with your Nanami Kento writings that OMG I am crying (it's tears of joy no worries) I just love this man so much ! I was wondering if it's okay for you to write a request where Nanami dates or marries a fem! Shy reader ? How would he flirt ? As she also slowly gains confidence to initiate things with him cause his presence is so comfy for her.
It can be just all fluff or with tinges or spice/nsfw if you are okay with writing it.
Just wanted to thank you again for your stories and can't wait to read more Nanami posts. You're awesome! 🩶
Hi angel! I’m so happy you love my writing! This is such a cute concept and honestly, I see him with a shy partner. I hope I did it justice! 🖤
CW: some smut!
It was a rainy afternoon, you were cooking you and your boyfriend dinner and swaying your hips along to some smooth jazz he played on the stereo. You looked over to him, fully invested in the book he was reading. You smiled as you walked over to him and crawled into his lap.
“Hi honey,” he chuckled. “Hi,” you snuggled up against his chest. “Dinners’ almost ready, I just placed the roast in the oven.”
“It smells wonderful.” He kisses your nose, he knows it makes you weak every time. You both start at each other for a while, something you guys like to do.
“You’ve grown more comfortable around me,” he pointed out. “I have?” You sat up in his lap. “You have. Do you remember when we met?”
You pretend to look clueless since you loved it when he would tell the story. “I’m assuming you would like me to tell the story?” You nod your head in excitement as he chuckles and holds you tight in his arms.
Flashback
When Nanami Kento first met you, it was at a local coffee shop you would frequent. You would see him walk in around the same hour every time you went; 7:30am. The both of you didn’t know each other very well, he would give a “good morning” and you would smile in response. It wasn’t very often you saw a man that attractive so it made you nervous. Even if it was just a simple act of hello.
On this day however, you were running late to your job and didn’t have the time to make yourself a cup of coffee. You grabbed your keys and went straight over to the cafe, refusing to deal with your coworkers on an empty stomach and no caffeine.
“Hello, may I have a-”
“Can you speak up? I can’t hear you.” The cashier interrupted you.
“I’m sorry, um…May I have [your order] please?” You requested as the cashier heavily tapped on the screen. “Will you be paying cash or card today?”
“Card.” You opened your bag to look for your wallet.
It was nowhere to be found.
“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself. You fished around in your purse to find any loose change, but no luck. “No way, I forgot my wallet..”
“Ma’am, you’re holding up the line.”
“I’ll take care of it.” You heard a warm sultry voice speak from behind you. You turned around to find that same handsome man who comes in regularly. Your eyes shift to the left wall and stare at the clock. 7:30am. They then shift back to his big chest, causing your face to heat up.
“O-Oh! Um, you don’t have to! I’ll just come back later, no big deal.” You softly replied. You couldn’t look him in the eyes without stuttering. “I insist, I know what it’s like to not have your daily caffeine intake. I’ll take the green tea with a blueberry muffin as well please. Just combine our orders together, Thank you.”
You softly thanked him and looked down in slight embarrassment. The both of you went to the pick up line and waited for your orders. “Thank you again. I will pay you back every dime.” You promised.
“There’s no need. Any thing for a gorgeous woman like yourself.” His compliment made you eyes widen a bit and cause your face to heat up.
“My name is Kento,” he stuck out his hand to shake yours. “Y/n.” He smiled, he thought your name was beautiful. From that point on it changed the trajectory of your relationship with him.
You found yourself going to the coffee shop instead of making coffee at home, purposely going so you were just in time to see him. And he would be there to see you. He would pay for your coffee and pastry just so you both can talk about the most random things while you wait for your orders. He never made you pay for it, that wasn’t up for discussion.
It got to a point where you both would come in an hour early just to have time to sit and talk with each other. Nanami is a very organized well thought out person. Before making any big decisions, he thinks them through completely. But with you for some reason, you made him not question anything and just go for it. He knew you were a shy girl, based off of what he had seen. So he tried to make his advances as subtle as possible.
“You know Y/n, you’re such great company. I would love to take you on a date,” your eyes widened. “A date?”
“Yes. And as much as I love out coffee talks, I want to take you out. When we can have all the time in the world to get to know each other.” He told your free hand that was rest on the table and caressed it. Your body felt hot.
“I-I would love that.”
So here you are, getting ready for your date with Nanami. You truthfully never thought this would happen, but hell are you grateful it did. You smooth out your dress and apply more lip gloss before grabbing your purse and opening the door to the blonde staring back at you.
“Good evening, gorgeous.” He hands you a bouquet of flowers.
It was a few hours after your date and you invited him back to have a glass of wine. You both sat on the couch while jazz played on your tv.
One thing led to another and you two are getting touchy on your living room couch. The both of you finished two bottles of wine and it was flowing through you. He placed a big hand on your thigh and caressed it like he does with your hand. Your breath hitches at the feeling and you spread your legs lightly to invite him in.
“Dirty girl, do you want me to move my hand further up?” He cooed. You whimpered and nodded your head lazily. “When you’re with me, you use your words. Understand?” He takes he’s other hand to hold your jaw to face him.
“Y-Yes, I understand,” you whimpered. He chuckled. “Look at you baby, you can barely look at me in the eyes. Shy girl. Do I make you feel like this?” His face was so close to yours at this point.
“Yes,” you whimpered out.
He caressed your cheek and brought his face closer. His lips softly grazed yours as you both exchanged a passionate kiss.
Nanami found your shyness cute, especially in the bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of your cries of pleasure and the way you would drag your fingernails down his arms. The first time you both had sex, he noticed you holding back.
“I need to hear you, princess. I need to know how I’m making you feel. Don’t get quiet on me know” he would moan and he drags his dick im and out of you at a pace that has your mind going fuzzy.
“O-Oh my god, Kento! Fuck! Yes yes yes yes yes,” you chanted as your eyes rolled back. “There you go baby, let it out.”
Sex with Nanami could honestly change someone for the better. After that, you genuinely felt unstoppable. Your shy exterior was etched away with each moment you spent with him. You found yourself more talkative with people at your job, even taking bathroom breaks to send your boyfriend some risqué photos.
‘You’re such a tease pretty girl, I’m coming to get you on your lunch break.’
And he would fuck you senseless in the backseat of his car. And you wouldn’t give a fuck about who heard you, or how you looked when you clocked back in. That’s how he made you feel.
After a few more dates of going to various restaurants, museums, jazz bars, and your favorite, at home dates, you both came to an agreement to move in together. It was one of the best decisions both of you could’ve ever made.
End of Flashback
“You love when I tell that story, don’t you?”
“Who wouldn’t?” You grinned and got up to check on the food. Nanami placed his book back on the shelf and shoved is hand in his pocket.
“And I want to keep telling it forever,” He murmured as he pulled out a small black velvet box with a ring inside.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jjk anime#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami smut#jujutsu nanami#snoopyearss
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