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#and maybe i'll do more stupid shit later
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this game makes me lose my brain cells
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medicinemane · 1 month
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The problem with people who are "right" because they insist they're right, and the only way to be right is to simply perfectly follow their every dictation on the subject unquestioningly is this...
Ok, let's just take it as a given that you're right... the problem here is that if that's what's right I'm afraid I have to dig my heels into being wrong. If you are as righteous and just as you insist you are then I've got no choice but to be the villain because I can't stand what you're saying I'd have to do to be good
Shockingly I even think it's wrong, which is odd because we've already defined it that you're inherently and unassailably right... yet here we are
Worst part is there's a lot of these things where I'm not even full stop against it, I actually might be on their side if they could stop and address a couple of issues I consider kind of important... but they won't, because they're morally right and don't have time for addressing nonexistent issues I'm clearly just dreaming up
Undoubtedly right they are, the defect must surely be my own... and yet here we are. Vile and wicked as it might make me, I still can't just go along with you
#mm tag so i can find things later#and whatever you think this is about and however you've already decided it agrees with you#I'll say this is about like... minimum 2 topics at very different points in the political spectrum... and probably like 20 easy#so like... it may well be talking about your own behavior on certain subjects#I'm talking about not even being willing to entertain good faith questions#and especially about labeling anyone who doesn't tow your exact party line a horrible person#...the amount of shit where it's like 'you know I actually agree with you... except for this one major sticking point'#'just tell me how we deal with this one pretty big thing and I'm fully on board' and... well actually you're terrible for that#or the amount of places where it's like I agree with your goals; but not your methods but... I don't think arguing would do a damn thing#you've already dug your heels in so deep and maybe you're even right to do it.. but I'll never go along with it no matter what that makes m#and the number of overall good people I know who this post is honestly about#they may well be far better than I am; I've never claimed to be good; quite the opposite#and yet I'm afraid I have to say that... to me you're wrong; wrong in concrete ways#maybe you could even address my concerns and help me see with my stupid brain why these aren't issues... but you won't#because you're right; and you know you're right; and so you'll never be wrong#and this isn't just some idle whataboutism... or maybe it is; I'll never say I'm the moral arbiter; again I could be wickedly wrong#and there's a variety of reasons someone believes what they believe; but... there's often blind dogma at the end#I may be stupid; but I can usually draw a line from my stance to something in the world#maybe it's a stupid nonsense line and I don't see my mental gymnastics... very well could be#but I can draw a line... it's not just circular logic; it's not just bouncing between two points#and I often can actually point to places I'm not happy with how things are or will be... we live in the real world and that sucks#example that... man it's more politically charged than I like getting; but ok#I really want this Ukrainian aid to pass even though I don't like the Israeli aid attached... but I get that's the only way it's passing#I want the Ukraine aid because I see residential houses getting stuck by missiles; but I don't want the Israeli aid for the same reason#and it comes down to that I think that the aid amount is sufficiently higher to Ukraine to make it enough of a net positive#I could be wrong... but you can at least see my work; I'm coming at it from a perspective of bombing civilians is wrong#I could be stupid; I could point to two people I know on here who would tell me I'm stupid for at least one part of this... probably all#yet there it is... and... it'll be hard to convince me otherwise
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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months
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Show me where it hurts (part 1)
Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader
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(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist
summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.
warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo
a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D
(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)
edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(
wc: 3.6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You think Miguel is avoiding you. 
One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 
"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."
She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 
"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"
"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 
"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 
He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 
"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 
"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 
"I don't have time for this-" 
"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 
"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 
"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 
"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 
This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 
"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 
"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."
"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."
He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "
Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 
When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 
"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 
Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 
~~~
Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 
He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 
Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 
"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 
Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 
"What happened?" He strains. 
"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 
"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"
"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"
Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 
"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 
"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."
Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 
"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."
When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 
You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 
"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."
You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."
"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."
You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 
He shrugs. " 'Course I was."
"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 
"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 
He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 
"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 
"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"
"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 
"That's not what I meant."
"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 
"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 
"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"
"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 
"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "
He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 
"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"
Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.
"I don't… I d-don't…?" 
"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 
Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 
"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."
"Miguel-"
"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."
"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 
Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."
You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 
"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."
You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 
~~~
The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 
The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 
You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 
"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"
"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 
You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 
The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 
"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."
"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 
"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"
"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."
"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."
"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."
"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 
You hum.
"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"
"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."
He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 
"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 
"Naturally…"
"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."
"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"
"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."
"Shit."
"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."
"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."
"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "
"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 
" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."
"Good to know. I'll see you around."
He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 
Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 
You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  
On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 
"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 
"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 
"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 
"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."
"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 
She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."
Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 
"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."
You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 
"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."
"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 
She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 
"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"
"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 
"I'm a little confused, Lyla."
She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 
It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 
Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…
"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "
You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 
"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."
Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 
"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 
"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."
"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."
"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."
"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 
"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"
"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."
The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."
"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 
With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.
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blackwaxidol · 1 year
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fell asleep on the couch, woke up 5 hours later.
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lowkeyremi · 2 months
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JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS
basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)
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Gojo
PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.
Yuji
I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.
Megumi
Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.
Geto
He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.
Toji
There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"
Nanami
He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.
A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"
"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."
Nobara
Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"
Maki
She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.
Inumaki
Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.
Shoko
She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."
Sukuna
Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."
Choso
He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.
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leviscolwill · 6 months
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something to give each other
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pairing: situationship!jude x reader
summary: jude and you are nothing complicated, until one night when you need him more than anything [wc:~800]
contents: angst & fluff at the same time bc why not + maybe a tiny bit suggestive ? idek if this classify as suggestive tbh
note: ikkk it's very short and that's a shit summary just read pls 😓 if u liked it, lmk by reblogging !!
now playing something to give each other by troye sivan...
you don't know what brought you two together. maybe it was the magnetic energy that he had to him, or maybe it was the way your personalities completed each other perfectly. either way, you found yourself wishing your paths never crossed a bit too often.
you and jude weren't anything serious, it was ‘less complicated’ this way according to him. you hung out with your shared friends and when everyone else was heading home, you would share a uber to his house or yours. it was simple really, you both got what you wanted by the end of the night.
and tonight, you needed him to take your mind off this awful day. you couldn't wait for him to make you forget about those stupid exams and these stupid arguments with your friends.
you didn't take the time to greet him like you usually did before kissing jude's lips, maybe bolder than he expected. his fingers gripped your jaw and forced you to slow down and separate from him.
“what's with you tonight?”, you could only roll your eyes at his comment, small talk being the last thing on your mind tonight. thankfully, your fingers raking the skin under his shirt was enough to shut him up. “i just need you, please jude.”
his eyes closed, it was hard to resist your pleas but your voice had a tone that was different than usual and he didn't want you to do something you might regret later, “no, you need to tell me what's going on, we're not doing anything if you don't.”
“fuck off, you never ask me about anything and suddenly you're interested in what's going on?” you couldn't understand the sudden switch in his behavior, it had always been just sex, why complicate it now? “i just need you to kiss me, take off my clothes, and make me feel good, is this too much to ask for?” you could feel your eyes well up in tears the more you spoke, already frustrated by your day, and not wanting to argue with him.
“it's fine if you don't want to have sex, i'll just text someone else.”, of course you didn't mean a word that came out of your mouth, if anything you would leave and cry yourself to sleep in your bed. jude's thumbs wiped tears that you didn't notice were falling before cupping your face in his hands. his eyes looked into yours in a way you weren't used to, your eyes fell on the floor from the intensity of his gaze, but two of his fingers were already tilting your face up, forcing you to make eye contact with him.
the silence between the two of you was becoming embarrassing, “i'm sorry about… all of this, i'll just go. sorry.” you couldn't even turn your back to him before his hand found your wrist, “you're not going anywhere. stay the night, please.”
you couldn't hide the frown on your face, confused by his words, “but you said you wouldn't…” the boy in front of you dramatically pretended to get offended, “this information might surprise you, but my life doesn't revolve around sex.” the giggles that escaped your mouth brought back a smile on both your lips.
jude's hand brought you to his room, although you knew the way all too well already, the warmth of his hand in yours brought you a sense of comfort that you didn't know you longed for. he handed you a shirt that was probably twice your size but would be perfect to sleep in. you embarrassingly looked around you before asking him to turn around, he complied but laughed his back now facing you.
“i've seen you naked so many times already, you shouldn't care about this love” heat was creeping up your face thinking about what he was hinting at, “s’ just different that's all…” your voice was barely audible, and you couldn't even tell if jude heard your words. you got under his sheets and told him he could turn around, his bed now significantly warmer with him next to you.
even with his eyes shut, jude could tell you were tense laying next to him ramrod straight. you felt his arm around you pull you closer, your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
you felt him shift a bit, and kiss the crown of your hair. the action made you heart skip a beat or two and relax more. you hoped you did a good job at pretending to be asleep because you didn't want to deal with the consequences of his ambiguous gestures in the morning. his fingers slowly stroking your hair were lulling you to sleep for real this time.
jude stopped once he heard your light snores and pressed on one more kiss on top of your head. he didn't let himself fall into the arms of morpheus though, already thinking about how he would fix whatever he started tonight.
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Look, This is gonna be one of those things that sounds bad until you read the whole story. Please don't read the title and go to 'yta' without reading.
AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?
Look, My brother ISNT trans. He likes to wear kilts and sew, Which is what kind of started all of this. My brother is NOT trans, He loves being a boy (trust me, I can hear him enjoying being a boy in his room all the time. Theres no way he'd wanna chop it off(I mean this as a joke I don't actually know how the surgery works), He's told me multiple times that being told by others what he likes is 'feminine' and 'girly' upsets him because he's proud of being a boy and doesn't like being called a girl. Its not because he hates girls or thinks less of them, He just does not like being called the wrong gender which I'm sure you want to be called the correct gender too.)
Anyways lets begin. I (16F) am my little brothers (15M) best friend, Basically. We grew up together and do everything together, Including sewing. I liked it when I was younger, And eventually convinced him to try it as well. He loved it, And we love just sitting together and making random crap we usually end up selling at our yearly garage sale. (Our mom makes us sell all our unneeded crap every year, But we aren't complaining when we make like $100 for it, Mom and dad even help us figure out what we actually wanna keep (we sometimes see old things and go 'Oh I could never get rid of this' and then throw it away))
Sorry for the rambling, But you'll see why some of this is important to know.
Basically, We were getting our shit together for the garage sale, And invited over a mutual friend of ours, Who I'll call uhhh Ley (16F). Shes kind of obsessed with the LGBTQ and loves to help people 'realize' they're gay or trans or non-binary. By this I mean she'll literally bully people she 'knows' is gay or trans by always telling them they are and spreading rumors about them saying they are. The way she 'knows' these things are from gut feelings. I thought maybe she needed friends who would be honest with her and tell her gently that it needed to stop. She stopped being so bad with it and we even convinced her to admit to the rumors she started being fake. We've known her for around 3 years now, And she's stopped doing it as aggressively for 2 of those years. She still makes jabs and 'jokes' saying things like "Oh thats so girly, Are you sure you're not trans?" and "Oh thats such a boy thing to do, Are you a lesbian?", Both quotes she's said to me and my brother less than a week ago. I am straight and cis, So is my brother. We have nothing against the lgbt, We just aren't apart of it. We support the lgbtq as much as possible (with my part time job I like to donate some of my paycheck towards point of pride so people who need the surgeries or binders can get them), And are very open about supporting them.
While we were cleaning out my brothers room and finding stuff to throw into the 'sell' box (we like to do precleaning before our parents help us, It makes everything faster and less work on the people trying to help), And Ley found my brothers kilt. She did a long exaggerated gasp, Looking at my brother.
"So, How long have you been trans? Why didn't you tell me?? I knew it the whole time!"
My brother tried to explain that it was a kilt for men, And he wasn't trans, But she kept interrupting him saying crap like 'you don't have to lie I know now' and 'Its nothing to be embarrassed about, I knew ever since you started to sew'. The last straw for me was when she continued not listening to him and started to ask about how he was gonna come out as school. I yelled at her to get out, That neither of us were gay, Neither of us are trans, And neither of us are apart of any of the lgbtq. We are allies and nothing more. She tried to argue that he had a 'skirt' which OBVIOUSLY meant he was trans, I basically screamed at her that she was a stupid know it all who made everyone who wasn't apart of the lgbtq's life hell because she made sure everyone knew them as someone they arent (I know, I shouldn't of brought up 2 years in the past) and that I was tired of her trying to force everyone to be in the LGBTQ when its just not realistic. Not everyone is gay or trans, Some people are cis and straight. She started crying and left, We haven't spoken in a few days but I think I'm justified. I'm tired of living my life being told I'm something I'm not, I'm tired of seeing it happen to my brother too.
My brother later thanked me for standing up for him, Telling me it made him really upset when she said those things. To cheer him up we watched his favorite movies and I made him his favorite dinner (mom and dad both work day jobs so we both make lunch and dinner)
And for those who are gonna say that allies are apart of the LGBTQ I strongly believe the A is for aro/ace. Being an ally isn't a gender or sexuality
(unless people identify using ally/allyself of course or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure how neos work or whatever but I love to see how creative people get with it and am happy it gives people who don't identify with any of the normalized(? Idk the correct term but yknow the man woman and nb) genders a chance to be who they actually are)
Extra info on why I think I could be the asshole: I feel like we might've been able to explain it if we got her to shut up for a minute, But she kept talking over us. I feel like I went too far by insulting her, And I feel like I might be TA because she's also autistic (so is my brother though, And I have ADHD).
Why I think I'm NTA: My brother is really quiet and doesn't really defend himself often. He doesn't really know how to stand up for himself and is 'easy' to talk over (soft spoken, Quiet talking voice and nonconfrontational) which is why I believe I had to step in in his place, And I don't believe I did anything wrong defending my brother and making her stop calling him what hes not.
Anyways. AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?
To see later: PINK PANTHER
What are these acronyms?
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Hi bb, just a thirst idea for you: Study fucking. Your fave has trouble being "smart" but he is a genius when it comes to pounding that ass after he gets too frustrated during a study session.
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Oh, Vi, my sweet. I know you sent this a while ago. But when I read it, my heart wasn't the only thing to clench up 😈! Thank you so much for sending this to me. It was so fun to write!!
A/N ::: Nerd/Bad Boy!Keisuke Baji x F.reader, reader doesn't know he's in Toman until later (or at all, idk), he is NOT playing stupid, math is just really fucking hard!
C/W ::: Mutual pining that's super on the DL, unprotected P->V, Baji surprising us ... so nothing out of the ordinary.
WC ::: Just over 2k.
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"Why though?!" Baji yelled a little louder than you thought he needed to. But it was clear he was getting more and more pissed about this. "Why the FUCK does it have to equal the fucking same area as this fucking pellaroraglam?"
You bit the insides of your cheeks and your tongue to keep from laughing at him about his pronunciation of the word 'parallelogram'. "Because that's how the Greeks intended it. Ok? Let's take a 10 minute break and come back to this again, yeah? You're not an idiot, Kei. I think you've just been staring at the book for so long that things are starting to make less and less sense. Does that make sense?" You reached over and took his glasses from his face and brushed your finger up and down the bridge of his nose. "Do you want to go for a walk or get something from the kitchen? Maybe to eat or drink? Make this 10 count because when we get back, we're hittin' it hard again, ok?"
Something about your wording made his cock twitch. But he shoved that thought down almost as quickly as it bubbled up into the forefront of his overworked brain.
"Hittin' it hard again, hah? You're mean, y/n. You're a bully. A learning bully. You're not gonna give in until I understand this shit, are ya?" He stood up from your desk and he gestured for you to follow him to your kitchen.
Your apartment was nothing special. But how you made the space your own was something that Baji always found so sweet and comforting. Of course, he'd never admit that to you. He is, after all, the first division Captain of Toman. Captains don't find things 'sweet.' They find them masculine and bloody. That's what everyone from the outside looking in thought, anyway. Though, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the pull you and your apartment had on him, he always found himself wishing he was back here, with you, in this little bubble of mild contentment you'd created.
He was relaxed when he was with you. Save for right now. But you were trying to help him study for his midterm. Any other time he's been here, he always felt safe. Maybe even small, for lack of a better descriptor, when he is anything but 'small' in any sense of the word.
"You really do have a mean streak in you, you know that?" He teased as you both walked into your kitchen. "But you're right. I need a break from that book. My eyes are crossing and it's starting to give me a headache."
"Do you want a couple of tylenol? I think I have ibuprofen, too. Anything I can do to help you with this, Keisuke. It's my job, after all. Use me however you need to to get this through that stubborn head of yours." You smiled so cute at him that he had a difficult time not telling you what he really wanted to use you for.
"Maybe I'll take you up on that. But first, can I ask you something kinda weird?" He sat down on one of the bar stools at the counter and you followed suit, sitting next to him.
"Of course! Anything, Kei." You rubbed your fingers up and down your forearm, a nervous habit. Even still, you assumed it was a question about the math you were helping him study. "What's up?"
"So, like, I know you're not into me in that way. Right? And that's fine. You've made that very clear. But, like, if you were...into me, I mean, into someone … hypothetically, I mean, what kind of person do you think you would be into? Like, are you more into the nerdy type, or the bad boy type, or, like, the artsy type?"
You didn't really understand where this was going. But you decided to humor him. "Well, I guess I've always been pretty attracted to the bad boy type. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't go for someone who was nerdy, too. It all depends on the person, you know? I have to like them first and foremost. Like, just because I see some bad boy doing bad boy stuff doesn't mean I'll fall to my knees and s-"
Baji choked on his tea, spitting it all over you in the process of trying to control the amount of liquid that was coming out of his mouth.
"Oh fuck! I'm so sorry, y/n! Gahhhd damn it. I am so sorry!" He grabbed the roll of paper towels from the counter by the sink and tore some off to frantically wipe your chest.
"K-Kei! Oh my god! Stop! It's ok! I'm at home, I can easily change my shirt. Don't worry about ... about it. You yell so much. Geez."
You hopped off of the stool and went back to your bedroom to find a shirt to change into. As you did so, Baji felt his stomach turn. He knew he shouldn't have asked you that. It was stupid and immature. But he couldn't help it. He'd had a crush on you for so long that he just needed to know if he had a chance in hell with you or not. But, as he'd guessed, you weren't interested in him that way.
He waited for you to come back to the kitchen before apologizing again. "I really am sorry, y/n. I don't know what came over me. I was just, I dunno, asking for a friend. And then you started to say that if you saw someone doing something that you’d fall to your knees and …" He waved his hand in the air as if to clear what he was going to say away before it’d even had a chance to see the light of day. “And I choked and blew my tea all over you.”
You giggled and shook your head, smiling at him. "It's ok, Kei. You're a little clumsy, but you're still really sweet. I like hanging out - I mean, you know. Helping you study. I enjoy your company, regardless of what we're doing."
"Y/n? I really wanna kih-" He blushed and looked away from you before he thought you saw his face turn a pretty shade of pink.
"You what, Kei?" You leaned around him a little to get his attention. "What do you want, Baji? You can tell me. We're friends."
FRIENDS 
"Oh, y-yeah. Of course we're ... friends. Yeah. Well, let's get back to the math, then. C'mon." His heart, smile and morale sank as he headed back to your room with you.
Meanwhile, you were left to wonder what he was going to say. What did he want to 'kih'? Kiss? Oh, no. It couldn't be that. Right? Maybe he just wanted to kick your butt for making fun of his pronunciation earlier ... even though your face was the only thing giving away the fact you were getting quite a bit of entertainment from that. He wouldn't have noticed that. Right?
You followed him back to your bedroom and decided to keep quiet about the whole thing. You couldn't imagine that he would want to kiss you. You were just his tutor. And he was so cool. He had cool friends, girls practically fell at his feet when he walked by them. He couldn't possibly have feelings for you, right?
Oh, but he did. He really did. He was mad for you. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his lap and kiss you senseless. But that couldn't happen. He couldn't ruin the time you spent together. It was precious to him, even though he knew you saw it as nothing more than a job.
The next hour of your time together was spent studying right from the book. There was no talking, no joking, just Baji finally getting to work. It was a welcome change for you. It meant you could focus on your task at hand and not worry about him trying to distract you with his unfinished sentences.
He was still so frustrated. But he was starting to make progress. He was starting to understand what you were trying to teach him. He just wished he could show you how he felt.
As you helped him work through the last of the 4 problems he had to do, he tried to come up with a way to say it. To tell you how he really felt. He was never good at words. Action was his strength. "I'm not sure about par-parallelograms? Is that how you say it? I'm so fucking sick of that long ass word. It's so stupid. Why couldn't they just say a special type of quadrilateral that has both pairs of opposite sides parallel and equal. That word is like 73 letters long. I hate it. It's so fucking annoying, y/n. Jesus."
You clapped and jumped a little where you stood, your tits bounced and his eyes went right to them. "Yes! Yes, Kei! Good! Good job!" You jumped into his arms and hugged him so tightly, burying your face in his neck, (accidentally) inhaling his scent. "I knew you could ..." you pulled your face back from him and looked into his brown eyes. "I knew you could do it ... Keisuke. Mmm ... Kei-suk-e. You ..." you breathed the words out heavily and found yourself staring at his full lips. That sly smile, his sharp teeth. Pain never looked so appealing. 
Your heart stopped in your chest when he threw the math book across the room and it slammed into your wall with a loud thud. Before you had time to process what was happening, his hands were in your hair and his lips were on yours.
You'd been so stupid for someone who taught other people things. So stupid to not see how he felt. And now, here he was, kissing you like he needed you to breathe. You reached up and pulled his long black hair back from his face and returned the kiss with just as much intensity.
"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, y/n. I didn't think you'd want me that way. I'm just a dumbass with no future. You're so smart and pretty and funny and ... and I just can't believe you're actually kissing me back right now."
You shook your head and smiled. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize what was happening, Kei. You're not as good at hiding your feelings as you think. You should have just said something, though. This whole time we've been studying everything together, we could have been ..."
"... fucking like rabbits?" He laughed, but his eyes were serious.
You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans. "You know, it's not nice to talk to your tutor like that. But Baji, you've made a lot of progress tonight. I think you deserve a reward."
He picked you up and laid you down on your bed. "Oh yeah? And what kind of reward do you think I deserve, y/n?"
You reached over to your bedside table and turned on your neon pink LED lights. "The best kind, Kei. You've earned it."
"Fuck, y/n. You are so hot. I can't wait to fuck you so hard you forget everything you've ever taught me. We’ll have to have some more lessons. Is that ok with you?"
You nodded as you pulled your shirt up and over your head. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. We can even work on your pronunciation. You're a bit of a mess with your consonants."
He kissed you again and smiled. "Y/n, oh my god, shut up ... you're the worst." He pulled his pants down and straddled you, his cock rock hard and ready for you. "But you're also the best. I can't wait to make you mine."
"Kei, you're already mine." You reached up and cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss. "Now ... teach me something.” 
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@darkstarlight82 @katshimizuu @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @arlerts-angel
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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We all know jason loves eating pussy, and this mf knows he's good at too, he gets hard and off off it. but imagine him coming home from patrol and him being needy asf and being bratty and once he gets his mouth on you he's whimpering and grindning his hips into the bed and your pulling his hair and it makes him moan and grind into the bed even more, and when he's finally done getting you off he stands up and you see the wet spot on his boxers and he's still hard and he's shy and soft about it
Also bby I love your version of jason and dick, like holy fuck the shit you write is AMAZING like I love you so much..
its after 2am. i have to be up for work at 7. i give zero fucks rn. i need to write this. if i fall asleep at work later, im blaming you.
**
"Fucking hell, Jay. What's gotten into you?"
He paws at you, strong hands trying to tug at the elastic of your pyjama shorts. His mouth is pitched up in a smirk. He wants something, you know he does. The elastic snaps back against your skin when Jason fumbles his grip and you hiss through your teeth at the sting.
You're grabbing at his shoulders, trying to find some fleeting sense of stability amongst his chaos. In the back of your head, you note that he's back from patrol a little early.
"Slow night, huh?" You try, unable to do anything but shuffle back in half steps when Jason herds you to the bedroom. "Must be if you're this needy."
His focus shoots to you, a pout suddenly settling on his face, "Wanna eat you out. Missed the taste of you."
Your eyebrow cocks up, eyes searching for a clock, "You are aware it's the middle of the night, right? We should be sleeping."
"But baby." Jason whines, settling on his front when you tip backwards onto the bed. "I want to lick your pussy. Please let me taste you, I know you're wet."
Combing your fingers through his hair when he leans forwards to press a handful of kisses across your stomach, you tug lightly at the base of his skull and pull his head back so you can look at him.
"Always about you, huh? I want this. I want that. What about me?"
Jason whimpers, "C'mon, sweetheart--please. Y'know I'm good at it. I'll have you coming in no time. Then when I'm done, we can go to bed."
Dragging his fingers just under the waistband of your shorts you feel your body flush with goosebumps. His touch burns a path straight through to your gut, it feels like wildfire, feels like nuclear fission. He kickstarts the heat inside you and you feel yourself start to get damp.
"Pleaseee. Lemme lick your pretty pussy. Wanna make you feel good."
Cupping his cheek with one hand you sigh, "Okay, baby. If you want it so bad."
Pulling your shorts down your thighs Jason grins, impossibly pleased with himself, maybe a little smug. It's an infuriatingly good look on him and it's hard not to react in the way he wants you to. Stupid smug horny bastard.
Guiding your thighs over his broad shoulders, Jason swipes his soft, wet tongue through your slit. At soon as your taste blooms across his tongue he moans, eyelids fluttering closed in bliss. He licks you from your soaking entrance, all the way up to your puffy clit.
Grabbing at your waist, Jason sucks your clit between his lips and drags the flat of his tongue over it. Bucking your hips up you choke out a quiet gasp of his name and fist at his hair.
Almost immediately, Jason moans into your cunt, hips grinding into the bed. Yanking at the strands harder, you guide his head where you want it to be and the noise he makes has your clit twitching desperately in his mouth.
Suckling at the throbbing bundle of nerves your thighs quake over his shoulders. Even though he gets his mouth on your pussy as often as he can, Jason never fails to have you seeing space and time and everything in between.
He's good. Really fucking good.
"S'good, Jay." You gasp, head tipping back. "So good for me, baby."
You feel him whine against your clit and you kick your hips up, grind yourself into his greedy mouth. Jason takes it easily, reflectively adjusts to every single movement you make until you hold his head in place using his hair.
"Uh--fuck." He moans into your cunt when he realises what you're going to do. "Use me, baby. Grind that pretty pussy all over my face."
Rocking your hips, you hold Jason in place and grind against his talented mouth. For a brief second, you think he's going to come with the sound he makes and the way he grinds his cock into the sheets. Instead, he drags his tongue all over your clit and you make a high, keening noise in the back of your throat.
"M'close." You manage to get out, breathless and trembling.
Doubling his efforts, Jason licks and sucks at your clit like an expert, like he knows exactly what to do to get you coming undone. Sliding two fingers into your clenching hole he twists his wrist and drags them over your sweet spot.
Gushing all over his hand you jerk and yank at his hair. Jason cries out and shudders from head to toe. Pumping his fingers into you, you feel heat drag up your neck when you hear the way your pussy squelches around the digits.
Arching your back when he sucks at your clit and hits your sweet spot at the same time you come undone, crying out his name and thrusting against his face. You feel your clit pulse and twitch in his mouth as he keeps lavishing it with attention, pussy squeezing rhythmically around his fingers.
Pulling back once you're spent, you release the tight hold you have on his hair. Jason rocks back onto his knees and you notice straight away the damp spot staining the front of his underwear.
A flush spreads up his throat, redness touching at his cheeks. Your heartbeat kicks up a notch at the sight of him, soft and embarrassed. Ducking his head he tries to hide from the look on your face but you see the way his cock twitches and strains against the sticky fabric.
He wants to come again.
"Oh my sweet boy. Did you get a little too excited eating me out?" You coo, reaching out to him. "C'mere, s'my turn to take care of you."
**
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gwynfahr · 7 months
Text
Sleeping position
Jordan Li x reader
Synopsis : You can't seem to fall asleep and keep accidentally bugging your lover throughout the night.
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1:57am
"Jordan ? You awake ?" encased in your partners arms, in his masc form for the moment, your voice sounding loud despite the fact you were whispering in the night.
His answer came in a groan and a stir, telling you he was listening.
"Did we do the assignment for Brink's class tomorrow ?" your voice sounded anxious, and you clearly forgot you did it earlier with Jordan while watching an episode of Property Brothers.
"You thinking 'bout that in the middle of the night ?" muffled words came from your lovers whose head was located on the crook of your neck. "We did it two hour ago, babe."
"Oh. That's right, I forgot, sorry for waking you up, baby, go back to sleep." You were still wide awake, so you took it on yourself to help him fall back asleep, after all, you didn't have classes early in the morning tomorrow, while he did. Your hand slowly began caressing his hair and he groaned a bit at the soothing motion, grateful.
Ten minutes later, Jordan was back asleep and you still couldn't sleep. You didn't dare move too much as Jordan's body was litteraly flushed against your side and you really didn't want to wake him up, so you just laid in bed, eyes wide open, trying to understand why your brain wouldn't just fall asleep.
3:36am
An hour later, you got a cramp so painful that you jerked up harshly, moving your boyfriend with you. Your whimpers of pain were made to be silent in order to not wake Jordan up more than he already was, but it was too late.
"Babe, you okay ?" He asked, not quite awake, but definitely not half asleep anymore.
"I got a cramp, sorry." You answered, massaging your calf where the cramp hurt like a bitch. "Shit, that hurts..."
Jordan took your leg in his arms and gently massaged the area, figuring that, if he was awake, he must do something to help. Soon enough, the pain faltered to a reasonable amount. "That's better ?"
You nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry for waking you again, you have classes tomorrow..."
"No it's okay, I was having a nightmare either way, so I should thank you for that."
"Really ? Do you want to talk about it ?" You took his hand, an expression of concern on your face.
"Meh, it's stupid." He said, and then suddenly, Jordan was sat in front of you in her female form.
"Nothing is stupid when it comes to nightmares baby, if you don't want to talk about it, though, it's okay, we can just cuddle until you fall back asleep." you proposed.
"That's clearly implying you won't sleep." Jordan said as you took a more confortable postion, laying back down, face to face on your sides.
"I wasn't sleeping before, but it"s okay, I don't have classes in the morning so, I'll be able to get back some sleep then. You have to wake up early though, baby, you need your beauty sleep."
"Please," Jordan snorted "I don't need sleep to look hot, and I've done worse than a four hours night of sleep. Why weren't you sleeping ?" she asked, hugging you close to her so her head was rested comfortably on your neck, caressing your head. Mechanically, you did the same.
"I think I forgot something, but I can't remember what, and it's bugging me. Ithought it was an assignment or somethng, but it wasn't that. Not a birthday either, not something school related, not an important date for us, not an appointment... I thought about everything and I can't remember." Somehow, explaining it to Jordan made it feel even more stupid, if you forgot something, then you'd remember at some point, no need to lose sleep over it.
Your girlfriend looked deep in thought.
"Maybe it's just your anxiety taking a toll on you. I know it hppens to me when I'm stressed. Just try to forget bout forgetting something and relax." She moved her hands to your back, scratching it softly in a soothing motion, making you giggle a bit at the tickles it created. "I mean, we could also fuck until we're both too tired and lazy to even think about anything, but I feel like you're not really in the mood." She joked a smirk on her face.
You genuinely thougth about it. Jordan was wearing one of your shirt right now, and she looked so hot in it it was criminal. Plus, you really wanted to sleep. However, you felt like the cramp would come back at any too suden moves or contraction of your muscles. "We could make out instead ? You look so hot right now that it's really hard saying no, you need to know."
Soon enough, the both of you were flush against the other, legs entangled, Jordan's hands on your neck as yours were messing with her hair (making it more toussled than it was before). Your mouthes moved in sync, gently, slowly, carefully, you had time, neither of you wanted to sleep anymore. You had to come up for air after some time, but you still found the breath to whisper to Jordan.
"I love you so much, Jordan. So so much."
"I love you too. So much" Was your girlfirend's answer, after a minute of silence where she kissed everywhere she could on your face.
You spent, maybe twenty more minutes making out, Jordan switching forms twice, settling in his male form. Finally, you bth stopped, out of breath. You looked in each other's eyes and Jordan whispered :
"We should try to sleep."
"You're right, it's actually crazy to see you be the responsible one on this relationship, though." You teased before cuddling again with your boyfriend, the forgotten thing plaguing your mind forgotten.
You both fell asleep peacefully ten minutes later.
_________________________________________
4:33 am
Rufus was still calling for help after you hung him on the american flag hamper in the main alley of God U, five hours earlier.
It seems you forgot about this entirely.
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ayyy-pee · 15 days
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𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕕𝕖 𝟘.𝟝 - 𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕜
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Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader
Episode Summary: After a drunken night of binge watching your (least?) favorite show, you find yourself making a grave mistake.
STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS
Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)
Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)
A/N: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE! I hope you guys enjoy this ride (that you're in charge of in later chapters!!!) I'll put up Episode 1 tomorrow after proofreading!!! <3
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“God, this show is so stupid,” you mutter, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth while you get settled onto the couch.
“Please…It’s so bad, but I tune in to every season.”
You glance over when your friend reaches into your lap and dips her fingers into your bowl of popcorn and grabs a few kernels.
That was the perfect way to describe what was happening now. You’re currently huddled up on the couch, having spent the day binging the most recent season of The Bachelor until you’re all caught up. The new episode airs tonight and you’re eager to see who Joey ends up picking. Will it be Rachel? She’s gorgeous, funny, and her family seems to really get along with this season’s Bachelor. They have great chemistry. Or maybe it will be Daisy? Though you couldn’t see that working out. The girl is a total bore. Or it could be…what’s her name again? The one who looks a little bit like she could be his sister. Ah, whatever.
You’re not sure when you really began to even give a shit about this mess of a show. It’s corny. No one falls in love within a few weeks of knowing each other. And why does one man or woman need to date twenty people to find someone to marry? Are they that unlikeable in the real world? Not to mention, it’s totally unrealistic. Do these relationships even work out once the cameras cut off? Unlikely. You find the entire premise of the show downright stupid.
And yet, you can’t tear your eyes away as this season’s Bachelor takes each girl out on an extravagant date that…you can’t lie, you would love to be on.
Dancing in Malta? Sunbathing on a yacht off the coast of Spain? Getting to see Niagara Falls up close? Sign you up. You don’t think you would stand a chance being the object of everyone’s affection, but you could definitely milk being a contestant for free trips and good food.
“Why can’t he see that Rachel is the best pick here? Ugh, annoying. You know he’s going to give what’s-her-name the last rose.” Your friend downs her wine in one swig and you don’t bother to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. She’s all red faced. You’re not sure if it’s from how passionate she is about the show or from the two empty bottles of merlot she’s managed to down practically on her own, but the glowing hue it gives her highlights the thick scar across her face. A product of her line of work, and said line of work being the reason she’s guzzling wine in the first place.
“Maybe take it easy on the drinks, Utahime.”
She hiccups next to you, slouching in her seat. “I haven’t even had that much to drink!”
“You’ve had most of the wine just on your own!”
“Oh my god, you have one or nine glasses of wine and suddenly you’re wasted,” she mutters sarcastically. “I’m fine.”
You roll your eyes, because you know there’s no going back and forth with her stubborn ass when she starts drinking. 
The living room dims for about three seconds before it lights back up, the show now having gone on commercial break. The rose ceremony is next and despite shit-talking the show only ten minutes ago, you’re eager for the commercials to wrap up so you can see who goes home. It better not be Rachel. You use this brief intermission to go and get some water for yourself but mostly Utahime so she can sober up.
This has been your routine for the last few weeks. Every Monday night, Utahime comes over, peels you out of your bed and forces you on the couch to chug alcohol and watch this ridiculous show. While you find the entire premise of the show nonsensical, you’re grateful for the time it’s given you with Utahime.
You’re fairly new to the Kyoto area and Utahime was the first person you’d met on your first day at your new – how can you put this? – unique job. You see, you and Utahime both work in the field of Jujutsu sorcery. But there’s about where your similarities in the field stop.
Utahime is an active Sorcerer. She’s an instructor raising up the next generation of Sorcerers, building them up so that they can one day join the frontlines to protect the unaware non-Sorcerers of Japan. She’s strong– a grade 1 Sorcerer. Quite impressive. She could easily knock a curse’s head off if she wanted to.
But you? Well, while Utahime is at the top of the ranks of Jujutsu society, you are what some would refer to as a bottomfeeder – an unranked, unimportant, lowly Window. You’re someone who has just enough cursed energy to see a curse. But can you do anything about them? Not unless you want to end up in the nearest trauma center. So if you’re smart, you’ll do your job and whip your phone out to report it so that the real Sorcerers can handle it.
You’ve been in this field for several years now, but working outside of the major cities of Japan. Transferring to Kyoto was your idea of wanting something new and different. Utahime had quickly taken you under her wing. You were certain it was because she took pity on you. A weak, barely gifted Window. But as time went on, you came to realize that that was just Utahime. She was kind and funny, and had a good heart. Well, except when it came to –
“Hey!” Utahime calls from her spot on the couch. You can hear a slur in her words as she speaks and you know she’s opened yet another bottle of wine from who knows where. “Come here! Look at this!” You peer at the television from the doorway of your kitchen and see Utahime has it paused on a very ugly ad. It’s bright white with a background full of red rose petals across the screen. Your eyes roam over the words.
“THE SEARCH IS ON FOR THE ELIGIBLE WOMEN WHO ARE READY TO FIND TRUE LOVE! DO YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAVE THE CHARM, STYLE, AND PERSONALITY TO BE OUR NEXT STAR? IF SO, APPLY OR NOMINATE SOMEONE NOW!”
“Will you hurry up? Come look!” Utahime demands, messily pouring more wine into her glass. But it looks like a normal advertisement to you, so you’re not entirely sure what has Utahime’s interest so piqued.
She beckons you again, yelling “Come here!” So you quickly grab a couple bottles of water from your fridge and head back. Utahime is pointing insistently at the screen. “Look. Look really hard.”
You follow the path where her finger points, shuffling closer to the t.v. to get a clearer look. It takes a moment for you to see it, like really see it, but it’s definitely there. Underneath the last line, hidden from the eyes of those unable to see the horrors that you and those like Utahime can, is another message. You fall to your knees, eyes glued to the tiny additional message floating beneath, glowing with cursed energy that reads, “JUJUTSU SorcererS PREFERRED”. 
Confusion slowly takes over your features, the corners of your lips turning down with a frown, a brow arched and skepticism in your eyes. Were you missing something? Was this some sick joke? Were Jujutsu Sorcerers huge fans of The Bachelor or something? You spin around to face your friend who has a look of mischief twinkling in her eyes. You know it all too well, mouth falling open and a finger pointing when you scream “NO” at the exact moment Utahime yells “YOU SHOULD APPLY!”
“Absolutely not!” You must be looking at Utahime like she’s grown two more heads because she looks just as confused as you.
“Why not?! You’d be great on there!”
Maybe she hasn’t grown two more heads. Maybe her brain was swapped while you were in the kitchen because why the hell was she suggesting this?
“Well, for starters, I’m not really looking to date.”
Utahime rolls her eyes, as if that’s just not a good enough excuse. You should just ignore her, snatch the remote from her hand and hit play so you can get back to the show and see who this guy chooses to potentially get engaged to. But for some reason (could be the single drop of wine your friend allowed you to have while she downed the rest), you feel the need to keep listing off reasons to not sign up. “Secondly, I– why would I even want to go on this show?”
Utahime sips her wine, eyes low as she falls into her drunkenness, but you can still see the sparkle of mischief in those brown hues…and it scares you. So you keep talking, chatting away and listing excuse after excuse to your friend, eventually finding yourself back on the couch trying to drive your final point home.
“Besides, they want Sorcerers.” This seems to get Utahime’s attention again, makes her set her glass down as she looks at you.
“I’m sure it’s fine. You are a Sorcerer.”
“I’m a Window.”
“Semantics. You can see curses, can’t you?” Utahime argues.
“...yes.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “But I can’t do anything about them.”
It’s not something you should be ashamed of, but there’s just the tiniest bit of you that is ashamed. Because being able to see these monsters and not having the power to do anything about them…well, it feels like a curse in and of itself.
To this, she sighs. “Sorcerers, Windows. They’re just terms used by the higher-ups to keep their stupid, fucked up heirarchy intact.”
You know it’s the wine that’s loosened her tongue. In public, Utahime would not dare to speak so freely. The Jujutsu politics in Kyoto were a lot stricter than they were in Tokyo. Not that that said much anyway. The politics were shit regardless. But Utahime worked closely with those connected to the higher-ups, so outside of this little bubble in your apartment, she kept pretty hush hush about her true feelings.
You watch Utahime closely as she fiddles with her wine glass. She really is beautiful. You think she’d be incredible on a show like this. Which gives you the idea.
“What don’t you apply?”
Utahime leans back, a cackle so loud and abrupt leaving her tiny body.
“No way. I would never date any of these Sorcerers.”
“And you want me to?!” You ask incredulously. You don’t know whether to be offended or not.
Your friend fixes you with a deadpan stare. “You don’t know them the way I do. The only good one out of all of them is Nanami Kento…and Shoko.” She mutters the last name quietly, like it’s a secret that she thinks so highly of her. And maybe it is a secret…the way she feels about the doctor in Tokyo who you couldn’t help but notice has Utahime’s cheeks glowing red whenever she’s mentioned.
“Besides,” Utahime continues. “If I signed up for this and got paired with Gojo –” she shudders at the mere thought of being near the man. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from projectile vomiting just at the prospect of having to kiss him.”
It’s your turn to laugh obnoxiously now, because – “Why the hell would the strongest Sorcerer in a thousand years sign up for this shit? You don’t think he has anything better to do? Like, you know…keep all of Japan safe?”
“Satoru Gojo does whatever Satoru Gojo wants.”
You can’t argue with that. Utahime would know best. She did grow up with him after all. She knew him well. You’ve never met the man, being just a Window, you doubt you ever will. Out of all the Sorcerers, you’ve only ever met Utahime and Principal Gakuganji. You’ve never even met any of the students. You all run in different circles, but that doesn't mean you don’t keep up with the going-ons of the Jujutsu world. Everyone knows Satoru Gojo.
“You should really sign up, though,” Utahime suggests once more. “You might meet a good person. If anything, you’ll get a good vacation out of it.” With that, she stands. It’s clear that the wine is hitting her again, because she wobbles clumsily to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
If it’s anything like every other week before this, you’ll be peeling Utahime out of your bathtub because she will have inevitably fallen asleep.
Your eyes fall back on the hidden message on the television, reading it over and over before you finally just hit play and let the finale finish.
Joey chooses whatever that girl’s name is. You’re only halfway paying attention because against your better judgment, you’re actually thinking about applying to this. But you think the show is stupid, right? Why would you waste your time? But what if Utahime is right? What if you do meet someone? It’s not that you’re against dating. You’re just not actively in the market for romance because you’ve found that dating non-Sorcerers is more stress than it’s worth.
The constant obligation you feel to regulate their emotions so you can avoid the creation of a cursed spirit that you’ll have to call in and do paperwork for? Exhausting. Not to mention, if you ever grew to truly love this person, you’d be overwhelmed with guilt if a curse manifested and harmed them in any way and you couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as you made a phone call.
You’d never really given any thought to it, but perhaps dating a Sorcerer is what you needed. You could end up meeting an amazing man!
But also, semantics or not, you were not technically a Sorcerer. You were simply a Window. Why the hell would an actual Sorcerer want to be with you? Better yet, what were the chances of this show even choosing you as their next Bachelorette?
- - - - - -
Apparently, the chances were extremely high, because one phone call, four video interviews, a nearly five hour drive from Kyoto to Tokyo, and days of promotional video and photo shoots later, you find yourself standing outside of the Bachelor Mansion, donning the most expensive gown that money could buy.
This is not what you expected. Not at all. There is so much going on. You want to run and hide from every single camera you see being propped up. You want to curl into yourself when the lights come on and the director calls, “Action!” And you see some man you’re just meeting for the first time approaching as he speaks directly to the camera.
“...and she’ll be making history tonight as The Bachelorette’s first Jujutsu Sorcerer,” you hear him tell the camera as he stops just a few feet short of you. Tall, blonde and handsome. He looks like an American football player. “I’m Jesse Palmer, ladies and gentleman. Now, let’s meet our Bachelorette!”
He turns to you, wearing a bright smile. The cameras follow, moving closer to catch a close-up of your face, so you smile as naturally as you can and try not to flinch when Jesse moves forward to embrace you in a swift hug.
Jesse calls your name as though you’ve been friends for a long time. “So nice to finally see you. You look great.”
The camera pans down your body and back up to your face. “Likewise, Jesse.”
“How’re you feeling?” he asks.
“I’m nervous! Definitely nervous, but feeling good! I’m so excited for this,” you lie. You’re dreading this process. But it’s too late to back out now. So you just hold your smile, conversing politely as Jesse makes small talk and gets to know you before the first contestant pulls up.
And you hope that if Utahime is watching, she sees the message behind your eyes screaming that you’re absolutely going to kill her.
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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Candlelit Surprise
Pairing: Yuuji Itadori x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, slightly suggestive, blindfold, anniversary surprise, teasing, referenced temperature play. Yuuji is a sweetheart
Word count: 0.5k
Flufftober Day 16: Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights
A/N: Chose to focus on the candles flufftober prompt since I had this really cute idea for a while now.
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A blindfold usually meant a very fun night but you never had it on before getting into bed. What Yuuji was doing now, walking you through your shared apartment was very suspicious indeed. It did also make you quite curious as to what he had planned, "Can't I get a hint at least?"
"If I gave you a hint it would ruin the surprise. Besides I feel like you already have an idea. I really don't know why I bothered with the blindfold in the first place. The real clue is the scent." He paused and groaned to himself, "Shit, I ruined it." Not like you didn't have your suspicions with all the food he's been buying lately.
"I think it's both kinky and romantic. The blindfold that is. And I could still act surprised if it will make you feel better." Not that you were the best actress but you would try your best for Yuuji because he always gave it his all for you. In every situation, big or small.
His hands squeezed your shoulders a little tighter as you approached the dinining room. You could feel his hands shaking, feel his nervous breath on the back of your neck. You wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be scared, you'll like what ever he has prepared for your anniversary.
"Okay." Yuuji's hands squeezed your shoulders one more time before he walked in front you, "And… drop the blindfold!"
A big grin was the first thing you saw, then his soft, fluffy, spiky pink hair and then finally the whole room lit with many little candles, giving Yuuji's already warm smile an even warmer glow. "Y-Yuuji… all this… and dinner… you didn't have to go this far."
"Maybe not but I did, for my cute girlfriend. Happy anniversary babe." You tackled him in a crushing hug that you knew he could withstand and return. "I'm glad you like my gift."
It was perfect, it was romantic, it was… hold on a minute, all these candels… "Hey… wait… was this what all the candles were for? The ones you bought and put into our bedroom closet." That made more sense.
"Yeah? What did you think they were for?" You were suddenly very shy, very eager to hide your face, "Oh! No, well we could try! But not with these, I think it might be a bit dangerous." Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck as he blushed along with you, only now realizing how him putting the candles in the bedroom closet could look. "I'll see if I can find us some safer ones to use for… that kind of thing. I don't want to burn you."
"I would also apprciate if you didn't mention this after this. God I feel so stupid! I even bought special lingerie!" Yuuji's eyebrows shot up, his attention back on you, "Nope. After we eat. Then you may go into that bedroom and wait for me to show you my gift. Sound fair?"
He seemed to deflate a little but still remained hopeful for later, "Whatever my girl wants. Now how about that food? I cooked almost all day." God, you had the best boyfriend in the whole damn world.
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reconnaissance (1/3)
Bucky Barnes x f!reader
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Reader goes on a recon mission with the White Wolf himself, formerly the Winter Soldier, which goes awry.
(a.k.a. you two idiots are clearly in love but don't do anything about it, until circumstances become so heightened that you are forced to)
masterlist ▪︎ word count: <1k
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"Come in, do you copy?"
You keep walking, ignoring Bucky's increasingly grating tone in your earpiece.
"Respond, do you hear me? Meet back at the rendezvous in 2 minutes." Bucky tries again, seemingly deciding that this recon stint is done and dusted. Without even consulting you.
"I know what I'm doing, Buck." You keep up your pace, tailing the man you're supposed to gather intel on. He rounds the corner and unlocks a room, presumably his own office on the base, and disappears inside. "I'll meet you as soon as I'm finished."
"You are finished." Bucky snaps right back. He's only a block away, but he's getting worried that if something were to happen to you, he wouldn't make it on time. "We're only meant to scout the area, assess their operation. Not tail them right inside their fuckin' HQ."
"Woah there, grandpa, watch your language." You smirk, and you can picture him grinding his teeth in frustration. Why is he so worried anyhow? From what you've gathered, this organization is made up of a bunch of blip fanatics who want to restore the world to how Thanos left it. Balanced, sure, as the old shriveled grape said. But also in chaos - with everyone sufferring loss and living listlessly.
These people are insane. And insane is easy to handle, as far as you're concerned. Not one of the big 3 - aliens, androids, and wizards - just pure idiotic nutters.
Bucky has resorted to pacing on the roof of the dilapidated apartment complex he uses as a viewpoint. "Something's not right here. The man you're tailing was never meant to head to their HQ today. I have a feeling they found us out."
"Did they also figure that I would not give a rat's ass about that and - "
"Take the bait?" Bucky interjects.
"No. That I would beat them at their own game. " You whisper irately. You pause when the man comes out of his office and walks away from where you hide. "Wait, I'm going in."
"Don't do anything stupid, doll." Bucky pleads. For a moment, you want to cave in. He no longer sounds bossy, or annoying, like he tends to be on missions where it's just the two of you. He usually tells you to stick to the plan, to stick with him. Like you're incapable of going off on your own. Sure, he has decades more experience, and the effects of a Super Soldier serum to boot, but you wish he would just trust you. But he sounds like he's either desperate to get back home and get this shit over with, or he actually cares that much about you. "Just come back to me. Now. "
"Bucky," you breathe, steadying yourself. "C'mon. This'll be just like that time in Gdansk."
He feels an ounce of relief creeping in. Maybe you're right. "Then I'll be waiting for you, doll. Like always."
Doll. That still sends shivers up your spine. But he doesn't have to know that, does he? You walk up to the office door, and try to make quick work of the lock. "I won't be long. And quit calling me doll."
"What then? Princess?"
"No."
"Sweetheart? Has a nice ring to it." He counters quickly. He must have been sitting on this one for a while.
"Bucky - "
"Yes, darlin'?"
"Alright, that's it. I'm done with this conversation." You warn him, but the colouring on your cheeks betray your tone. Good thing he's not around to call you out on it. The lock gives way, and the door creaks open. "I'm in."
"Damn it." You hear him mumble to himself, seconds later. "Why does she never listen? I think she's actually trying to kill me. Give me a damn heart attack."
"That's likely, isn't it?" You give an unsolicited response. "Considering that you're about 100 years old."
"106, actually." He quips back, pinching the bridge of his nose, tapping his foot, taking deep breaths. He tries everything to calm down and not agonize over you. But nothing works. Bucky doesn't know what he would do if anything were to happen to you.
No. That's not quite right. He doesn't know what he wouldn't do - because he would do anything, kill anyone, just to get you back.
And you just can't seem to grasp that. Though it might have something to do with how he constantly hovers over you like an overprotective older brother, with Sam once remarking how you've got yourself a personal bodyguard. You think that's all it is - Bucky being a nice guy. Bucky watching your back as you would do the same for him. Bucky wanting to keep you in line, so that the missions would go smoothly, especially since he is technically acting as your superior.
You don't see how Bucky's gaze lingers a bit too long on your lips when you relay your mission reports to him. How his hand often finds itself hovering over the small of your back when you walk side by side. You don't know that he observed (not stalked, according to him) how your date played out with that one fellow agent that asked you out. How he tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle when you invited that agent back to your apartment.
And how he made arrangements to have that agent indefinitely reassigned to Eastern Europe the week after.
The office you enter is encased in shadow, the window shutters all lowered. You're careful not to turn on any switches, so as not to trigger alarms. With steady hands, you raise your Beretta 92FS before you, the accompanying flashlight illuminating the room.
Then you see it. A map of the city pinned to a board covering the east wall.
"Talk to me," Bucky barks in your ear. "What do you see?"
"Jackpot." You can't help but grin. Breaking Bucky's rules pays off after all. This'll show him. "It looks like some blueprint for how they plan to infiltrate the city. Red markings for the areas where they will release the poison in the water supply."
"And how the hell do you know that?"
"Well, boss," you roll your eyes. "probably because there's a note at the bottom of the damn map that says release poison in water supply."
"Oh."
Yeah. Oh.
"Don't take it with you," he starts, but you beat him to it.
"Course I won't. I've already got the whole thing memorized to a tee."
"Get out of there. Now." Bucky emphasizes, and you don't know whether to be touched by how worried he sounds.
"Alright, alright, keep your hair on." Taking one final look at the scene, you head back to the door. But the handle doesn't budge. "That's weird."
At that, Bucky knew something was definitely not right. As if he did not already warn you stay out of there. His blood runs cold, and he springs into action before you can say anything further. Sprinting down the street, he tries to get you to keep talking. "I told you not to do this, doll. I told you."
"I can handle it." But the door stays closed. It doesn't even respond to your exceptional lock-picking skills. You hear a whooshing sound to your right, like a mechanical panel opening. At once, you get into a defensive stance, gun at the ready.
You don't see anything, but you can smell it. It's some kind of gas. A strong sedative, you recall from your training.
"Oh, shit." You mutter. Holding your breath can only keep you safe for so long.
"Goddamnit," Bucky curses while running, not even out of breath, "it's gas, isn't it? I knew it, I just knew it, doll!"
"I'll try the windows." You offer, but quickly find out they're of no use. Sealed shut, like the door.
Bucky's rambling now, desperate. "Should've listened... you should've... stay with me, doll. Stay with me."
You still hear his voice as white spots flood your vision. Dread sinks in as you succumb to the sensation, but you steel yourself. You will get through this. You will.
Especially when you've got Bucky promising, "I'm coming for you, doll. No one is taking you from me."
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(a/n) yes, I've rewatched tfatws again. Which prompted this lil thing. Not that I was not absolutely besotted with our Bucky for a good long time back in the day (still am). Are y'all more for Steve or Bucky? Both would be better ofc, but I've never been able to choose. Let me know! 🤷🏻‍♀️💙
part 2 coming shortly!
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andysorbit · 10 months
Text
Home (M)
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non idol!Jaehyun x fem!reader
Warnings: angst, smut, oral sex (male receiving), semi public, dirty talk, cum swallowing, lowkey breeding kink, light snowballing
genre: smut, romance, slice of life
word count: >1K
note: I had me a lil Jaehyun brain rot at like an hour ago and I had to get this off my chest. do I love it? no but the thought wouldn't let me sleep.
part 2 can be found here
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Jaehyun fumbles with a loose thread on his t-shirt. You stare on in silence, waiting for him to say something.
"I uh... you wanna go to the store with me?" he asks awkwardly.
You two were arguing again. This time, over finding a new apartment to move into. You liked the new building that was almost complete a few blocks away but Jaehyun was more than happy to move up to the top floor of the building you already live in.
You both had wanted it when you moved in and the plan was to take it once it became vacant but that new building sure is a lot prettier.
"No, I don't wanna go anywhere with you," You reply as you cross your arms.
He shrugs, "Well then don't ask for shit because I'm not bringin' you shit. You want it, come get it."
"Fine. I'll come but you better not say shit to me," You sigh as you turn to get your wallet off of the dresser.
"The fuck are you bringing your wallet for? Leave it. I'll pay," he says peevishly.
"Fuck you and your money. I'll pay for my own shit," You snap as you shove your wallet into your back pocket.
Jaehyun scoffs, "Fuck you too. I'll be in the car. Hurry up or I'm leaving and you can walk," he says as he heads out.
"Leave if you want to- watch me change those locks before your flat ass gets back!" You call out.
A "fuck you, my ass is fine!" booms through the apartment and then you hear the front door slam.
You roll your eyes and decide to take your time getting to the car.
Once inside the car, you sit in silence as Jaehyun drives. The silence is thick and you keep your eyes out the window. The night air is cool and you roll your window up a bit.
Jaehyun does the same, "There's an ice cream sale at the grocery store across town so that's where we're going... in case you were wondering."
"But did I ask?" You mumble.
Jaehyun sighs, "Well, I figured you would eventually since you question everything I do anyway."
"When have I ever questioned you?" You scoff as you turn to glare at Jaehyun.
"This whole shit with the goddamn apartment! That was the plan since we moved in- take the smaller one and wait it out and if it wasn't available by the time we hit thirty, then we'd look elsewhere- so now- literally not even a whole fucking year later, you wanna deviate from the plan and keep asking me if I'm sure I don't wanna leave altogether! Like I'm too stupid to know what I want!" he yells.
"I never said you were!" You yell back.
"Really? 'Oh, c'mon, Jae... are you sure? Really just think about it. I think if you really think about it, you'd like it.' I did think about it and I still don't like it! The top floor gives you the view of the water just like you wanted, we're good with all of our neighbors, most of what we need is within walking distance- this is a fucking penthouse that's in our budget- why are you not happy about this?"
"Well I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you that I talked with the owner of the building."
"You're gonna fucking leave me? Over a goddamn apartment? Really Y/n?"
You groan, "No, Jaehyun! The owner was telling me about the floorplans and there's no space for expanding the family if we move in. That's what I was gonna tell you before you got your lil attitude. Fuck!"
"Oh shit, really?" he asks incredulously. The crease he's had in his brow all day finally softens and he purses his lips.
"Yeah... The closets are too small, he canceled the balcony plans, the kitchen is more like a kitchenette, and there's no room for a washing machine or a dryer so we'll lose more than we gain... You thought I was gonna dump you for an apartment?"
"I dunno. Maybe? I'm sorry but like... we've been fighting a lot and I didn't know what to think," he replies sheepishly.
"The day our arguments become sexless, prepare for the worst because that's when you should be worried about me leaving. You're my home, okay? Whether we stay where we are, or move upstairs, or move into a boat- I just wanna be with you."
Jaehyun laughs softly, "Well since that's resolved... You said my ass is flat. Apologize."
You smile and lean over to kiss him softly, "Push your seat all the way back, daddy... I'll apologize."
Jaehyun presses the button on the side of his seat and slowly he moves backwards. It brings a funny lightness to this moment.
When he's as far back as he can go, he leans the seat back then his hand comes up to grab you by the back of your head and he brings you in for a searing kiss.
His tongue licks against yours as his free hand gets his pants open, "D'you know how fucking hot you are when you're angry?" he purrs.
You reach down to palm him through his jeans, "Is that why you're so hard?" You sigh as you shift enough to lean over.
"I love it because I get to put you back in your place after... now get to it," he says and pushes your head down.
He hits the back of your throat and you moan as you suck him hungrily.
"Such a good girl... just like that... yeah, baby," he sighs as his hand gently strokes your head.
You hum as you take him in as far as you can and Jaehyun holds you there for a moment before pulling you up to kiss him, "Not so quick to talk shit now, huh?" he says and pushes you back down.
He holds your head steady as he fucks into your mouth. You moan and gag around him, "Take it, slut," he moans.
And you do take it; each slow thrust. Every time the head of his cock hits your throat, you moan. You can feel your panties getting soaked and you squeeze your thighs together.
Jaehyun's thrusts get sloppy, "Gonna swallow daddy's cum like a good girl, right?" he sighs.
You hum eagerly. Hot cum shoots into your mouth and you greedily milk his cock for every drop you can get. You slowly ease him out of your mouth before giving the head of his cock a soft suck; hoping for more.
"God... every time you do something like this... all I can think about is how much of my cum we're wasting because... fuck..." He trails off as you continue to suck on the head of his cock.
"As much as I love seeing you swallow, I'd much rather pump that little pussy with my cum til it's leaking out... maybe get you pregnant... You wanna be full of my cum, right?"
You nod.
"Fuck... tell me you're mine... say it," he sighs as he pulls you back up to kiss him. He licks into you mouth and you share the traces of his cum that's left.
"I'm yours, daddy," You mumble against his lips.
He presses his forehead to yours, "Yeah fuckin' right you are," he chuckles.
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stylesparker · 7 months
Text
together again
PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.1k
WARNINGS: ex-bestfriend!steve, bullying, panic attack, anxiety, mentioned parent death, angst, hurt/comfort, "i've got you"
A/N: sorry this request took so long, but I hope you enjoy anon! Thank you for checking with me first, and I hope this can offer you a little more comfort! <33
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"Are you even listening to me?"
"Huh?" You knock yourself out of your stupor and look at Steve, his eyes gazing gravely at you. His arms are crossed, his hair is all styled up to perfection like always, and you think to yourself- how is it that you've been paired up with Steve Harrington, again, for another stupid project? Why you, of all people?
You definitely have to be cursed.
"You heard me, right?" He confirms. "My house after school?"
You nod, almost rolling your eyes a bit. "Yeah, totally." You huff before you ask, "since when have you been one to get a head start on school work?"
He chuckles, but it sounds more sarcastic than genuine, "Since I needed a good grade in this class to graduate, L/N. I'll see you later." He pushes off the wall, sauntering away in those stupid ass jeans that actually kind of make his ass look good. You shake your head, looking away from the boy and turn to face your locker once more.
As soon as you close it with your backpack over your shoulder, you hear familiar whistles coming towards you down the hallway.
Shit.
You start walking, hoping within an inch of your life these shitheads aren't coming to you, but you know better. A hand clamps over your shoulder, squeezing a little too hard for you to know exactly who it is.
Justin Andrews, the biggest dick in Hawkins.
"Heya, sweetheart, you miss me?" He laughs right into your ear.
"Not exactly."
"Oh, I know you did. Where ya' been? Haven't seen you around all week, was sorta starting to miss this pretty ass." His friends laugh beside him as his hand drifts down your shoulder and smacks your ass, catching you off guard and making you flinch farther from his hold.
"Been sick." That's all you answer, thinking maybe putting him off with short responses will get him to find somebody else, but again, you know better than to think this will be different than any other time before.
"Damn, that's a shame. I'm sure those kids of yours got a nice break from ya' then huh?" You glare at him as he offers a wide-grinned smile, winking at you before leaving you with another smack to the ass as a parting gift. As Justin and his pack of friends depart, you hurry away as fast as you can down the hall and out the doors before they can even think of coming back.
Once you finally get to your car and get inside, you throw your stuff to the passenger seat and take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. There was no way you were going to last period after that, and besides, your youngest little brother needed to be picked up from daycare today anyway. Luckily your other four siblings are a bit older and take the bus now, otherwise you probably would have dropped out at this point. You take another deep breath and drive off in hopes of getting your brother quickly, and home on time so you don't show up late to Steve's.
You do not want to deal with an angry Steve.
...
As the universe would have it, everything was against you today.
First, you almost got hit by some drunk pulling out of the bar halfway to the daycare. Once you got to the daycare, you had to wait half an hour since your brother had a tantrum and didn't want to leave in the middle of snack time. By the time you got him out of there, and into your car in his blue booster seat, it had been another 20 minutes. Usually it's about a 15 minute drive home from the daycare, but it ended up being a half hour due to traffic. After you finally made it home, you got a call from your boss asking you to come in again later tonight to take another extra shift since your shitty co-worker hasn't been showing up for two weeks.
At that point, you were about to lose it. You'd just gotten home and now you had to miss another family dinner tonight, much to your brother's disappointment. You wish you had just a moment to breathe, but everything has been so... chaotic lately, it's like you've been running a marathon for a month straight.
You opened the cabinet to see what food was in there, but it was only half a bag of stale potato chips, and a couple boxes of your sisters' favorite cereal. You sighed, holding your empty stomach. Leftovers tonight would have to suffice.
You took a quick glance at the clock at the wall, but did the world's fastest double take when you saw the time 4:30.
SHIT. You think. Steve is going to murder me.
Thankfully, you hear your mom pull in the driveway so at least you're not leaving your brother home alone. You grab your backpack and bolt out the door with your keys in your hand. You scream a quick goodbye to your mom while she watches you pull out of the driveway like a madman, and take off in a rush.
Fifteen minutes later, you're pulling into Steve's huge driveway, slamming the door behind you, and running up to the door with big huffs to try and catch your breath. You knock on the door three times, and pull your hand back down when you see the door already opening in front of you. When the door is opened, you're confronted by the boy you were dreading to see.
"I'm sorry-" you begin to apologize, but Steve immediately cuts you off.
"Are you serious? I asked you if after school worked and you told me it was fine, and now you're an hour and a half late!"
"Steve-" you try again, but he continues. You stand there, taking in his anger and frustration, and all you can do is blankly stare and nod, not even knowing what you're agreeing with. You shut your eyes and look at the ground, willing the tears to stay back while you twist your fingers in your hands. You don't even know when his voice lost its edge or when it even stopped at all, or when you'd been pulled inside and asked if you were alright. Your eyes are still closed, but your head feels like it's going to explode and you can't hear what he's saying. The tears are streaming down your face before you can help it, and your hands start shaking from how hard you're trying to hold back.
Steve's so taken aback, he can't even speak. He hasn't seen you like this in a long time, not since your dad died and you practically became a parent to your siblings. His heart breaks a little bit at the sight of you, and he feels a part of his old self coming back, wanting to comfort you and protect you just like he did growing up. Just like he's done his whole life, apart from the entirety of this year. He doesn't even care he's supposed to hate you and you're supposed to hate him in this moment, all he knows is that he's the only person that can help you right now, and he's going to do just that.
Steve's face loses its concern and he jumps into protective mode, bringing his hands up to hold either side of your face to get you to look at him.
"Sweetheart, I need you to calm down for me, yeah? What's going on, talk to me."
You stubbornly shake your head and refuse to look up at him. Your chest is still heaving rapidly, and he can tell you can't catch your breath.
"Don't be stubborn right now, I can't help you if you don't let me and you need to let me help you. I can't have you passing out on my floor now can I?" He tries to joke, but you don't get distracted, you keep your eyes down even though they've opened. He sighs, dropping one of his hands to grab yours and place them over his chest. "Slow down, take a deep breath, love."
"I-I can't-" you sputter out to the best of your ability, letting your hand ball his shirt up into a fist.
"Yes, you can. Take a good deep breath," you listen to him momentarily, following what he's doing, and when you do he nods and gives you a nice, soft smile, "there ya go, love, you got it. Do it again."
Seeing him be like this for you again brings you back to all those times you've needed him before, the memories almost came flooding back when you heard his loud voice turn soothing in an instant, just for you. His touch had always been grounding, always took off the pressure and allowed you to come back down, and you hadn't expected it to be the same after so much time apart, but now, it's like nothing changed. He's still Steve- he's still your Steve.
That thought alone comforts you more than anything else.
"Steve-" you whisper softly, "I'm so- sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Sweetheart, don't-"
"No, I have to. I've been horrible to you, and now you're helping me- I just-" you drop your head on his chest, and finally tell him everything. "I feel like I've just been going and going non-stop, and today was it, it was my absolute breaking point. After you, and Justin-"
"Justin? Are you- Are you serious? Is he still giving you shit?"
You gulp, "yeah," but you shake your head quickly, "but he's not even the worst thing, I just... ugh," you stop yourself before you start crying again but Steve feels like he knows.
"When's the last time you got some sleep?"
"I don't know.. a couple days ago?"
"Oh my god," he drops his head back and groans, which actually makes you laugh a bit. He immediately looks down at you, realizing the talking stopped you from panicking, or at least distracted you from it. "Hey," he nudged you a bit, getting you to look up at him, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't of yelled at you, and I definitely shouldn't have left you that night-"
"That's not your fault, Steve. I pushed you away."
"Yeah, and I shouldn't have let you."
You look at each other for a moment, like, really look at each other. It's been so long since you've been able to hold each other like this, it almost doesn't feel real.
"C'mon, let's get you something to eat."
"It's fine-" you start, before he cuts you off again.
"No, shut up. If you haven't been sleeping, you definitely haven't been eating either, so let's go." He left no room for debate, so you just took his hand and followed him, letting him lead you through his house.
He gives you a couple of your favorite snacks, since he didn't have any sort of meals yet, but you seemed very content, so he thought it was better than nothing. He let you take your time, rubbed your back while you told him about the rest of your shitty day, and grabbed your hand again when he started up the stairs to his room.
"What about the project?" You asked.
"That can wait. You need some sleep first."
"Steve-"
He shook his head, "Nope. Not happening."
At last, you gave up and followed his lead again, which, as much as you'd hate to admit it, it felt nice letting someone else lead you around for a change instead of the other way around. For so long, it's been you taking charge and always bossing your siblings around, but it feels relieving to have Steve with you again to remind you it didn't always have to be that way.
You pulled back the covers in his bed and laid down, not even having to ask for Steve to join you, him already doing the same on the other side. Almost as if no time had passed, you curled up against one another, resting your head on his chest, and his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.
"Go to sleep. I've got you."
His hands rub gentle circles on your back, soothing you and releasing the tension from your body as you slowly relax enough to fall asleep. You fight to keep your eyes open as long as you can, savoring this moment with him, almost as if he won't be here when you wake up.
"Don't worry, I'll be here."
Those words pull at your heartstrings, making you hold him tighter and bury yourself into him deeper, if you even can. Knowing that you're together again has you finally closing your eyes, and falling into a peaceful sleep.
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supernovafics · 5 months
Text
𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3.2k words
warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)
summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner 
author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Fall 1985
When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen. 
The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.
It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s. 
A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.  
But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together. 
And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.
When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.
And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.
Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening. 
“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”
“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”
“Shit.”
“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.” 
You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago. 
An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.
“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table. 
He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was. 
It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.
“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.
“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.
A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.
“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”
You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.” 
“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”
You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”
Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”
You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.
“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.
She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”
You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.
It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment. 
You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all. 
You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.
Of course, you didn’t say that, though.
Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said. 
You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face. 
“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.” 
“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.
“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”
“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered. 
“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”
You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.
“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.” 
You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs. 
In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.
“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”
You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable. 
“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night. 
You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight. 
The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food. 
You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking. 
“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”
 Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”
“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”
“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”
“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well. 
You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time. 
“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”
A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”
You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.
“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”
“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”
He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”
“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”
“Robin helped me with it.”
“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this. 
The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did. 
Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents. 
But now things were finally different.
“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”
You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.
“Me too,” You said softly. 
“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”
You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”
“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”
You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”
“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”
You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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