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#but then I see them in our group chats talking to everyone

sternbilder · 1 year

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ok so today I had one of the most fascinating and enlightening discussions maybe of my life and I need to share bc it blew my MIND (warning: long)

here's the context. there is a friend I have. they are a pretty good friend of mine that I've known for many years now and I appreciate them as a person very much. lately I have noticed that they've been texting me fairly frequently. which, from my point of view, is once every couple of days. not because they had something specific to say, but just saying hello or asking how my day was.

I'm sure this was well-intentioned, but this was starting to get a tiny bit grating for me. we just met up in person literally two days ago! and you had texted me not long before that, too! nothing new has happened since then! my day has been quite boring, actually! I thought, in my mind, as I swiped away the notification—and immediately felt like an awful friend.

I knew from past experience that responding to the message would invite an immediate and not easily escapable conversation that, due to my poor multitasking skills, would distract me from work or require me to context switch away from whatever else it was I was doing at the moment—cooking, doing chores, watching TV—and worse, amount to little more than idle chit-chat about the same boring quotidian complaints as usual. I am not one of those people who thinks they're above small talk or don't see its social value, but I found myself thinking, am I the one who is being not normal here in not enjoying having this specific kind of interaction MULTIPLE times a week with the SAME person?

so recently, I've been finding myself routinely avoiding opening this particular friend's messages for fear of hurting their feelings if they saw that I had left them on read for a prolonged period of time. I had even gone so far as to avoid posting in a group chat in which we're both participants so that they don't realize that I have, in fact, been online, just not responding to them, specifically. my hope was that after enough slow responses, this friend would eventually get the hint and give up on trying to maintain a steady steam of conversation, but somehow this has not worked so far.

this was starting to weigh on my conscience. I realized that I will have to eventually fight my conflict-avoidant tendencies and just confront this friend directly, for the sake of both my sanity and our friendship. but how to do this gently? tactfully? without implying that I don't value their friendship or that I perceive them as needy or annoying? that was the tricky question. because I know that my friend isn't doing anything wrong! if anything it is probably me that is weird and antisocial and I probably just need to work on my social skills!

but not wanting to feel like a total asshole and hoping to go in with an informed and reasonable mindset (knowing full well that my understanding of social norms isn't always the keenest), I asked a different group chat for their opinion, hoping to gain some perspective on what boundaries they generally considered normal and acceptable to exercise. I phrased my question thusly:

how many friends* would you say you have where you text on a regular basis (say, multiple times a week) 1:1 just to say hi, about nothing in particular *explicitly a friend, not a family member or SO

y'all. the responses were eye-opening.

there were four people who participated in this discussion, all four of whom were in different camps and had wildly different experiences:

0, and assumed most others were the same

0, but assumed most others were not the same

multiple, and assumed most others were the same

multiple, but assumed most others were not the same

1 was me; in retrospect, I am realizing that because I had assumed that these kinds of interactions were not typical, I had interpreted my friend's gesture as something much more significant than it probably was in their mind, which is to say something that they just happen to do with everyone they know and like—which created a sort of pressure in my mind not to let them down and caused a sense of intense anxiety when I found myself struggling to reciprocate. I am absolutely floored at the revelation that it is apparently normal and common for people to have MULTIPLE friends (not even partners!!! or family!!!) that they are talking to on a constant ongoing basis at any given time, and at the possibility that I was treating my friend's feelings with kid gloves when it REALLY wasn't that hashtag deep for them.

2 clarified that they never initiate these kinds of chats, but when others initiate with them, they're fairly comfortable with simply letting these kinds of pings go unanswered, assuming the other person will just move on to someone else without taking it personally.

3 confessed to me that they once tried to do something similar with me, and eventually gave up, but had felt a bit hurt and rejected at my lack of enthusiasm, because they assumed that I was doing this with other people, just not them specifically. they sympathized very strongly with my friend.

4 also recalled that they had at one point tried something similar with me, but sort of got that I wasn't one of those people who would be receptive to this style of communication and wasn't particularly bothered by this, agreeing with 2 that the expectation is not that the recipient HAS to respond, and that my friend should probably pay closer attention to the face-saving social cues I was sending by not responding or responding slowly.

but yeah, the takeaway from this conversation is that people's preferences and experiences and expectations when it comes to digital communication are WILDLY varied, and because both communication technology and the social conventions surrounding them are changing CONSTANTLY (just a few examples: are read receipts good or bad? what about typing indicators? online status? are emoji reacts or gifs/stickers an acceptable substitute for an actual reply? group chats vs. 1:1 DMs? synchronicity and formality of various communication methods like email and chat and video? are phone calls are still socially acceptable?) there are either no agreed-on norms or different camps of people have vastly different understandings of what the norms are

among the other highlights/a-ha moments of this discussion:

Friend 4 asked another friend who is even MORE extraverted than they are what their # was and they reported somewhere in the ballpark of 20-40 people in any given week which is absolutely buckwild to me (importantly, all four of us in the original group happen to be software engineers, a class of people notorious for their lack of sociability, so I have no confidence that I have captured a representative sample size even within this particular group—the numbers both 3 and 4 gave were still both in the single digits, though they are definitely the warmest and friendliest of the bunch)

I realized that one difference between me and 3/4 was that we fulfill our social needs quite differently? specifically, I mostly connect with friends over group chats, of which I have a handful that are quite chatty and at least one or two that I'm actively posting in on any given day. I also typically have at least one, often multiple, real-life social plans every week! I am, in fact, very satisfied with my social life, to the point where it is almost maxing out my social quota (especially recently now that I've started dating someone)! but anyway—I find group chats to be my ideal form of day-to-day communication because there's less urgency and pressure for any individual person to contribute if they're not feeling up for it, and ALSO in the case of group chats where at least one member is a straight man (which is the majority of them for me, and I call out straight men only because they are the only demographic I have historically had this issue with) there is less room for platonic interactions to be undesirably misinterpreted as romantic

3/4 expressed that they prefer 1:1 conversations because they feel more personal and they can be more vulnerable about sensitive topics, which I would generally agree with—though in several of my group chats, I personally do feel comfortable enough with all the members to share things about myself with the entire group just by virtue of having known everyone for a long time and having built group camaraderie, but they seemed to not be comfortable with this without having previously established a consistent 1:1 pattern of day-to-day communication (or maybe they meant they were uncomfortable with the group forum itself, even if they were cool with sharing with everyone individually)?

they also expressed that for them, frequent unsolicited checkins and 1:1 attention from a friend would feel exciting/flattering/validating for them, whereas for me it would feel overwhelming, especially if we weren't THAT close

I do use 1:1 DMs also, but for a very different set of use cases: 1) if I haven't caught up with someone in a while (read: weeks or months), in which case we'll often just not text super long and make plans to call or meet in person instead, or 2) if I have something specific to say, like "here's this meme/song/piece of news I think you'd like to see" or "I need advice on X" or "guess what happened that made me think of you" or "I heard X happened, are you OK?"

I found that whereas I have a very clear distinction between communication preferences with a friend (someone I talk to on a regular basis but don't have a constant line of individual communication with) vs. a significant other (more or less willing to do this, unless they preferred not to), such a boundary between a platonic and romantic relationship does NOT exist for all people which boggled my mind

but yes anyway. I am learning so much about the way people view socializing in the digital age and I am so curious to know more and I kind of wish more people talked about this more openly (specifically among friends! because in my experience this is something that is fairly common to sort out explicitly in a romantic context) because I think this is probably the kind of thing that no one talks about because people are either afraid of potentially hurting feelings or everyone is just kind of assuming by default that their takes are universal without realizing that no actually, many people have strong opinions on this that are the polar opposite of theirs

but my gut feeling is that there is a lot of completely unnecessary friction that could just be resolved if only we could agree that it's cool to be more upfront about what our communication preferences are without worrying about that being taken extremely personally by the other party? bc idk, every single person I talked to about this today was like holy shit this was a whole fucking revelation actually, I can't believe I hadn't thought about this before thank you for bringing this up

#cam thoughts #I still have to talk to original friend #but am thinking maybe doing this next time I see them in person bc I find it so much easier to convey tone not when typing #bc there is an external factor that I suspect may have to do with why they're suddenly reaching out so frequently and I want to be sensitiv #but now I want to know the answer to this question for literally everyone I know. Im SO curious what is actually objectively normal/typical #but my gut tells me that this is like #inherently a delicate question to ask bc it can really make it uncomfortably clear if 2 ppl are not on the same page re:their friendship #also I realized that most of this group are specifically SWEs who have worked ON a chat application in the past.#so of COURSE we all have super strong opinions about literally all of this which is hilarious #also I didn't want to say it but have I definitely been thinking *meme voice* is this attachment theory? this whole time? lowkey mayhaps.#also also if you're reading this and I ever left you on read please do know that I do feel bad about it and I am sorry #final postscript I do not mean to suggest that I never want to be reached out to or checked in on. just. my capacity for social threads #is extremely low so please don't take it personally if I cannot prioritize your message right away or scale back chatting to a slower pace #tl;dr everyone is normal and fine and just different and the sooner we realize this the healthier our digital social lives will become.

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vidavalor · 8 months

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The pub scene is even funnier when you consider that poor Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has likely had this longtime pash on Aziraphale and, like everyone on Whickber Street, he has no idea who exactly The Ginger Goth With The Old Car is. He knows the prevailing theory is mafia but Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets has seen Ginger Goth hanging around Mrs. Sandwich and her "Sandwich Shop" and also around the bookshop a bit and also some naked guy was also at the bookshop recently, so... what's the likeliest conclusion drawn by Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets? That the old bookseller's lonely and paying for it.

He sees them come into the pub and thinks Aziraphale is classy like that and is taking the sex worker for a drink first or maybe that's part of it-- he's gone the whole 'boyfriend experience' route. Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets sees Aziraphale with that chest stroke of that Thin Dark Duke he's paying and while Mr. Brown (of Brown's World of Carpets, just FYI) isn't here to judge and gets it as he's lonely, too... and while he does think the bookseller picks some hot ones... he wants to give Mr. Fell the real thing. The kind of love you can only get between two middle-aged, still-sorta-closeted queers like they are. He'll be someone the bookseller can talk to and find some genuine chemistry with, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets will be, so he decides to shoot his shot and knows the bookseller is skittish from their past interactions, so he goes for the meeting option. He'll have to come over to drop off the chairs, of course. Give them an excuse to talk more, alone, when Mr. Fell is not, erm, entertaining.

And poor Mr. Brown--President of the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Traders Association, Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets is-- fine, upstanding, boring as all holy fuck fella... He's met by Crowley coming over with drinks and a greeting that says this is neither the first time, nor, he doubts, will it be the last that he's had to Husband the bookseller but again, Mr. Brown of Oh, You Know By Now thinks this is a bit, so he's not intimidated.

"I was just absolutely hitting on him for real, unlike you," is what he basically told Crowley when explaining what they were chatting about.

And Crowley's like lol you got him flustered enough to host this meeting. Good on you, Mr. Whoever the Fuck You Are from Whatever Shop You Run. Look at you *go*. 😍 I've got a new favorite human, Aziraphale.

He's all "you astonish me" to Aziraphale, teasing him like you're leading the poor, balding bastard on, angel. I know it's hard for you to reign in your divine sex appeal but you should maybe try. His heart is only human, after all.

Mr. Brown still thinks Crowley's a sex worker though so he doesn't give up and is all like remember, Mr. Fell, our date is right after work on Thursday in a group setting to set you at ease but I'll see you first to set it all up because I want you and I want to make sure you know I'm not just here for the business meeting.

Crowley: That's it-- I'm adopting you, Ballsy Mr. Carpet. I like your style. But you'll never wear my angel down. We've been married for 6,000 years. I am definitely up for saving you from some demons on Thursday though and making it rain on you and literally any fruity, single shop owner in the greater metro area next season. You're on the deck after my shop lesbians. Now piss off, Mr. Barnes. We haven't been to the pub in ages and you're in my seat.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #mr brown #of Brown's world of carpets #good omens 2 #aziracrow

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propertyofwicked · 12 days

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ROOKIE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - none! just fluff (not proofread), oblivious reader and lando

part 2 !!

masterlist the playlist

the sun was shining brightly over the racetrack, casting on the 4 karts, lined up behind the group. max stood behind the camera, making sure everyone was in frame before running round to join Lando. at his other side stood y/n - long term friend of the two, and unofficial quadrant member.

lando flashed a wide grin at the camera.

“hey, everyone!” he announced, clapping his hands together, “welcome back to the quadrant channel. today, we have something special for you. me and max are going to teach our karting rookie here how to drive on a track like a pro,” he add, hands moving to gesture in y/n direction.

she smiled, waving awkwardly at the camera. it wasn’t her first time featuring on the channel, but she usually made small appearances when the whole team filmed. at the start, viewers had assumed she was lando’s girlfriend, noticing the way the two interacted with each other. but she wasn’t - not to say there wasn’t anything between the two of them, but they were just too stubborn to talk about it.

“you nervous?” lando asked her, smiling lightly.

“no different to driving a car right?” she replied, smiling back at him.

“not the way you drive, i guess,” he retorted, earning a light slap to his arm.

“so!” max started, clapping too as he faced the camera, “we’re starting y/n off in the lowest powered kart, and working our way up. when she’s comfortable, we’re going to have a small competition,” he added, his tone holding emphasised mystery.

it was y/n turn to speak to the camera.

“do i also need to clap when i start my sentence?” she asked max, grinning as she did. y/n could see niran burst into laughter behind the camera, all too familiar with the “who claps the most” argument.

“sorry, sorry,” she jokingly defended, holding up her hands when she caught max and lando both giving her a look filled with distaste. she turned back to the camera, “we will be seeing if the student really becomes the master, as i take on lando in a time-trialled race.”

the group moved closer to the first kart, y/n zipping up the rest of her protective clothing as they moved, balancing her helmet in the crevice of her arm.

“right, helmet on!” lando told her, though he moved to tuck loose hairs, that had fallen from her ponytail, behind her ears before grabbing the helmet from her, pushing it over her head. his hands rested on the side for a moment, wobbling her head slightly before moving to pop the visor up and look her in the eyes.

“comfortable?” he asked her, watching as she nodded, “ready?”

she hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. y/n wasn’t worried about injuring herself, no, she feared that she would do a bad job and the video wouldn’t be a good watch.

“you’ll be fine, angel, i promise,” he reassured her, his fingers moving to pull the zip of her suit up further, “if not, we blame max,” he joked. the two of them looked at the man stood on the other side of the kart, who quickly turned his head as though he hadn’t been watching the two interact, wondering when they’d figure whatever this was out. though he didn’t supposed it mattered, if this footage was left in the viewers would be quick to point it out, as they always did.

“it’s ok - if something bad happens, you’re the one that has to tell my mum,” y/n replied with a shrug, trying to grin despite her face being squashed.

“bagsy not me this time!” max called out.

“not fair! i did it last time!” lando shouted back childishly.

“in max’s defence, last time was your fault, lan,” y/n chimed in, patting his shoulder, “and all you did was leave a voicemail!”

“hiya, it’s lando - just letting you know y/n is in the hospital, but she’s fine. probably,” max mimicked, recalling the way lando left quite possibly the worst voicemail anyone had ever.

“not my finest moment, i’ll admit,” lando replied quietly before trying to manoeuvre the woman in front of him towards the kart.

y/n moved to climb into the first kart, her hand gripping tightly at lando’s arm to use as support before she sat down fully. he squatted down next to her, max following suit on the other side, before explaining the basics to her - when to brake, when to speed up, when to take a corner wide.

“last thing - the steering wheel,” he continued, making sure the mic could pick up his voice. his hands reached out to grab hers, placing them in the correct position on the wheel.

“what about the pedals?” she asked him.

“the same as normal? accelerator….brake?” he added, smiling as he pointed to each pedal as though it was obvious.

y/n nodded up at him, before grabbing the steering wheel and pretending to drive, making a ‘neeyowwwm’ noise as she did.

“she’s fine,” max laughed out, “strap her in and we’ll get started. oh, y/n don’t forget you have a the mic and the headset so we can communicate as you go round the track.”

“you’re doing great!” lando’s voice sounded through her earpiece, full of encouragement, “brake a little earlier for this next turn.”

y/n grinned, confidence growing with each lap. she was now onto the last kart, one lap left before she was supposed to race lando.

“how’s that?”

“perfect! you’re a natural,” he praised, his pride evident.

“i’m gonna kick your ass,” she threatened as she neared the finish line.

“looking forward to it,” lando remarked, this time in person as he stepped towards the side of her kart, “10 minute break before we race?”

“please,” she replied, nodding up and moving her hands to undo the straps before pushing herself up to step out from the kart. her balance faltered slightly as she did, though lando’s arms had shot out, his hands gripping her waist to steady her as she stepped out from the kart. even when y/n was fine to walk alone, lando’s hands never left, his hand firmly positioned on her lower back as they walked towards max.

“how was that,” max asked her, his eyes darting from lando to the woman who was struggling to pull her helmet off.

“really good,” she replied with an enthusiastic nod once lando had helped to pull the helmet from her head, “not sure on that last corner but we’ll see how it goes.”

“seemed alright on that last lap,” max reassured her, though he couldn’t help but notice the way lando looked at her face, smiling fondly as she explained how she might approach the race.

“right, it is finally time!” max called out, facing the camera as y/n took a seat in the kart behind him, “the moment we have all been waiting for. lando norris, formula one racer versus karting rookie y/n.”

“karting rooki- max i have so many better attributes to describe me?” y/n called out jokingly.

“sorry - lando norris, formula one racer versus ‘nine points on her license’ y/n!” he joked, “is that better?”

“NINE? i do not have nine points on my license?” she retorted, “it’s like 3?”

“it’s nine,” lando interrupted with a snort as he crouched down next to her to check her straps were tight enough, “two counts of speeding, and that one time you ran a red light - am i wrong?” he added with a grin.

y/n shook her head at him, though her silence confirmed his claim. the three moved on quickly, y/n finding herself breathing in sharply as lando pulled on the straps too hard, tightening them around her ribs.

“sorry,” he mumbled, loosening them slightly, “breathe out f’me,” he added, checking that she had room, before muttering a quick perfect as she did.

anyone who believed lando would go easy on y/n was a fool. she’d managed a good few overtakes, took corners well and maintained her speed, but as they approached the last lap lando seemed to slip further away. even with her foot to the floor, her kart was slowing more and more until the engine fully gave up, spluttering a few times before dying.

“well this is embarrassing,” she announced, looking into the gopro attached to the kart as she did.

“hold still for a moment, y/n,” max said through her headset, “need lando to stop before you can get out.”

so y/n sat, waiting for lando to stop so that she could climb out from the kart and do her walk of shame back to base. but she didn’t have to wait long before she saw lando jogging towards her.

“you good?” he asked her on approach, his helmet long abandoned with his kart.

“the engine just died on me,” she told him, annoyed.

“i told max i thought i could hear it struggling when i passed you,” he told her, holding out his hand for her to climb out, “however, can’t have you not finish your first ever karting race.”

“what?”

“climb on,” lando told her, crouching slightly and tapping his back for her to climb on.

y/n didn’t argue, she knew she’d lose. so she stood behind him, bouncing slightly before jumping onto his back, his hands moving to grab her legs and her arms wrapping around his neck loosely. he started running towards the finish line, y/n clinging tightly onto him whilst mimicking car noises, lando laughing loudly as she did.

“you two look like you’ve been doing this for years,” max called out, breathing through his laughter at the sight in front of him.

“we have,” they said in unison as they approached him. max knew this - he himself had fallen victim to giving y/n a piggyback a fair few times over the years - however it didn’t make the situation less funny to him.

lando placed y/n down with a soft thud, before realising something, his eyes widening.

“wait who won?”

“what do you mean ‘who won’?” she asked confused, “my engine died, lando.”

“i didn’t cross the line,” he whined, “i went to get you before i crossed it.”

“funny you should ask,” max interrupted, using the opportunity to turn to the camera set up, “we ran the VAR and…”

“are you waiting for a drumroll or…?” lando asked impatiently.

“don’t be mean,” y/n told him, slapping his arm lightly, “god forbid you not be so competitive for once.”

“so!” max started again, knowing their bickering could last hours if he didn’t interrupt, “we ran the VAR and you’ll be glad to know that….y/n - your foot was the first to cross the line!”

“yes!” she cheered, pumping her fist dramatically.

“how is that right? i was carrying her?” lando whined again.

“her foot was in front of you mate,” max laughed, “should’ve tucked it behind you if you wanted to win so bad,” he added, shrugging.

“that is the last time i do anything nice for you,” lando seethed jokingly, turning to face y/n before ruffling his hand through her hair to mess it up.

she dodged his hand quickly, head jerking sideways as she shouted at him.

“you’re such a sore loser.”

“i am not.”

“rematch?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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pretty-little-mind33 · 16 days

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James Potter x shy Hufflepuff fem!reader

Summary: You have a massive crush on James. One you didn't think would ever lead anywhere until a drunken party in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Genre: Fluff 🫶

Warnings: drinking, being drunk

~ directly inspired by the song So High School by Taylor Swift. thank you to the anon who requested this! ily! ~

Your cheeks burn from your embarrassment and the fire-whiskey in your blood-stream as your ears ring from the loud music dancing around you and you shake your head.

Lily Evans laughs as she glances around the Common Room. "C'mon, this is your chance," she insists, "They're playing Kiss, Marry, or Kill."

When Lily sees your confused and frankly frightened��expression, she quickly explains, "It's a muggle game—it's harmless and fun—c'mon," she says again and pulls on your arm.

"Gentlemen," Lily declares when you approach the circle of students near the fire and she looks at the ring leaders of the group, The Marauders.

They're the ones that had planned this party—or Sirius and James had while Remus and Peter tagged along.

Sirius grins when he sees Lily.

"Aw, are you joining us, Red?" he smirks and then he sees you, "And who's your friend?"

You smile shyly. You know Peter from Care Of Magical Creatures in your third year, and you often seen Remus in the library (you've even spoken to him a few times), but you've only ever seen and heard James and Sirius from afar—

—which definitely never helped the stupid, baseless, soul-crushing crush you have on James Potter.

Remus, who is sitting criss-cross ext to Sirius, speaks up, "Y/n, yeah? You're a Hufflepuff—I see you in the library." He smiles kindly and pushes on James's shoulder, who has the latter almost choking on his beer, so you can sit next to him.

James frowns but he recovers quickly and looks up, his glasses crooked on his nose. He's wearing his Quidditch sweater, his brown hair a tangled mess, but he's smiling now.

"Hi," he moves so you can sit next to him and Remus as Lily grins like a fool. You feel her hand on your shoulder as she plops you down next to James and she sits across from you.

Apart from the Marauders, other students are also sitting around the circle and chatting. Sirius is by far the loudest of them all, and you think James is the funniest.

It becomes honestly embarrassing how hard you laugh at any stupid joke he says. You can't help it, your tipsiness impairs any rational thoughts you may have, as you cover your mouth and stifle your laughs.

James notices immediately and he grins.

"Never had this much success, dove," he says, as charming as always, "You're cute."

This causes you to become even more flustered and you don't even know how to answer him. So, you hide from him, turning your head in the opposite direction. Lily sends you a knowing look.

James leans his knee closer to yours and you have to convince yourself he did that by accident or you'll simply implode.

"Okay, Jamie, Kiss, Marry, Kill—me, Lily, and our new sweet little Hufflepuff," Sirius suddenly says, pulling your attention to the group again. You still have no clue what this game is and your eyes round.

Sirius seems quite pleased with himself.

James sips his drink, "Hmm, Kill you because you're a pain in my arse—"

Sirius dramatically puts a hand on his heart, feigning hurt at his best friend's words. "And here I had the ring all prepared," he whines.

James chuckles and continues. "Then um," he looks between you and Lily for a moment and your heart sinks.

Everyone knows James had a thing for Lily in second to fourth year. How could you, someone who had been too shy and awkward to even talk to him, compete with smart, incredibly witty, and beautifully stunning Lily Evans?

"Kiss Lily and marry Y/n," James shrugs, smiling lopsidedly as he looks at you and pushes his glasses further up his nose. "Lils' seems like she'd be a decent snog, but I like them sweeter for the long run," he reasons and winks.

Lily laughs and rolls her eyes, "Smooth, Potter."

"No need to get all green-eyed on us, Evans," James says and turns his attention to you again, "Whadd'ya say, lil' puff, June 17th in six years?" he says, planning the future fake wedding.

You look up at him, your eyes round and you blink—unable to laugh it off as your heart thumps so loudly you can barely hear a thing anymore.

"I think you broke the poor girl," Remus chuckles and then turns to Peter to steer the attention away from you, "Okay, Wormy, your turn."

Thank Merlin for Remus Lupin.

* * *

A while later, you stand in the corner of the room, your mind still stuck on how James's teasing that you don't hear the man in question come up to you.

"Hey, dove," he whispers and you spin around.

"Oh–hi," you whisper. You must look so smitten because you can just feel your cheeks burn.

James smirks. "It's late. Where's Lily?"

You frown as you look around, "She's talking with um—some of her other friends over there—" you point, expecting James to walk to her and leave you behind.

Instead, he stays. "You think she'd mind if I walk you back to your Common Room, you seem a little tipsy."

You're at a loss for words but then you stutter, "O-oh, no, I don't think she would mind," you whisper, "That's very kind of you, James. I c-can walk alone if it's a bother—"

"Nonsense. If it was a bother, I wouldn't have asked," James takes your arm, pushing some hair from your face with his fingers.

"Cute ribbon," he adds, looking at the red ribbon in your hair, "Very on brand with Gryffindor pride," he chuckles as he clearly enjoys the flustered look you're wearing.

"You're adorable," he says and he takes your hand, leading you out into the hall. The corridors are empty and dimly lit at this time in the evening and it feels surreal to walk the halls hand in hand with James Potter—especially when he keeps looking back at you with that look on his face.

When you arrive at the entrance of the Hufflepuff Common Room, James turns to you and he keeps his hand in yours. He's blushing obviously now and you can smell the beer on his breath.

"If we weren't so tipsy," he mumbles, his knuckles caressing your skin, "I would kiss you right now."

Your eyes widen and your breath leaves you. "Pardon?"

"You heard me, love—where have you been all my life?" he sounds lovesick and one of his palms press against his warm cheek, "Is this what love at first sight is supposed to feel like? Because I was convinced that was all bullshit until now. What charm have you put on me, Y/n?"

You look away because if you look into his eyes any longer, you'll faint. Your hand squeezes his as his words make you feel dizzy and all fluttery. "I think you're just a little drunk, James."

"Drunk in love, yeah," he half-jokes, his tone soft as he leans in and his lips find your forehead.

You shut your eyes, wondering how he could make you feel like this in a mere matter of hours and although your insecurities creep in, you stay in the moment.

"Where can I find you tomorrow?" James whispers against your skin.

"I'm in the library a lot, especially in the mornings," you say, having no expectations of ever seeing James Potter again. You and him live on completely different planets.

"You can find me there if you'd like," you finish and James nods, his lips kissing your temple one last time and then he whispers a small, sweet dreams into your skin.

* * *

In the morning, you ignore your hangover and find your usual spot in the back of the library as you open an old book written by an ancient muggle philosopher.

Last night's events in the Gryffindor Common Room play in your head as you read.

"Mornin'." You're startled by a familiar voice and you look up from your book. James stands in front of you, a Quaffle under his arm as his hair splays messily across his forehead.

He's still dressed in his Quidditch Uniform and he walks closer, smiling. "Sorry I'm late—practice ran later than usual. Whatcha reading?" he asks, sitting across from you and draping his arm across the chair next to his as the Quaffle sits in his lap.

"You came," you whisper with a smile, your heart fluttering.

"Yeah, 'course I came," James says so casually as he leans over the table and taps your book, "Whatcha reading, dove? Do tell me all about it,"

You feel all warm and fuzzy like all your wildest dreams have come true, when you say, "Only if you tell me all about Quidditch practice after?" you look at him shyly.

"Your wish is my command," James grins, a faint blush on his cheeks.

1K notes · View notes

morganitering · 6 months

Text

Because I'm the Weakest

Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader

Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse

Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.

Word count: ~6,5k

Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.

A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3

read on ao3 PART II

“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.

“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.

He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.

“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.

“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.

“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.

“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.

“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.

The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.

You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.

It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.

“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”

“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.

“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.

“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.

“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.

“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”

So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.

You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.

“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.

You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.

“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.

“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.

“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.

“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.

You scratched your neck awkwardly.

“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.

At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.

Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.

Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.

The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.

The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.

You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.

Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.

“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.

You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.

“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.

“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.

“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.

“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.

The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.

“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.

“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.

“What the-” you got cut off.

“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.

“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.

“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.

“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.

His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.

“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.

“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!

“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.

It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.

The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.

“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.

“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.

The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.

“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.

You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.

“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.

You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.

“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.

“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.

“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.

“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.

“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.

“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.

“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.

Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.

“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.

You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.

“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.

He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.

“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.

You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.

You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.

“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.

“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.

You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.

Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.

“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.

There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.

“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.

Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.

“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.

“Arch your back.”

You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.

“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.

Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.

Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.

“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.

Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.

“Open.”

Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.

You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.

Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.

“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.

Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.

“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.

Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.

“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.

Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.

There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.

Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.

“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.

“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.

Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.

“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.

Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.

It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.

***

It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.

With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.

You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”

The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.

The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.

The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.

“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.

“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”

You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.

Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.

You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.

There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.

You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.

You repeated it once.

Twice.

Until your skin was scrubbed dry.

You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.

You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.

“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”

Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.

“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.

“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.

Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.

“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.

You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.

“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”

That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.

“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.

“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.

“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”

You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.

“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.

“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.

You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.

Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.

You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.

#tw: noncon #dark fic #yandere jjk #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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heavenbarnes · 2 months

Note

Hello I’m ruminating on olderbf!Simon and how down bad I am for him. I have so many thoughts that do not relate to each other but I would love to just braindump on ya if I may!

-olderbf!Simon and reader obviously into voyeurism/exhibitionism with the other 141 and hearing all of their dirty thoughts, but I get the sense that Simon would NOT like to hear literally anyone else talking that way about his girl. Like if a recruit or lower rank soldier saw reader and said something gross in earshot of Simon we might actually have a murder on our hands. What do you think?

-when/if reader ever gets bratty, how might Simon punish her? Maybe instead of having punishment sex he would actually withhold his dick from her? But then ofc he’s also horny and depraved so it ends up being as much of a punishment for him

-how do you envision them sharing a bed? Are they big spooners or does Simon run so hot that reader can’t handle him being nearby?

Anyway I need to lie down now I’m unwell about him xoxo

read this in the carpark before work and had to ruminate on it all day until now 🫶🏼

there was an internal battle your older bf!simon was facing. there was a part of him, a filthy part of him, that damn near needed everyone to know how good you could be for him.

but there was a bigger part that’d rather die than have anyone think of you like that.

enter 141.

men that simon could literally trust with his life, knew him better than anyone (anyone other than you). he could trust them with his life and he could trust them with a group chat full of your most intimate moments.

however, anyone else tried to even think about you? intimately or not?

there wasn’t a place they could hide.

“jesus, L.T- the fuckin’ sight a’that”

“woah, the things i’d do to-“

one stone faced expression hidden behind a balaclava, another fighting a shit eating grin off his face.

“i’d start runnin’ if i wa’you”

not like they’d ever be able to run fast enough.

and your older bf!simon knows orders better than anyone. lives by them, loves by them.

so when you’ve acted out, he knows that you need an order- need something to get you back to sweet and pliant like he’s used to.

no use fucking it back into you, minute he sinks even the tip in- it’s him going dumb and forgetting what the mission even was.

he has to go to the next extreme.

“no touchin’, sweet’art”

your hands went back under your thighs, back pressed to the arm of the couch as you watched the man in front of you. fucking hell.

simon had one rough hand wrapped around his cock, wrist twisting as he tugged himself off. the sounds of his broken moans, the spit slick of his palm.

pure fucking torture.

“please, si”

that nearly did it, he nearly gave in with one little whimper from you.

“i’ll be good”

simon’s eyes flickered up the length of you, eyes locking with yours. he could see the well of tears on your lower lashes, he could see the way your lip was fixed between your teeth.

“what’ya say then?”

crawling, fucking crawling across the couch to him- you let him feed the tip into your mouth, muffling your words as you spoke.

“m’sorry si”

and when it’s you and your older bf!simon in your bed at the end of a long day, there’s nothing quite like it for him.

he has to be touching you.

up to him? he likes to be spooning you, curve of your back against his chest and your ass nestled nicely against his cock.

where you belong.

but the man’s big and that means that man’s warm so sometimes he has to settle for a hand against your stomach or a leg between yours.

just as long as he’s touching you.

he’s happiest, however, when your head is on his chest and he can see your peaceful little face rise and fall with his breathing. to him, he can almost imagine you exist as one.

when he can hear your little breaths, the tiny (or not so tiny) snores drifting out your lips as he traces the lines of your face with a long finger.

tactile guy is our simon, but only when it comes to you.

#i love a little accumulation of headcanons! this was so fun!#older bf!simon #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley blurb #simon ghost riley blurb #simon riley drabble #simon ghost riley drabble

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etherealstar-writes · 4 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 12

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: twelve

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the REAL karate kid HOLD ON I FELL ASLEEP AND THIS IS WHAT I WAKE UP TO Y/N BAE WHAT IS THIS 😭

elton OMG LESSI MY MEMES SKILLZ ARE FINALLY RUBBING OFF ON YA

stairway still cannot believe this tho y/n 😔

neev neither 😔

willybum the betrayal 😔

the REAL karate kid y/n just so you know, we are not okay 😔

lotte 😔

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ so um ....

neev Y/NNN YOU'RE ALIVE HOW WAS THE DATE

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ he never showed up got stood up 😔

elton oh

stairway that is so sad

willybum that truly is terrible to hear

the REAL karate kid very sad

neev that really sucks

meado you idiots! atleast be nice and pretend to actually feel bad! ignore them y/n i'm really sorry to hear that he didn't deserve you at all

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ thank you beffy 🥺 it's fine gonna thrive in my single life forever i guess 😔✊

stairway well y/n i'm free tonight 👀

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ so am i 👀

willybum absolutely not we have our semis tomorrow you're not going anywhere

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ that is very unfortunate georgia 😔 maybe one day

stairway 😔

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ you know now that i'm getting better at my woso knowledge do a few of your teammates just not like messaging? bcuz there's a few not on this chat

neev hold on a sec you're right! chloe, esme, kirby, turner and zelem aren't even in the chat

staiway you forgot to add them ??

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ and you guys just realised 😭😭

elton shhhhh i'll add them now

elton added ona batlle

elton oh nuggets

the REAL karate kid HELP

elton i am walking and eating a donut and i accidentally clicked on the wrong person

willybum added katie

willybum do not trust ella to add people to this chat anymore

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ omg hey ona!

kie oh my days

ona batlle hello! :) i am not on the england team?

earpsy you qualify to be here anyway don't ya worry

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ ona, may i just say you are very peng

stairway Y/N.

neev peng 😭😭

ona batlle i am not sure what that means but i can only assume that it is good so thank you!

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ do you think i'm peng?

ona batlle yes sure! of course!

stairway 😐😐

katie ur ugly

elton hey katie! nice to see you too

katie i was talking to you

elton that is not nice

katie neither is being friends with you

elton i am not sure where this attitude has come from

willybum i love this new zelem

katie i hope you fall in the shower

willybum i take that back

katie HAHAHA HELP

neev WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING

katie HAH WILLYBUM THESE NAMES 😭😭 and i'm not katie zelem

meado i cannot believe how you guys keep doing this you added katie mccabe not zelem

elton OMG IT WASN'T ME IT WAS LEAH I DIDNT DO IT THIS TIME

rusty metal you literally added ona earlier ...

willybum changed the name katie to mccard

mccard was that name really necessary? really?

willybum yes.

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG THE KATIE MCCABE ILY

mccard hello y/n ❤️

willybum absolutely not stay away from our y/n mccabe

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG CAN WE ADD STEPH CATLEY TOO I LOVE HER

the REAL karate kid HUH

stairway hey hey hey you're supposed to be the lionesses' biggest fan what is this betrayal

neev yeah 😔😔

mccard added steph

meado STEPHYY hey girl!

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ OMG OMG NO ONE MOVE

steph katie did you add me here to get attacked bcuz i'm aussie? and heyy beffy!

mccard not this time :)

steph national diving time?! help 😭😭

the imposter aka y/n ❤️ omg hi!! ily you're amazing

steph aww thank you y/n!!

stairway look toone what have you done everyone's stealing y/n away from us now

elton how is any of this my fault?!!

the REAL karate kid it is

neev it is

lotte it is

willybum it is

earpsy it is

brightness it is

daily it is

stairway it is

rusty metal it is

meado it is

mccard it is

elton

i hate you all so much

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

part thirteen here

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sinnersweets · 4 months

Text

DogDay x Reader part 2

A/N: Highly requested so here you guys go! Enjoy!

<----part 1 part 3---->

DogDay led me outside of the Playhouse and back outside into Playcare. A few feet in front of us was a chicken. A tall yellow chicken. Ah, that must have been KickinChicken. “Hiya KC!” DogDay was still holding my hand but with his other he waved extremely fast to KickinChicken. “Sup DD! Hey, finally got yourself a helper now huh? ‘Bout time dude.” KickinChicken then handed off the kids too, I’m assuming his helper. His helper also matched him as well. Guess that was the uniform for us working with these...tall animal mascots.

Kickinchicken walked up to me and DogDay. “Names Kickinchicken, the cool member of the Smiling Critters.” DogDay laughed when he said that. “Go on Angel, introduce yourself.” I wasn’t used to seeing animals so tall, it scared me a little. I held out my free hand to KickenChicken and summoned some courage to talk.

“Hello, I’m Y/N or Angel, doesn’t really matter what you call me. Nice to meet you.” KickenChicken then slapped my hand with his and started to make a handshake with me. I mirrored his movements to understand this new handshake I was given. “Haha, she’s pretty cool DD, you got yourself a rad helper.” He then looked at me up and down. “Not bad looking either.” KickenChicken smiled at me. I was going to comment on that, but DogDay beat me too it. “Look at the time! You better hurry along to your group now KC, don’t want our little friends upset now do we?” “Right, well nice meeting ya Y/N, we’ll chat later.” he spoke as he walked back to his group and helper. DogDay squeezed my hand a bit before leading us to the center of Playcare. “On with the tour!”

---------------

DogDay first showed me the statue in the center. It was all the Smiling Critters. There were eight of them in total: DogDay the leader, Bobby Bearhug the loving one, KickenChicken was the cool one, Hoppy Hopscotch the energetic one, CraftyCorn was the artist in the group, Bubba Bubbaphant the smart one, PickyPiggy the foodie, and lastly there was CatNap, DogDays bestest friend. He supposably makes sure that everyone else gets a good night's rest every day to ensure that they are ready for the next day.

Next, we went into the Toy Store. DogDay was tall, so he had to walk on all fours. “This is where the children can come and buy some sweet toys of yours truly, and the others!” I smiled and looked around. Sure enough there were plushies of DogDay and the rest of the group. There were also some other toys like a blue limp doll, a dinosaur that matched the lamps outside, what looked like a cat and a bee mixed, and other toys. I picked up a smaller version of DogDay and looked at it. “You said the kids buy these?” “Uh-huh! We give them play money to use around here, that way when they get adopted, they’ll know about the real world and how to manage their expenses.” That was smart of them. I set the plushie back down and followed DogDay outside.

We then looked at the consoler's office and school. DogDay told me that the consolers office was where the staff would put their belongings in and where parents would go to adopt a child. Only DogDay was allowed in the consoler's office, none of the other Smiling Critters could go in there. I’m not sure why but I didn’t question it. “The school is where the children spend most of their time. I’d take you inside so you could meet Miss Delight and her sisters, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt her teachings.” “That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get to meet them one day.”

---------------

It was now naptime for the children which meant that the Smiling Critters could step away and hang out all together and just relax. I was in the consolers office to check out my assigned office. Each helper had their own office to get away to when needed. Outside my door was a card that had ‘Welcome’ on the front. I picked it up and walked into my new office. I took a look around, nice office, however what stuck out to me was the big dog bed in the corner.

I was about to walk over to it until I heard a knock at the door. I set down the card and opened the door, but no one was there. Suddenly DogDays head popped out from the side. “Hiya Angel!” “Ah-” I fell back in shock. As I laid on the floor DogDay hovered over me with a worried expression, his sun pendant laid against my chest. “Angel?! Oh gosh I’m so sorry! Are you okay??!” I did a double-blink and then slowly sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting that at all.” DogDay then held out a paw towards me to help me to my feet. I took his paw into my hand and once my hand met his paw his tail started to wag. He pulled me up to my feet and got close to me. I wasn't used to being this close to anyone, let alone a giant dog so I started to blush. This caught DogDays attention. “Angel your face is really red, are you sick?” I was starting to feel bad, not physically but mentally. I didn’t want him to be worried about me. “I-I’m fine! Really DogDay. So, um what brings you by?” I wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. DogDay then smiled and leaned away from me. “I wanted to see if you liked the card we made!” I went to my desk, picked up the card and opened it. ‘Welcome newest helper, we hope that this job brings you happiness and joy as we do to our children here. We look forward to working with you, signed everyone.’ I did like the letter.

---------------

Me and DogDay started chatting for a while until out of nowhere, I yawned. “Oh my, sorry about that.” Guess I was starting to get a bit tired. “That’s okay Angel. There’s thirty minutes left of nap time; you should rest up!” A power nap did sound good. I nodded and told DogDay that he should go back to his friends, but he shook his head no and picked me up and walked over to the dog bed in the corner. Should’ve known it was his.

“I’d rather spend my free time with you Angel, plus as your boss you have no say.” He stuck his tongue out and booped my nose with his paw. My face got warm again. He then laid down on his bed and laid me in between his front paws. “You can rest with me Angel; I’ve been told that I’m a very fluffy pillow.” He was very soft and the smell of vanilla on him was almost like a drug to put you to sleep, and it was working. I yawned once more and closed my eyes. DogDays head rested near me. “Rest well my Angel.” was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #x reader #dogday x reader #part 2 #smiling critters

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merakiui · 4 months

Text

maybe, i'm afraid.

azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: slight angst, nsfw, azul bottles his feelings and is insecure note - happy birthday to my favorite tako in the whole world. <3 may you have wonderful days forever!! // loosely inspired by lovelytheband's "maybe, i'm afraid."

i. spring - dancing in your party dress, you were singing me some frank sinatra as you wept. pull me close enough. it seems like we lost touch, so hold me as the record skips.

“Can you believe we’re gonna be fourth years?!” Kalim exclaims with wide, sparkling eyes. They look like twin garnets set into his face—polished jewels having caught the aquatic illumination from Mostro Lounge’s aquarium. “Time really does fly, huh!”

“Feels like yesterday,” Ruggie agrees around a mouthful of food. His plate is stacked as high as it can possibly get, piled with contrasting flavors. “Pretty crazy to think we’re all gonna be heading off in different directions soon.”

Jade nods. “Our school lives are as fun as they are fleeting.”

An odd quiet falls over the three of them, which is soon broken when Floyd drapes himself over the booth. He leans down to swipe a sliver from Jade’s plate. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Just reminiscing.”

“Ah. S’bout that time, ain’t it? Gettin’ sentimental in the spring.”

“Makes sense. The semester’s ending and people are starting up their internships or going home. Really makes you think…”

Ruggie gazes at the group huddled near the bar. Riddle, Jamil, and a half-awake Silver chat alongside you and Azul. You seem to be in the middle of a riveting story, for your arms gesticulate wildly. Azul looks on with what Ruggie thinks is the most mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey smile he’s ever seen.

“We’re gonna come back in the winter, aren’t we?” Kalim asks, tilting his head.

“Indeed. For the cultural festival.”

“Yeah, that’s right! It’ll be fun to see you guys after so much time apart. Oh, we should all keep in touch! That way it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.”

“Perhaps not for us.” Jade follows Ruggie’s line of sight, landing on one person in particular. “For others, the gap is cavernous.”

“What do you mean, Jade?”

Floyd catches on then. “S’not our fault he’s not sayin’ anything.”

Ruggie shrugs. “It doesn’t concern me.” He pops up from his spot in the booth, grinning. “It’s been great and all, but I’ve gotta get my fill. Wouldn’t be right for a guy to skimp out when it’s Azul hosting.”

Giggling, Floyd waves him off. “You do that, Sharksucker.”

Kalim turns to the twins, brows raised. “You’re talking about Azul?”

“He’s been swept up in Shrimpy ever since. It’s been—how long now?—about two years or something.”

“Oh.” Kalim blinks back at him, slow on the uptake. And then, seconds later, it hits him. “Ohhh! He likes (Name)!”

“There ya go.”

“I’m afraid he’s yet to confess,” Jade adds around a bite of cake. “You should see the plans he’s drafted. Dozens of them, in fact. Each one is… Oh, perhaps I’ve said too much already.”

“I don’t get it. If he likes (Name) so much, why wouldn’t he just confess? Why make plans?”

“Wow, Sea Otter, you don’t play when it comes to feelings, do ya?”

“If it was me, I’d want everyone to know how much I care about someone.” To demonstrate this point, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “You’re the best, (Name)!”

You glance past a now wide-awake Silver at the twins and Kalim. Mirroring his actions, you reply in a giggly voice, “Thanks! You’re great, too, Kalim!”

Beaming, he says, “See? It’s not so difficult. If Azul needs any help, I’d be happy to—”

Floyd throws his head back and cackles like a madman. “Not so difficult for you!”

Jade masks his amusement behind a gloved fist. “My, my. I think I’ve just witnessed the very soul drain from Azul’s eyes. You have quite the talent, Kalim.”

Kalim doesn’t hear the underlying meaning or the backhanded barb in his statement. “He’s got time, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what he keeps saying. But deep down he knows.” Floyd watches Azul hurry to recover his composure before anyone can notice. “He’s leaving for his internship after school’s over and then graduation’s next spring. He’s running out of time.”

“Does (Name) like him? Maybe she’ll confess before he does!”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t know what Shrimpy feels for him. Been driving himself crazy all school year tryin’ to figure that one out.”

“I suspect he’s grown excessively cautious as a result of his fear of rejection,” Jade explains, dragging his fork through the buttercream smeared on his plate.

“But if he confesses now and she doesn’t feel the same, he’ll have all summer to recover.” Kalim turns his stare on you next. “(Name)’s always been nice. I’m sure she wouldn’t shatter his heart.”

“When you’re Azul, even the tiniest push is enough.”

“Really? But he’s always so strong!”

Jade hums. “Three hearts are quite the boon-burden.”

“Only makes lovin’ someone that much worse. Cuz then you’re lovin’ ’em three times as much.”

“Isn’t that good? I think it’s sweet Azul cares about (Name) so much.”

“Sweet…” Jade shares a look with Floyd. Something unspoken passes between them. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“Azul thinks it’s a pain in the ass. Throws him off his course and he loooves bein’ on his course.”

Kalim stares a moment longer. “Maybe he needs a push in the right direction.”

“Liquid courage works wonders—”

“—or gives way to woe.”

“Nothing like that.” He doesn’t elaborate further, instead getting up and padding over to the bar with a cheerful bounce in his steps. “Hey, everyone, let’s take a picture!”

Riddle welcomes him with a warm smile. “Ah, hello there, Kalim.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jamil comments, arms folding across his chest. Which, arguably, is worse because it can only spell trouble should Kalim find himself inspired.

“Way ahead of you!” You hold your Ghost Camera up, turning the lens on Kalim. Lighting up like the very sun in the sky, he poses just as you snap a photo. It takes a few moments for it to develop, but once it does you hand it over to him for his perusal. “Looking good as always.”

“Aww, thanks! Okay, your turn next! Let’s get a big group photo and then individual photos.” With the camera now in his possession, Kalim’s free to fidget with it as he pleases. “Ooh, this is neat!”

“Careful with that!” Jamil bounds forward just in case. “The Headmage gave that to (Name). Don’t break it.”

“I won’t,” Kalim promises, holding it up to capture you and Jamil in its sight. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone, group up! Picture time!”

There’s lots of fumbling. An argument about height breaks out. Floyd pokes fun at Riddle for having to stand in front to account for his height. Riddle fumes, red with anger, and stomps his foot indignantly—all while insisting he’s still growing. You offer to stand beside him, but he hisses at you like a cat: “Don’t patronize me! I’m of perfect, healthy stature for someone my age!”

Kalim looks on from behind the camera. “Actually, can we get (Name) and Azul together first?”

Azul, who had been in the process of adding to the joke with a comment of his own, hesitates. He peers at Kalim, his walls rising. “Me?”

“Yeah! Only fair to put you front and center. You’re the host, after all!”

“Ah, right. Of course. But then—”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. “If anything, I should stay out of the picture. I’m not a third year like the rest of you.”

Kalim gasps, scandalized. “We can’t do that! It doesn’t matter what year you are. You’re still our friend, and parties are for everyone to enjoy.”

“Doesn’t that throw off the original plan?” Ruggie wonders, munching on a frosted donut.

“Kalim, we need to account for height. Riddle can’t stand in the back.” Jamil glances apologetically at Riddle. “That’s just the reality of it.”

Riddle huffs, refusing to dignify that with a response.

“I’ll stand in the front,” Silver offers.

“What? No, that’s not the issue here, Silver.”

“It’s not? I thought we were picking who stands beside (Name).”

“Ooh, I wanna stand with Shrimpy!” Floyd wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. “C’mon, Sea Otter, take our pic!”

Jamil sighs. “All of you…”

“Shall we take individual photos with (Name) first?” Jade suggests, smiling placidly at Kalim.

This time the message is received loud and clear. “Oh, great idea, Jade! Azul and (Name), could you stand next to each other?”

The group disperses to allow you and Azul to do just that. Rigidly, Azul steps closer. He keeps a healthy distance between your bodies, one Jade picks up on right away.

“Please smile and pretend like you love each other,” he instructs, to which Azul flusters.

“W-What? Jade, that’s—”

“C’mere, Ashengrotto! I don’t bite!”

With a joyous laugh, you wrap your arm around Azul’s waist and drag him in close. He stumbles, flushed in the face, just as the camera flashes. The corresponding photo slides out next, blank for a while. Eventually, the image begins to show up with striking clarity.

“How’s it look? Great, right?” As soon as it happened, it’s gone—your warmth. The comfort of being held. Azul almost pursues you when you release him from your grasp and move towards Kalim to inspect the photo. Thankfully, he catches himself. “Hey, this is nice! Good job.”

You and Kalim share a high-five.

“Me next, Sea Otter!” Floyd crowds in, baring his pointed teeth in an unruly grin.

With everyone’s attention on you, Kalim, and the camera, Azul’s left to stand behind in silence. Anticipating the rainless deluge, Jade lingers within earshot.

“I know,” he mutters in a brittle tone. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not a peep. Although if I may share just a tiny tidbit… Kalim offered some very helpful advice. You may want to hear it.”

Azul stares at him, stunned. “You told Kalim?”

“Not directly, no. It was implied.” Jade averts his mismatched eyes on purpose. “More or less.”

“I should’ve made you and Floyd sign NDAs…”

“Is it really so sensitive?”

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Azul deflates with a sigh, looking on mournfully. You’re trying to snatch the camera from Floyd’s hands. He holds it up and out of reach, laughing raucously. “What did he say?”

“If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart.”

Azul barks out a short, hollow laugh. “In an ideal world, that’s easy.”

“You’re making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Jade issues an encouraging smile. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“It’s just something to consider.”

A minute ticks between them. Jade watches the scene alongside Azul, delighting in distant chaos.

“I’m afraid, Jade,” he admits quietly, the confession as soft and fragile as a single breath. “She’s everything and I’m…nothing.”

Jade frowns in disagreement.

“I’ve looked at it from every conceivable angle. There isn’t any calculated risk to be made—no potential profit or success to be had.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to get it off your chest. We have a few weeks left before the break. If not your heart, perhaps you could establish a means to communicate?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… For the sake of networking—”

Jade chuckles. “Networking? Is that it?”

Azul scowls. “You’re awfully irritating tonight.”

“I’m not the one with his tentacles tied, hopelessly infatuated.”

“You—”

“(Name), there’s something Azul would like to tell you,” Jade announces, and you turn to look at him.

Azul thinks he should just go ahead and die right there. Is it possible to spontaneously combust if he thinks about it long enough? Is such a phenomenon magic? All he needs to do is visualize it and then the spark will catch and—

“Yeah? What’s up, Azul?”

Azul flounders, his concentration broken. Like he’s done so many times in the past, he plasters his trademark smirk-grin on and falls into the shoes of the sleazy conman. “If you ever find yourself in need of study materials even after I’ve graduated, do not hesitate to contact me and I—”

You laugh. “I think I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

With withering confidence, he chuckles. “I could give you quite the deal. You’d be missing out…”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced.

Jade—annoying, asshole Jade—brushes past, smooth as sea glass. “I shall take my leave, but please continue your chat. I believe there’s a camera waiting to capture the memory of me.”

Now it’s just you and Azul. He clears his throat, suddenly awkward.

“(Name), I—”

“Azul—”

“Oh.” He stares at you, a smile twitching on his lips. “You first.”

“No, no, you spoke before me.”

“Ah. Well…”

If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart. As if a love that’s been flowering for two years could possibly be resolved within the span of a few months.

He tries again even though it’s not what he really wants to say. “I do hope you’ll have a pleasant summer.”

“You as well.” You nudge him. “Kick ass at your internship.”

“I intend to.” Right. Internship. Work. Business. He can hold a normal conversation if that’s the topic. “And you? Do you plan to stay here?”

“Yeah. Crowley’s letting Grim and me live on campus since we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll work part-time in Craneport. Summer is a great season for tourism, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

Azul laughs. “If it’s a family, they may spend more on kid’s menus for the novelty of it all. Be sure to talk it up to truly sell it. All children deserve to know the magic of a seasonal menu, do they not? Food in fun shapes. Fairy tales and sparkles. All of that razzmatazz. It’s the experience they’re paying for, after all.”

“Is that advice free?”

“Is it?”

“Fine, fine.” You dig through your pocket and hand him the photo from earlier. “Your payment, good sir. A memento of me.”

Azul takes it from you, admires your effortlessly pretty smile, and then freezes. “Oh, I look positively dreadful!”

“Not at all. It adds character.”

“A horrid sort of character.”

You sidle up beside him, peering at the picture. “I like it. It’s a photo of an imperfect Azul.”

“What an ambiguous compliment.”

“I’m serious! It’s Azul when he’s not acting. I like imperfect Azul. He’s authentic. A real person.” You pat him on the shoulder. He stiffens, betraying his initial nonchalance. “Or maybe not. One day I’ll catch you off guard.”

“We’ll see.”

“One day…” Your attention is stolen when you catch sight of the group attempting to bunch together for a selfie. Offering Azul that same smile he’s admired ever since he saw it, you add, “Have a fun summer. Don’t be a stranger next year, okay?” And then you’re bounding across the lounge. “Wait for me! I want in, too!”

For the rest of the semester, Azul keeps the photo tucked away in his phone case.

I have time to mull over the pros and cons, he tells himself when he departs through the mirror, summer break at his fingertips.

ii. summer - maybe i’m just too good. maybe i’ll run away. maybe i’m over you. maybe i shouldn’t stay. maybe i just don’t care. maybe i talk too much.

It occurs to you, while sorting through the photos you’ve taken throughout this past school year, that there’s an absurd amount of Azul. Whether on his own or with others, he appears in more photos than anyone else. You wonder how that happened—how you managed to be there for so many of his moments, each one documented in photographic permanence.

Some of them are humorous. Azul looking unimpressed when you lifted your camera to capture him. Grim jumping into his arms to demand snacks. His glasses sitting crooked on his face. Some of them are endearing. Azul reading in a comfortable nook in the library. Azul smiling fondly at the lens during an alchemy lesson. Azul laughing after you cracked a joke during PE. Some of them are animated. Azul waving at you from across the courtyard. Azul rolling his eyes at a dull pun. Azul playfully blowing a kiss to the camera after you told him to do something memorable. Some are special. Azul in his birthday robes. Azul during that time Mostro Lounge became a butler café for one week. Azul on his last day of the semester, leveling the camera with a roguish smirk.

This one—the most recent and last photo taken of him—is especially important. It’s the conversation that prompted an unforgettable expression that fills you with butterflies whenever you recall it.

“I think you’ll miss me,” you told him, elbowing him for good measure.

“I think I will,” he replied, his lips curling.

Unequipped to deliver a witty retort, you could only gawk.

“Don’t tell me that’s all it takes to shock you into silence.” He chuckled, and there was that infamous smirk-grin—sitting so perfectly on his face, as if it was meant to be there for this very exchange. “You’re too easy, (Name). Where’s the challenge?”

Wordlessly, you raised your Ghost Camera and snapped his picture.

There are so many facets to his person that you’ve managed to catch on your camera—complex layers you wouldn’t have otherwise witnessed if you hadn’t spent so much time around him.

Now you realize why you have an abundance of Azul photos.

We sure hung out a lot this year, and every time I had my camera…

Is he your muse? Is he just naturally photogenic? He fits into plenty of backgrounds, but it’s never the scenery that fascinates and bewitches. It’s always his expression, his body language, his emotions. And the reason all of these photos are so important is because this is an Azul who is comfortable enough to show these sides to you. An Azul who wants you to document his best and his worst, his beautiful and his ugly, his silly and his serious.

Sitting at your desk, thumbing through stacks of photos, you know he’s more than a muse. As you watch Azul move in various pictures, you wonder what he’s doing. It’s only a month into summer, but everything feels so slow. Campus has cleared out, and with it the lounge has closed for the season. You’re certain he still has his ways of making profit and spreading word of its wonders. Azul isn’t foolish. He’s always working an angle. Endlessly clever and stubbornly ambitious.

Does he miss me, too? you think, running your finger over his smiling face. Or was that just something he said to get a reaction?

Just then, a gut-wrenching thought lodges itself deep: Are we even friends? What if he thinks I’m a nuisance? Maybe he’s just tolerating me and all this time I’ve been delusional.

You glimpse the photos again, watching Azul laugh soundlessly in an animated loop. What am I to you, Azul?

As if on cue, having sensed your sadness, arms wrap around you from behind. For a second you think it’s Grim, but then you see distinctly human hands clasping together. You whirl, startled out of your skin, to find Azul Ashengrotto standing there.

“Wha… What?”

He’s…here. Azul is standing in your bedroom.

You blink once and he remains. You blink twice and he’s still there, gazing down at you with soft, smiling features.

“Hello to you as well.”

“Hey…?” You pat his cheek and flinch away. “Oh, you’re real!”

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” Chuckling, he withdraws and moves to stand at your deskside. “I’m wounded. To think you would forget me just like that. And I thought I was plenty memorable.” He blows you a mock kiss then, and that’s when it finally strikes you.

This isn’t your Azul. This is an Azul from your photos.

How is this even possible? you think, scrambling to find which picture—which memory—he’s from. In doing so, you remember a particularly unique fact about the Ghost Camera. It’s a magical device that allows a photographer to capture slivers of their subject’s soul, which gives way to a special sort of connection known as a soulbond. The deeper the bond, the more likely the person in the photographs is to take on animation and, in some cases, slip out of the image that contains them.

So this is Azul from the time at which he was last photographed, you determine, holding up pictures to match his corporeal likeness to that of the scenery. The Ghost Camera is so cool…

“I missed you, you know.”

“Did you now?” He leans in close, curious. “How much?”

You push him away with a weak scoff. This isn’t good for your heart. Any closer and you might say something you’ll come to regret.

“Not as much as you think.”

“Is that so?” His gaze pans over to the pile of photos on your desk. “And these photos are simply here for convenience?”

“D-Don’t worry about it! Summer project. You wouldn’t get it.”

He flashes his teeth at you in a bright, competitive grin. “Try me.”

“You’re so nosy. Don’t you get tired of prying?”

“Not in the slightest.” He leans against the desk, his arms folding casually over his chest. “That’s besides the point. You’re avoiding the subject at hand.”

You turn in your chair and open your mouth to reply—why are you so invested in this?—but a better idea crops up. Meeting his cerulean stare with fierce, fiery eyes, you challenge him: “If it matters so much to you, I could be convinced to share my plans for the small price of one kiss. A real kiss. Not that fake one from before.”

Azul blinks back at you, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Is that all you desire?”

“What do you mean by—”

Your question is cut off when another set of arms embraces you from behind. Warm, soft lips press against your cheek; his breath tickles your ear.

“Are two not better than one?”

With a yelp, you jerk back so fast that you almost fall out of your chair. Standing there, looking very proud of himself, is another Azul. But this one, unlike Dorm Azul, is dressed in his school uniform. A very helpful distinction.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

It’s the only coherent sentence you can manage. Your mind is a panicked muddle: I can’t believe it. Two Azuls. Am I dreaming? This is definitely a dream, right? There’s no way he’d kiss me on the…

You slap your hand over your cheek, gasping. “Y-You kissed me?!”

“Is that not the price you wanted me to pay?” School Azul asks, one brow raised as if daring you to deny that fact.

Dorm Azul’s fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze towards him. “Unless you’d like to raise the price…”

You swallow thickly. This can’t be happening.

“Of course, in raising the price, it’s expected you raise the value of the information you’re willing to divulge,” School Azul adds with a chuckle. “Is that not fair?”

You shrink under both of their insistent stares. “W-Why do you even wanna know?”

“Why not? Any information is good information so long as it’s useful.”

You scoff, but it comes out choked and shy. “I… I’m going to use these photos to put together a present for you. I know your birthday’s so far away, but I’m getting a head start.”

“And this present would entail…?”

You click your tongue at him. “I already paid my half for that kiss. No more.”

“Aah, is that right?” Dorm Azul leans in, kissing dangerously close to your lips. You reach up to touch the corner of your mouth after he’s pulled away. “How much for the full story?”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

School Azul rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you up from your seat. This proximity allows you to feel his hair as it brushes against your face. Dorm Azul closes the distance as if it’s second nature, and now you’re sandwiched between the both of them.

Your heart stumbles in your chest. He’s quite literally surrounding you, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“A very valid question.” Dorm Azul glances coyly at School Azul. “What do you think, Me?”

“Will we be enough for you, (Name)?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles into your hips.

You’re dizzy in their arms, your entire body warming with anticipation and embarrassment alike. Is it okay to be selfish? Even though this isn’t technically Azul—just mere memories of him—it seems so real. He’s holding you, touching you, reaching for you…

“Hmm. Two does seem to be a bit much.”

“Let’s call it a holiday and say it’s seasonal spoiling.”

“A gift for the summer.”

“Do open the window to let in the breeze. The heat is prone to making one feel rather…stuffy.”

They’re doing this on purpose. Maybe another Azul is more troublesome than I once thought. I can only handle so much charm!

Shrugging off self-doubt, you grab Dorm Azul by his lapels and yank him towards you, sealing the space that once separated your mouths in a hungry kiss. He melts against you, eyes fluttering shut. It’s quick and starved, the way you chase each other’s lips. You cling to him before you can fall, arms looped around his neck to keep him near.

Fully clothed and achingly desperate, you loathe the unbearable heat, but nothing is more molten than the space between your thighs.

Meanwhile, School Azul takes his sweet time running his hands along your sides, up the length of your body until he reaches your chest. With his form pinned to yours, you can feel his erection pressing against your ass. Rather shamelessly, he rolls his hips. You’re pushed up against Dorm Azul next, who takes hold of your hand and guides it to the strain in his slacks. He pulls away briefly to allow School Azul to slide your shirt up and over your head.

“Were you anticipating this?” he whispers, taking hold of your breasts.

“No way,” you protest between kisses. “Not… No. K-Keep dreaming. It’s too much trouble to wear one in the summer. Gets hot and—”

Dorm Azul captures your lips in another ravenous smooch, and the objection dies in your throat.

“There’s no need for these pesky articles where I’m from,” School Azul murmurs. He presses kisses into your bare shoulder, humming his very obvious delight. “You’d have already been laid out beneath me if that were the case… Soft and sweet, all mine to love at the bottom of the sea…”

“Humans have so many steps,” Dorm Azul laments, tutting.

“And merfolk don’t?” You try to sound smart with your question, but it comes out breathless when your nipple’s twisted between two fingers. “Oh…”

“Not when it comes to clothing. The very concept doesn’t exist beneath the waves.”

“You could visit sometime and see for yourself. I’ll welcome you with open arms.” Dorm Azul rests his forehead against yours. “And maybe then you’ll find yourself so taken with my home that you’ll want to stay.”

“A tempting offer.”

“But?” he prompts, his gaze falling to your hand as you palm him through his pants. He inhales a shaky breath.

“What’s stopping you?” the other Azul asks, his voice muffled in your skin.

“Firstly, I’m not a mer.”

“My dear, that’s nothing. Have you forgotten my proficiency in potionology?”

“And how much will one of your potions cost? I’d love to visit, but if it’s going to bankrupt me—”

“For you, a single kiss is all I require.”

“Isn’t that awfully cheap?”

Dorm Azul chuckles at this back-and-forth. “You say that as if you want me to charge an exorbitant amount.”

Glaring, you squeeze him out of revenge. His laughter comes out choked next, replaced with a needy whimper. Unbelievable.

“Maybe I do.”

“I would be careful with those words, dearest. I might take them to heart.”

He ruts against your hand, panting into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, all tongue and saliva. You move on instinct, grabbing at his shoulders when you’re taken to bed next. Both Azuls peer down at you from where they kneel on either side of you. They issue you hazy, lust-drunk smiles. Hands wander, feeling every inch you have to offer. You shut your eyes and submit to titillating touches.

“You really did miss me,” School Azul remarks when his fingers slip into your shorts to rub you through your sodden panties. Your breath hitches, a strangled whine squeezed from your throat, and he laughs. “I missed you, too.”

“I really like you,” you blurt, chest heaving with your every breath. He squeezes your clit to draw another sinful groan from you. “I think—Azul, you’re so—I think you’re so amazing… I wish we talked more. The year—aah… It went by so fast.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“I wanna know you—the real you. I wanna know what Azul’s like when he’s comfortable and when he’s sad and when he’s happy. I wanna—ooh! Please… Please, Azul…” You grab fistfuls of the sheets, arching up towards the hands that caress your stomach lovingly. “I just want you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he—you’re not sure which—promises, leaning over to kiss you. It’s soulful passion, lust bleeding into love. Your cries are lost on his lips when you come undone beneath him, buoyant on a mellow wave.

You sense the loss before you see it.

Half-nude and gasping for breath, you stare up at the ceiling. Your bedroom is empty. All that remains of the Azuls are the animated memories imprinted on the photographs.

“I’m losing my mind…” you mutter, draping your arm over your eyes.

Please let summer pass quickly.

iii. winter - maybe all we are is fools with hearts that tried too hard. and maybe that’s just fine as long as you’re here in my arms.

Azul paces restlessly in his VIP room. It’s been months since he’s seen you, but his heart hasn’t swayed in the slightest. If anything, he’s only grown fonder in the time spent apart. Absence… What a bothersome thing.

“You’re gonna walk yourself into the floor, y’know. Your shoes’ll be all worn out by the time you’re done.”

“I’m aware,” Azul quips, uncharacteristically jittery. He turns towards Floyd. “Do I look presentable? Is anything crooked or misplaced? How about my hair?”

“You’re fine.” At Azul’s disbelieving glower, Floyd pouts. “I mean it. Shrimpy’s gonna like it either way.”

He bristles, defensive. “Who said anything about (Name)?”

“No one, but you’re thinkin’ it.”

“I… T-That’s besides the point! It doesn’t matter. She’s only here because I invited her. Common courtesy and all that.”

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

Azul frowns at the vault set into the wall behind his desk. If only he could pack all of his fears in there and lock them away for good. Then he could continue masquerading as someone fearless and confident. With winter having descended upon campus, bringing with it layers of fluffy, glittering snow, and the cultural festival having concluded successfully, Azul finds himself lost.

This is the last birthday he’ll celebrate at Night Raven College and, subsequently, the last February he’ll spend with you. He’s running out of time.

“Invitation or not, Shrimpy’ll always wish you a happy birthday. S’not like her to forget. Plus, she cares about ya.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Azul’s tone is so sharp that Floyd raises his hands in defense. “Guess not.”

“What would you do?” He inhales a wobbly breath. “If you were in my shoes…”

Floyd scratches the back of his neck, contemplative. “Dunno. Guess I’d wait for the right moment and say somethin’ to get it outta my system.”

Azul sighs. “Jade said something similar.”

“He ain’t wrong.”

“I’m not prepared.”

“No one is.” Floyd smiles at Azul’s baffled expression. “C’mon, Azul, you can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to. S’just how it is.”

“Even so, it’s better to know all viable routes and options before diving into uncharted waters.”

“That’s just it. You can’t know. S’kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“I can’t do it,” he decides, the words heavy on his tongue. “I’d rather accept my future failure now than continue working towards it.”

“Like a coward.”

“Far from it! In business, that’s known as rescission. It is a completely valid method of—”

“You ever realize your feelings and business are two separate things? Not everything’s gotta be about business.”

Azul stands there, nonplussed.

Floyd makes for the door, stopping only to add, “Your fly’s unzipped, by the way.”

“You—” He scrambles to check. Much to his relief, it’s not. “Honestly… That’s not even funny.”

He smooths nonexistent wrinkles, schools his expression into something brave, and exhales slowly. I’m not going to ruin an occasion as grand as this with a half-baked confession.

Having made up his mind, he steps through the door out into the bustling lounge. Like clockwork, all eyes turn to him. He searches the crowd for you, hopeful. But before he can locate you, party poppers resound with a loud bang. Confetti trickles down like colorful rainfall, landing on his suit and getting stuck in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Azul!”

He wants to run and hide. He wants to dive into the sea and seek solace in his favorite octopus pot. He wants to bury himself in the sand and disappear.

Instead, he smiles and spreads his arms like he’s just pulled off an astounding magic trick. “Why, thank you, everyone! I’m pleased you could make it. Do enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight.”

Cheers erupt amongst the partygoers, but they might as well be on a completely different island. Azul turns, hoping to make his rounds and escape, but Kalim intercepts him. Jamil isn’t far behind.

“Azul, happy birthday!” Kalim smiles just as Jamil catches up.

He passes two expertly wrapped gifts into Azul’s empty hands. “On behalf of Kalim and myself, thank you for the invitation.”

“Yeah, super thanks! It’s been so much fun. I hope you’ll like your gift, but if you don’t just let me know and I’ll get you something else. Whatever you want! You deserve it on your special day.”

Azul looks past him, not in the mood to entertain. “Yes, of course. It’s not a problem.”

Jamil raises a brow, but then it clicks. “(Name) wanted me to pass on her regards.”

As expected, that draws his attention. “Why’s that?”

“She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see you on your big, busy day.” Jamil eyes Azul knowingly.

Kalim nods. “We ran into her on the way here, but she said to go on without her.”

Azul doesn’t like the way they’re both looking at him—as if they’re in on some joke he’s not currently aware of.

“Well,” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “her regards are well-received.”

“You’re not going to meet her?”

“It’s my big, busy day, isn’t it? I’m afraid she’ll have to catch me at her earliest convenience.” Azul, gifts in hand, smiles. “Please do enjoy the party, you two. Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts and birthday wishes.”

On his way to the table designed for gifts, Azul spots Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie. They stand off to the side, chatting amongst themselves. He supposes, if anything, he might as well say hello. Setting the gifts down, Azul struts over.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“You know it. Parties at Octavinelle are always somethin’ else,” Ruggie says. Unsurprisingly, he’s done well to fix himself a plate and more. With him around Azul doesn’t have to fret over food waste.

“Your presentation at the cultural festival was very informative, if I may say so,” Riddle commends, sipping his fizzy beverage.

“As was yours.” Azul’s smile tightens. For some reason, he’s always felt the need to walk on eggshells around Riddle. And for good reason, too! Whatever Azul seems to accomplish, no matter how lofty a feat, Riddle seems to do better. “I’m sure you’ve had quite the rewarding experience yourself.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s good timing,” Silver notes, and all eyes drift towards him. Azul perks up. Timing. He needs more of that. “Your birthday came right after the festival. It’s almost like celebrating your hard work and another healthy year all in one.”

“Never thought about it that way. Guess it makes sense when you put it like that.” Ruggie grins cheekily. “Lucky you, Azul.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck. The dates just happened to align… Either way, thank you, Silver. I’m pleased you can look at it with such inspiring positivity.”

“You catch up with (Name) yet?”

“No? Am I meant to?”

“Just asking.” Ruggie shrugs. “She had me run a few errands for her yesterday. Said it was all for your sake, but when I tried to get more info outta her she told me I’d have to wait for ‘the big reveal’—whatever that is.”

Now everyone’s looking at him. Azul feels small.

“With how often I’ve heard her name tonight, I’d think she’s the one with the birthday.”

“Is she really so popular today? Odd. I haven’t had the chance to greet her,” Riddle muses.

“I thought I saw her this afternoon.” Silver furrows his brow, uncertain. “She seems busy.”

“Which is precisely why I can’t fathom the insistence that I ought to have met with her already.”

Ruggie tilts his head. “That the only reason?”

Just how many people are in on this asinine joke? More importantly, which eel is he going to have to wring out for spilling a not-so-secret secret?

Azul realizes his mask is slipping and so he repairs it expertly. If Ruggie takes notice of this, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s bad manners to show up late to a party. I’m sure one of us will agree.”

Riddle nods, but his words are surprisingly lenient. “Life happens. I suppose we can’t fault (Name) entirely.”

“She’ll make it. I’m sure she will. Don’t worry, Azul,” Silver reassures.

He’s not. He won’t. He isn’t.

“If the world was ending tomorrow,” Ruggie says, sliding into a new subject with practiced finesse, “what would you all do?”

“The end of the world…” Riddle frowns. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s a hypothetical. Anything’s possible.”

Silver hums thoughtfully. “I’d spend what time I have left with my loved ones.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna go running back to Briar Valley to protect Malleus?”

“As a guard it’s my duty, but fighting against the inevitable would be pointless.” Silver looks to the rest of them for their input. “If the world is ending and there’s nothing a guard like myself can do to prevent it, then I can only offer what’s left of my time.”

“So companionship. Okay, good to know. What about you, Riddle?”

He huffs. “I refuse to let the world end before I’ve accomplished my goals.”

“Yikes. You academic types don’t rest, do you?”

“No, no, it’s true,” Azul pipes up. “I agree. Why am I going to let the world get in the way of my plans?”

“So both of you are going to resist it until the very end?”

“You said anything can happen in a hypothetical, yes?” Riddle smirks. “In my hypothetical the world says it’ll end tomorrow, but it never does. It keeps saying so like it’s a faulty forecast. The end of the world is scheduled for next week, the week after, three weeks from now. By then, a year’s passed and the world still hasn’t ended.”

Ruggie groans. “That defeats the whole purpose of my question. You can’t give yourself more time when it’s already so limited.”

“Anything is possible if you know what you’re working with,” Azul adds, nodding alongside Riddle. “I quite like this hypothetical.”

“Leave it to the honors students to logic it out and make it more complicated than it needs to be…”

“You wouldn’t spend it with your loved ones?” Silver asks, but it appears as if the question is directed entirely at Azul. “I think I’d want to tell them the things I never got to say. Things I put off saying… Would you do that, too, Azul?”

“I…” He shuts his mouth and then opens it. “I’m not sure what I could possibly say within such a limited timeframe.”

“It doesn’t have to be complex.”

“I guess a good, old ‘love you lots’ is better than nothing,” Ruggie says.

Azul stops short. The end of the world. Time. Loss. Loved ones.

Time! He’s running out of time!

“Well, this was quite the lively discussion, but I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself now. There are a few more people I must meet.” Azul smiles gratefully at the three of them. They wish him another happy birthday before he finally departs, his heart in his throat.

He’s running out of time.

Logically, Azul knows the feeling doesn’t reflect his reality. It’s not as if he has to confess by the end of the school year. Logically, he has his entire life to confess. But who’s to say you’ll stay in his life after he graduates? You might be gone by the time he finally finds the right words, the right time, the right circumstance.

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Floyd’s right. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he does it. There’s no way to know what lies in those uncharted waters until he dives in. There’s no way to know where your heart lies until he confesses.

The world isn’t going to end tomorrow, but if he doesn’t say what he needs to before graduation he’ll never have another chance. And then that world—the world contained within NRC’s boundaries—will implode and that will be that.

At that very moment, a camera flashes. He spins around to search the photographer out and—

There you are, striding through throngs of people to reach him. There you are, dressed for the occasion. There you are, wearing that pretty smile he sees in his dreams.

“Happy birthday!” You turn the photo towards him for his viewing pleasure. It’s of him, staring off into space. He looks so stone-faced with his knitted brows and pursed lips. “Sorry about showing up late. I had to add the finishing touches to your present.”

You hand it to him. The amateur wrapping job makes the gift appear more lumpy than it actually is. It’s heavy like a textbook. Shaped as such, too. Azul wonders what its contents could be. Perhaps something relating to economics? A novel in a particular genre?

“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of both.” He tucks the picture into his breastpocket, battling the urge to tear into your gift now. He needs to know. What did you get him? What could it possibly be? “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Even if the world was ending?”

“Uh… What?”

“Ah, never mind that. It was simply a lingering thought from a previous conversation.”

“That’s so grim! And on your birthday, no less.”

Azul waves his hand through the air. A playful smile draws his lips apart. “Can you believe Riddle said he’d make the apocalypse wait on his behalf?”

“Seriously?” You snort, eyes brightening with amusement. “Even the apocalypse gets a schedule…”

He barks out a laugh. “Insanity, isn’t it?”

“Maybe for us, but definitely not for Riddle.” You glance at him. “What about you? What does Azul Ashengrotto’s last day look like?”

He intends to answer with something prepackaged: Awash in success until the very end!

“Alone.”

“Really? No friends or family by your side?”

“Would that make it better? Perhaps being surrounded by others only intensifies the dread.”

There’s some sort of symbolism in coming into the world alone and going out the same. Azul just can’t quite phrase it eloquently.

“Maybe there’s no right answer. Maybe there’s not any comfort in it either.” You run your fingers over the edges of your Ghost Camera. “We can’t know what lies ahead until we’re there. Maybe that’s why we spend so much time theorizing.”

“Quite the insightful judgment.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t mind being your plus-one for the end of the world.”

“I’m flattered.” He grins. “I shall be yours in return.”

“No strings attached?”

“All the strings attached. So many,” he exaggerates.

“No fair!”

Silence fills in the cracks. You stand side by side, drinking in Mostro Lounge’s upbeat atmosphere. After some time, you nudge him.

“Look at us, speaking about all of these sad things. It’s your birthday, not a funeral!”

He wonders if now’s a good time. Should he lighten the mood and confess? But wouldn’t that just make it even more serious and somber? Is there ever going to be an opportune moment?

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Surprises. Spontaneity. Luck. All things left to chance. All things Azul attempts to anticipate. He thinks back on the many plans and what-ifs he calculated and wonders if it was worth it.

“(Name), I just wanted to say—” He stops himself, his fingers curling around the gift cradled in his arms. I love you and I want you in my life. I don’t want the world to end here with you and me. I want to know what lies beyond and experience it with you—the good and the bad. Everything. “I just wanted to thank you.”

For being my friend. For being yourself. For existing in the same world as me, even if it feels like we’re doomed to be islands apart.

“What’s this? Genuine thanks? Am I going to find an anemone on my head next?”

“That can be arranged. Isn’t it tradition to grant the person of the hour one birthday favor?”

“Hah! You wish!”

I do. I really do.

The party wears on into the night. Azul repeats the same mantra as before: I have time.

When he’s in his room, gifts piled high on his desk, he sits back in his seat and carefully unwraps yours. It’s a book, leather-bound and regal. It looks expensive. While attempting to approximate its value, he reads the title spelled out with alphabet stickers: My Azul. His brow furrows. Just what are you playing at here?

Cautiously, he opens the book to the first page. Your writing winks back at him: Happy birthday, Azul! This is my gift to you. It’s a chronological journal of your school life! :D People often say it’s difficult to picture themselves through the eyes of others, so I wanted to show you what I see every time I look at you. I hope you’ll never forget just how important you are. If you ever do, open this book to remind yourself.

With love always,

(Name).

“Curious,” he mumbles, flipping the page. The layout reminds him of a scrapbook. You’ve decorated it with stickers and patterned tape, scrawled words in different colored inks. There are two photographs—each from Azul’s second year. He’d forgotten about these. That time it snowed so much the students had a snowball fight in the courtyard. That time an alchemy accident (courtesy of Grim) led to Azul speaking in cat for the rest of the day.

In the center, a small blurb reads: My Azul is terrifyingly good at making snowballs within record time, just as he’s terrifyingly good at marketing them at all the right moments. My team was totally losing. Leave it to Azul to swoop in when he knows it’s advantageous… He’s intelligent and passionate. Even when mistakes occur, he works through them effortlessly. (Although it was nice having Catzul for a day!)

He rolls his eyes at that last bit.

The next page displays photos in much the same fashion. You’ve clearly put lots of effort and thought into each arrangement. Azul feels like he’s walking through a museum with every page. Like the first, the rest of the pages that follow include photographs of himself (some with others and some with you) and a short paragraph describing your observations.

His eyes are on the verge of a typhoon as he soaks in every sugared sentence.

My Azul is strong. My Azul is silly. My Azul has the best laugh. My Azul is great at bargaining. My Azul is awkward. My Azul is clumsy (in the best ways). My Azul is resourceful. My Azul makes the best study guides (thank you!!!!). My Azul is a hero. My Azul never gives up. My Azul is a talented mage. My Azul is…

All of these things he’s never heard anyone acknowledge before—have you always seen him in this way? Is this truly what he’s like through your eyes? He finds that hard to believe, and yet there he is on the page, winking at the camera or posing in an outfit from one of the many school trips he’s attended. You’ve added little comments and doodles in the margins and corners. Azul smiles as he reads them.

Noble Bell College sure was something! I’d like to visit again one day…

Vargas Camp was exhausting! I still can’t believe we survived.

Halloween! I want to experience it in the Coral Sea one day. But maybe just for one night. An endless Halloween is too much…

The ceremonial robes are very pretty. They’re so different from the uniforms in my world.

Happy Beans Day! Azul prepares all year for this. That level of commitment is impressive!

Azul reaches the end with watery eyes. He sniffles, so enveloped in a love he’s never felt from any friend before. You care. You truly, honestly care. It’s clear in each and every page—in the words you’ve written. You care about him.

The final page has a blank space the rough shape and size of a photograph. For some reason he understands what he’s meant to do. He slides the photograph you gave him all that time ago from his phone case and pastes it to the space. And then he reads what’s written below.

My Azul keeps all of these walls up in order to protect himself. He’s sensitive and self-conscious. He likes to uphold a perfect image at all times. He likes to keep his weaknesses hidden, his cards close. But then he’s also funny. He’s sincere and gentle. He’s sweet. He’s someone I admire from all sides, good and bad. Even when he’s scheming, even when he’s acting, he’s still Azul. My camera’s captured so many of his moments, which is very apparent now that you’ve made it to the end. But I’m happy to have documented these moments because they showcase everything that makes my Azul himself.

My Azul has never looked “positively dreadful” to my camera. Even on the days where he feels like nothing, my Azul is everything to me. I will always think so.

He’s crying. He can’t help it.

Azul sits there and he sobs.

He sobs until his throat is dry, until his eyes are blotchy and red. He sobs until he can’t anymore.

Holding the book close to his chest, he wonders how he ever managed to befriend someone like you.

An angel. That’s what you are.

An angelfish.

And he’s Azul. Your Azul.

iv. spring - but, baby, i’ll be there. yeah, baby, i’ll be there. it’s been a little hard. i’ve been a little tough. but maybe all along i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid. i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid.

The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers, thick with pollen. Azul’s chest is light, swelling with excitement. A new chapter is about to begin. In just a few hours he’ll graduate along with the rest of his peers and then it’s off to start another story. For Azul, this is just a continuation of something already so prolific.

He strolls past The Great Seven, pausing briefly to admire the Sea Witch in all of her tentacular glory.

“With this weather, it’s almost difficult to imagine they called for rain.” Jade peers up at the sun, shielding its obtrusive rays with one hand.

“They’re always gettin’ it wrong,” Floyd says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So annoying. I was hopin’ it’d rain and then they’d cancel.”

“Unlikely. There are always contingency plans put in place when it comes to an event as momentous as graduation.”

“Bleh. Lame. I wanna skip. I hate bein’ in those stuffy clothes, packed in close like a sardine.”

“If you’re absent, you won’t receive your diploma.”

“What a scam.”

Jade simply smiles. Ironic.

Azul turns around to look at them. “Four years… Gone in a blink. Will either of you miss it?”

“It was certainly enjoyable. I admit there are some aspects I’ll miss quite fiercely.”

“Guess it’ll be a bummer not seein’ everyone all the time. I’m gonna miss playing with Baby Seal and Shrimpy.”

“I’ll miss them, too.” Azul sighs. “(Name) especially…”

“You still haven’t told her?” Floyd raises a brow. “You’re gonna leave without sayin’ a word?”

“That does seem to be the plan,” Jade answers.

“I… I’ve thought it over.” He clears his throat. No time for waterworks. He needs to be in top shape if he’s to deliver the opening speech as Salutatorian. Riddle took first place, which wasn’t a shock to anyone. He always did say he’d make Valedictorian no matter what. Azul had been keen to fight him for it, even if it became clear he’d never surpass him. Second place is irksome, but it has its merits. Although he isn’t going to settle with just that! He’ll get first place one of these days. “We’re better off friends.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that enough?”

“Is what enough?”

“Her friendship.”

“It’ll have to be.” Azul’s gaze glazes over.

He’s run out of time, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that was meant to be.

“Well, let’s not dwell on it any further!” He claps his hands and turns swiftly on his heel. “There’s still work to be done.”

Jade and Floyd exchange furtive glances. They know as well as he does that he’s lying.

But maybe that was also meant to be.

— — —

Crowley tasked you with snapping photos for NRC’s yearbook. “Because I am a paragon of magnanimity,” he said, “I am entrusting this very important task to you once more. Take lots of pictures! Don’t miss a single moment!”

You do just that, photographing the graduates as they wait in a room behind the stage, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. You raise your camera to document Azul when he stands at the podium to give his salutation speech. You do the same for Riddle when it’s his turn. The ceremony is grand, ballooning with emotion. You look on with a cheek-splitting smile, proud of every student who crosses the stage. It’s bittersweet. The friends you made when you were enrolled as a first year are now moving on in life.

Time flies. What a whirlwind year it’s been.

When it’s Azul’s turn and he goes down the line to shake the hands of his professors and Crowley, you wave at him from your place in the audience. He meets your eyes from where he stands, and he smiles.

Your camera catches that moment in perfect permanence.

By the end of it all, your face hurts from smiling, your throat sore from cheering, your hands raw from clapping. Grim grumbles at you to knock it off with the sun shower, your tears dampening his fur. You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “I’m happy for them. It’s a good day.”

He forces his head under your palm, allowing you to pet him and cry through it in peace. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t need him to.

While the graduates meet up with their family and friends, you make your rounds. Kalim introduces you to his parents and siblings—all thirty-something of them. You’re in a daze by the time introductions are finished, and Jamil leans over to whisper, “No need to commit everyone to memory.”

“Have you talked to Azul yet?” Kalim asks after everything has settled down.

You shake your head. “Why? What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask. I know the Headmage wants you to take lots of pictures.”

“We shouldn’t keep you any longer than we already have,” Jamil adds with a curt nod.

You smile. “Congrats, both of you. Good luck.”

“We gotta keep in touch. Promise me you’ll call whenever you can. You’re always welcome to visit, too! Oh, I’ll go check with my parents now! I’m sure they’ll say yes!” Kalim bounds off in their direction.

“Just let me know well in advance. That way I can plan for proper accommodations,” Jamil says, following Kalim with sharp eyes.

“I’ll do that.” You turn to leave and then stop. “I hope you get your vacation one day, Jamil.”

He stares at you, mystified, before a gentle smile softens on his face. “One day,” he echoes. “I hope you’ll find your way home.”

“One day.”

The two of you share a final look before going your separate ways.

Surrounded in such an energetic environment, talking to and meeting families, you find yourself longing for your loved ones. So much time has passed. You wonder how they’re doing. Are they well? Are they worried?

“Aah, it’s Shrimpy!” Floyd crashes into you with so much force you nearly topple. He steadies you with a giggle. “Where’s Baby Seal?”

“Left to gorge on refreshments. Hey, since you’re here, can I get your picture?”

“Course you can.”

Detaching himself, he poses for you. You take a few photos, mirroring his good mood.

“Are your parents around?”

“Mhm!”

“Seriously? They came?”

“Course they did.”

“Did they take transformation potions?”

Floyd nods. “Pops does land business sometimes, so he’s used to it. Mama doesn’t leave home much. She’s real bad at walking on her feet.”

“Ah, got it.”

Floyd grins down at you. “You wanna meet ’em?”

“Maybe later… I’ve gotta keep taking photos.”

“I gotcha. Make sure to snap a few of Azul.”

“Right! Speaking of him, where is he? I’ve spoken to everyone but him.”

Floyd peers out across a sea of faces, scanning each one like a predator sizing up his next meal. “He’s avoidin’ ya.”

“What? Why?”

“Why don’tcha ask him when you see him? Bet he’ll have a fun answer for ya.”

You would, if only you could find him. As the afternoon wears on, you begin to lose hope. If he’s truly hiding from you, he’s doing a great job of it. After what feels like hours of walking in aimless circles, you take pause to consider the situation. If you were Azul and you wanted to hide away for a little while, where would you go?

To someplace familiar. To someplace comfortable. To someplace quiet.

He’s pacing in front of Ramshackle when you arrive. You open the gate and step through, taking each step one at a time. Once you’re within a close enough proximity, you make your presence known.

“Azul?”

He startles and whips around. As soon as he sees you, he lurches forward, intending to leave.

You block his path. “Hey, wait! What gives? I’ve been looking all over for you. Floyd told me you’re avoiding me.”

“Floyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“But I’m sure you do. So what’s up?”

“It’s…nothing. I merely wanted to tour campus one last time.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve come with you!” You attempt to elbow him, but he side-steps you. “Uh, right…”

“Ah, sorry. I… Admittedly, there’s quite a lot on my mind.”

“I get it. Congrats, by the way. Your speech was really good.”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

This…isn’t Azul, you realize, a frown flickering on your face. At least not the Azul I usually see.

“I got to meet all of Kalim’s siblings.”

“Did you? All of them?”

“Every. Single. One. His family’s huge!”

An uncomfortable silence festers between the two of you. You glance at your camera and then at Azul.

“Can you believe that Crowley? He wanted me to take all of these pictures, but there were dozens of professionals who did it much better than me! What was even the point?”

“Terrible, isn’t it? A job as good as the one you do deserves proper payment.”

“Exactly! My services aren’t free.”

Azul smiles, a wistful gloss to his gaze. You can see the cogs turning behind his eyes—can see the calculation as it comes to fruition.

“You can cry. I won’t judge.”

“I’m not going to.”

“It’s fine. It’s normal, Azul.”

He inhales a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, and then releases. When he looks at you next, his expression is hard and riddled with subdued anxiety. A zephyr blows between you, rustling the leaves in the trees, raking through the grass, dragging wispy fingers through your clothes and hair. The quiet expands and stretches wide.

Azul opens his mouth, shuts it, and sighs. A forlorn resignation flits over his countenance.

“I—” he swallows hard and then it just bursts free, the admission he’s kept secret for so long— “I love you.”

Another breeze combs through the premises. Your gasp is swept away with it.

“I’ve loved you for two years. And I… I wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I never could. I was scared and I ran away. I still am! The truth is that I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of messing up in front of you and looking like a fool. I’m afraid of showing you the parts of myself I hate most. I’m even afraid of that phrase—of saying it because it terrifies me to think, in some distant world, it might be reciprocated. But I have to say it, and I want you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I have to tell you.”

You gape at him, utterly speechless. The longer you do so, the more flustered he becomes.

“Y-You’re free to think it’s gross or weird. I understand I’m not the most ideal candidate, but I…” He wrings his hands, exhaling shakily. “I think you’re everything. My whole world.”

There are so many things you want to say. So, so many. But they’re all jumbled, carried along like flowers floating down a stream in spring. You close the gap, taking his hands in yours, and you kiss him.

Azul startles, squeaking against your lips. It takes a minute for him to find his rhythm, but soon he’s wilting against you, his body relaxed. You taste saliva and salt—tears. When you pull back, he’s crying.

“I think you’re the most ideal candidate. I’ve always thought so.” You cradle his cheek in a warm hand.

A sob trembles through him. “I never thought—you’re just so… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“That I’d like you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” “Because…”

“I’ve always liked you, Azul. I’d never lie about that. Your birthday gift—those are my honest opinions.”

“Every one of them?”

“Each and every one.”

He sniffles weakly, drying his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Instinctively, you reach for your camera. And then you hesitate. You’ve always stood behind the protective lens of your trusty Ghost Camera, assuming the role of photographer in order to remain in his orbit. But now you’d like to try putting the camera aside and documenting Azul’s moments with your own two eyes.

He loves me.

You just manage to shut the front door before you’re pulling him flush against you. He presses you up against the wall in the foyer, a knee slotting between your legs. You melt in mutual merriment, grabbing at every part of him. Your uniform blouse is ripped open in a hurry. You try to handle his graduation robes with caution, appreciating expensive embroidery, but vehemence gets the better of you. It’s a wild rush. Hot and panting, you’re shuddering in carnal delight, every nerve alight. When he presses up against you next, half-dressed and hazy with an addictive adoration, you can feel the result of your exploratory touches straining for release.

“Upstairs,” you mumble against his mouth, sweating out of your skin.

You fall into bed as one, tangled around each other. Azul trails kisses up the expanse of your stomach, working you open on skillful fingers. You shiver beneath him, your heart pounding in your ribs.

“I love you.” A kiss to your belly.

“I love you.” A kiss to the valley of your breasts.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips.

You love him just as intensely.

He drags his fingers out next, admiring the slick coating them like it’s a valuable substance. You giggle, dizzy with delirium.

“Can I call you mine?”

You run your hands up and down his arms. “I’d like that.”

“Your boyfriend,” he murmurs, astonished. “I’m your boyfriend…”

“Mhm…” You sit up in bed and climb into his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, you lower yourself. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth. “And I’m—mmh—I’m your girlfriend.”

Azul whines into your mouth. His arms wrap around you to keep you firmly pinned to his body, and he bucks his hips up to meet you the rest of the way. Filled in such a way, connected so intimately, you breathe a satisfied sigh. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Every muscle slackens. It’s bliss, pure and perfect. The both of you mold to one another like sea meeting shore.

You grind down, chasing a mounting climax. “You’re the best—perfect. So perfect. Oh, I love you, Azul. I love you so much. I’ve always wanted to say it.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have no idea how fervently I’ve yearned for this—for you.”

You can’t possibly begin to imagine, but you can definitely relate. Weeks of silent pining, of hoping something might happen and you’d be able to confess without fear. Those days are behind you. Now you can know love in his arms and it isn’t so uncertain.

You lose yourselves in the sensations of sweet, soulful sex. He’s gentle like a spring breeze, dedicated like a devotee at your altar. You’re much the same, your moans just as plentiful. Just as loud. You’re wrapped in wonder when you look into his eyes and find the same amount of love reflected back.

I’m so happy I met you.

When he cums, he digs his fingers into your hips to drag you down and bury himself deeper inside. You unravel shortly after, your orgasm coaxed out by a few attentive massages to your clit. Your bodies, sticky and sweaty, stay connected even after you’ve come down from the clouds.

“Had I known, I would’ve said something sooner.” After catching his breath, Azul rests his head in the crook of your neck. “I regret it.”

“I don’t. Things happen when they happen.” You run your fingers through the tangled, silvery strands of his hair. It’s soft just like him. He leans into your touch and hums appreciatively. “I’m glad it happened when it did.”

“I’m glad I could say it. It would’ve eaten me alive if I’d left without telling you.”

“And are you still afraid?”

Azul places his hand over yours. “No, not anymore. The world ahead looks much clearer now.”

“Am I in it?”

He laughs. “More than that.”

“Oh?”

“You are my world.”

#twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul x reader #n/sfw

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sleekista · 5 months

Text

ignored

alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this photo is my roman empire and new tiktok pfp 😜 (my titles on fics or SO over dramatic icl)

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Being the second captain of Barcelona, meant coming with a few responsibilities. Like showing new players around, and trying to include them in the atmosphere to make the whole move less daunting. It probably makes sense considering we are the best in the world.

Which is what’s happening right now, we’ve signed a new centre-back, considering we barely have any due to injuries. Currently we rely on a defensive midfielder, and anyone we deam can do it. Not ideal. January transfer is like heaven.

We walk around, talk about our lives a little bit as I try to make conversation more homey. Apparently she has a girlfriend who plays for PSG and I talk about Alexia, my other captain and long-time girlfriend. Who may (definitely) have a slight jealousy problem.

After a while of talking and walking, we make it to the gym and I announce the arrival.

“Everyone! As you know, we have a new person joining us! Make her feel welcome, included and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” They nod their heads going back to their respective activities as the new recruit smiles fondly at me, something which doesn’t go missed by Alexia.

I turn to face the CB.

“Now you, let’s get you headed for the locker room. I’ll show you your area and then you can go home for now. I’m assuming Jona has emailed you a schedule of everything?” She nods.

“Alright, now message me if you need anything and I’ll add you to the main group chat all of the girls are in.” She smiles and I lead her toward our changing rooms showing her where she’ll be.

“You can decorate a little bit, add some personality like some of the girls have. Anything you need can be kept here.” I point to a door at the end of the room.

“That’s the showers, obviously if you’re going anywhere after trainings. I know Patri likes to play music, so I suggest some strong noise-cancelling headphones if you don’t like the music. Any questions?” She shakes her head, I smile.

“Well then, go home. Settle into the new apartment, Ale and I live pretty close to you. Same with Ingrid and Mapi, who are also willing to answer anything else you have in mind.”

I pause.

“Now, if that girlfriend of yours ever comes to visit I’d like to meet her, I know it seems straightforward but I do like meeting new people.” I notice the recruit blushing, and pat her shoulder before leaving.

- - - - -

Over the next couple days, I ensure the new defender is fitting in well and she is. Hanging out with Ingrid and Frido but also Keira and Aitana, it’s good to see.

Alexia might think differently. I noticed her getting worked up over something but I can’t imagine what. I can but I don’t know how when a quick instagram search could cease any of her worries. She’s too straight headed for that.

It’s after training when I see her approach, I’m speaking on tactics in the locker room when Alexia slides in next to me, her arm wrapping protectively around my waist. I smirk then hear what she has to say.

“Ready to go home amor?” She says, kissing my neck softly, something she’d rarely do in such a public setting. I stifle my laugh nodding and saying my goodbyes to everyone else, getting in the passenger seat of our car as Alexia insists she always drives.

I sigh, her jaw is set and I can tell something is wrong.

“Alexia, qué pasó?” She shakes her head, her knuckles growing whiter as she grips the steering wheel. I know I can’t do anything but I seem so helpless at the moment.

It’s a completely different change from the confidence in the change rooms to now not even speaking to me.

We head inside without saying a word, I head straight for a shower to hopefully get a grip on where the conversation with Alexia will lead.

- - - - -

After the shower, I walk into the living room and Alexia is sat with her legs crossed in the couch, staring straight ahead at the blank TV. I break the silence.

“If you stare at the poor TV any longer I think it’ll break.” She doesn’t say anything, just nodding slowly her eyes darting toward me before back in front.

“I will not do this Ale. You need to tell me your feelings or we can’t work this out.” She huffs leaning back.

“Lo siento, I just… missed you.” Her voice quiet, I nod in understanding, I spent a lot of time with the new defender.

“So in other words, you’re jealous?” She blows an air bubble between her lips. (do you guys know what i mean by that)

“Maybe.” I can barely hear her voice but I don’t need to.

“Well baby, nothing to worry about because A. she has a girlfriend and B. I love you more than anything. Never forget that. I’ll try make more time and maybe we can meet the new ones girlfriend when she comes to Spain.” She nods slowly.

“Sorry I acted this way.” I shake my head.

“No, it’s ok. I understand, I sort of put you aside. I’ve learnt and I’ll prioritise your feelings a little bit more in the future.” She nods, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Te amo Ale. Remember it forever.” I place my lips against hers, gently and full of passion that I’d never give to anyone but her.

When oxygen gets the best of us I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in everything of this moment. Oh, I never want to leave.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #wlw #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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greynatomy · 7 months

Text

bookworm

leah williamson x reader

request: either Leah, Lucy or Sam.... married to a writer, someone who's name is well known but face isn't . (could be a pen name) ... the relationship isn't know.... reader comes to a game, the team sees reader and thinks Player should shoot their shot....

the book mentioned is by ciara smyth and i recommend reading it

———

For as long as anyone has known her, Leah Williamson was a known bookworm. Her parents have bought countless books once she’d learned how to read. If she wasn’t playing football, she was reading a book.

Away matches? Reading on the coach or plane, Leah will always be found with a book on her person. Everyone teased her about it, but she always gave recommendations on her favorite reads.

Her close friend, Lia Wälti, did tease her at first, like the rest of their Arsenal teammates, but one time during training, Leah left her book on the lounge chair by the pool when Jonas called her over for a chat. Lia picked up the book to inspect it.

“The Falling in Love Montage by Billie Keynes.” She mumbled, reading the title and author.

By the time Leah comes back to her chair, she sees someone else occupying it, her book in their hands.

“Would it be possible to get my book back?” Leah asks, casting a shadow over Lia.

“Shh. I’m a bit preoccupied.” Lia lifts a finger up to Leah, not taking her eyes off the page she is on.

“Uh, that’s my property.”

“And I’m currently using it, so wait your turn.”

Over the next couple of days, Lia is seen with the same book that Leah had. Some of her teammates ask about it and eventually a a good number of them started reading the book.

Another couple of days later, the team is winding down by the pool at the training ground, all reading the same book.

“This is a really good book Lia. Thanks for the recommendation.” Steph complimented, other gunners agreeing.

“Uh, excuse you all. I have been reading that first. Lia stole the book from me. Had to buy a new one.” Leah complains, eyebrows furrowed.

“Shush. It’s not a competition.”

Leah makes a face of offense.

“Actually, since you’re here, does Billie Keynes have any other books? Preferably with more lesbians.” Beth asks.

“Oh, I’ve got a whole list. I’ll send it in the group chat.”

Two weeks later, they were back on the pitch, ready for a new season. Leah sat behind the bench, still healing from her injury.

After the match, Lia walks over to where Beth and Leah stood.

“Hey! Good game, played well!” Beth hugs the Swiss.

“Thank you, but did you see the girl that was reading a book the whole game?”

“Leah wasn’t reading?” Beth looks at Leah, confused.

“No, not Leah. She’s, uh, she’s right there, just walking off.”

“Huh. Weird.”

Over the next few games, including the ones away, more and more of the team took notice of the girl who reads during the match. Always in the same section, same row, reading a book. Even some fans recognize her, being posted on social media by the team’s administration.

During a team bonding, the team decided to play a bit of truth or dare. One having to eat a spoonful of Vegemite, jump in the pool, tell their biggest fear.

The bottle then landed on Leah, being spun by Katie, who had a mischievous look on her face.

“Oh, no.” Leah was sweating, she didn’t like the look on the Irish’s face.

“Now, we know how much you love to read. You’ve turned some of us, not me, but some of us into avid readers, but there’s one that could rival you as a bookworm.”

“Get on with it, will you!” Leah was impatient.

“I dare you… to go up to the girl that’s always reading during our games and ask her out. On a date.”

So now here she was, walking over to the section after the game against City. She walks in small strides, trying to take longer than she needed to, looking back to see her team huddled together watching her.

“Hey.” She says, when she reaches the girl, who was, no surprise, reading a book.

“Leah.” You replied, not taking your eyes off the book.

“Listen, I was dared to go up to you and talk to you.”

“So, you’ve said last night.”

“Let me finish woman.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You give an amused smile at the pout on her face.

“Would you like to go on a date? We’ve not gone on one yet this week.”

“Yes, only if I pick where to eat.”

“But, babyyyy.” She whines. “You know I’m picky.”

“That’s why I want to pick. You can’t deprive your tastebuds from flavor.”

“But—”

“Ah ah.” You interrupted. “Pick me up when you’re done.” You lightly pat her cheek and walk towards the exit.

“So?” Katie questioned, wanting to know what happened.

“She rejected me.” Leah replied with a sullen pout.

“Oof. That sucks mate. Thought she’d be the one for you.”

A month passed since the date was executed. Everyone seemed to forget about it, still seeing you in the stands, but no one paying you any mind.

It was a team bonding night. Everyone agreed to have it at Leah’s place tonight. The thing is, everyone knew except for Leah. On purpose? Only Katie knows.

A loud and heavy knock scares Leah from where she lay on the couch. She cautiously walks to the door, looking through the peephole, eyes widening at the sight of her whole team.

“What are you all doing here?” Leah opens the door just a bit.

“It’s team bonding night. Be a dear and let us in.”

Katie hadn’t waited for an answer and let herself in, the rest following after.

“So, what do you have planned?”

“Didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Actually.” Beth butts in. “Did you guys hear that Billie Keynes is releasing another book?”

“Wait. Really?”

“Yeah, in like a week.”

Lia was looking around her friend’s house, snooping more like it.

“What’s it called?”

“I Think—” Lia’s answer gets cut off as she pick up a book from Leah’s shelf. “Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you have Billie Keynes’ new book before it’s been released?”

Leah’s head whips towards Leah so fast that her head could’ve popped off its socket.

“Uh-well-I-um—”

The sound of the front door opening and shutting cut off her stuttering, leaving everyone else to stay silent, not knowing who else it could be. You walk into the living room, freezing at the sight of Leah’s whole team.

“Hey, you’re the girl who reads during our games.” Beth breaks the silence.

“Uh, hi.”

“Wait.” Katie turns to Leah. “I though you said she rejected you.”

“Well, you see—”

“Oh my god! Where’d you find that? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.” You grab the book out of Lia’s hand, flipping through the pages. “My agent almost killed me cause I thought I lost it.”

“Huh?” The team were now confused.

“It won’t be released until another week. It would’ve been horrible to lose it.”

“How do you have this then if it hasn’t been released yet?” Beth questioned, confused.

“I mean when you write it, you get special privileges.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. What do you mean by that?”

“It means how I said it.”

“So you’re Billie Keynes?”

“It’s a pen name. My real name’s Y/N Y/LN.”

“That’s so cool.” Alessia speaks up for the first time.

“You’re like our favorite author.”

“Aw. That’s so sweet.”

“How’d you come up with Billie Keynes anyway.”

“Well, people named William are sometimes called Billie and my wife is from Milton Keynes.”

“Leah! You made me dare you to ask your wife on a date?”

“Yeah. Thank you for that. I’ve got some bonus wifey points for it.” Leah had a smirk on her face, making the team groan and you slap her lightly on the arm.

“Since we’re teammates of your wife, could we get some special privileges?” Beth asks, hoping you know what she means.

“I’ll even sign the book for you.”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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anadiasmount · 3 months

Text

one dare, one kiss - jude bellingham blurb.

quick sum: when a game of truth or dare goes to plan, you’re faced with mixed feelings and your best friend questioning if there was more than what you two had…

wc: 2.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: this was small and simple, so i finished it!! hope everyone is okay after all this jude content because i sure am not going to stop talking about it ☺️ hope you enjoy! 🤍

it felt silly. the whole concept of the game. the spinning bottle. drinks laid everywhere. people laughing or messing around. at this age you shouldn’t be playing this but after they begged you, here you were sitting as you distracted yourself from everyone.

it started as a game of truth or dare, the dares consisting of calling an ex, posting on social media, eating or take a shot of something, having to read your messages or search history, all that. or also let the curiosity win the best of people and having people to answer truthfully when they saw the dares would be extreme. such a kid but also adult game once you grew up.

what started as a game of an innocent truth or dare, gradually turned into now a mix of that and spin the bottle. everyone was up for the thrill, knowing this was for pure fun and no feelings involved. while you were up for the idea, the hesitation always held you back, forcing yourself to just go along instead of leaving.

you chatted quietly with your friends, teasing one of them since they had a crush on a boy in the group. although at the start you found the game silly, now you cheered and felt your veins anticipating with nerves, not wanting the bottle to land on you. you knew you weren’t as experienced, and the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself, especially if you picked dare.

jude couldn’t stop glancing at you, his eyes never leaving you as you enjoyed the party. was he only one who felt it? the tension? the feeling of desire to take things to the next level? to prove to you, that you didn’t need anyone else besides him? how he agreed this game was silly or couldn’t come to terms with his jealousy if he were to see you kiss someone else who wasn’t him…

jude wasn’t tipsy or drunk, but he felt like it anytime you looked or walked into a room. the ability of you to take his breath away in the smallest way possible, when you smiled, laughed, frowned, spoke, he was madly in love with you as a whole. longing to feel you next to him at all times.

jude bit the inside of his cheek, also feeling his heart race when he saw the empty casa blanco bottle slowly start to slow down. as soon as you saw it was jude’s turn, you felt your stomach turn in a displeased manner, hating the idea if you were to see him kiss any of your friends or a stranger.

you refused to look up, looking down at your nails and biting the inside of your lip as you waiting for the bottle to land on whoever it would. you felt it go slower than usually, testing your limits and patience because it was taking forever.

small gasps and yelps of cheers made you look up, jude staring at you with his lips slight agape. you looked around before looking down at the bottle facing directly at you. the game was childish, but you couldn’t deny the small young school girl in you getting excited over a silly game and getting picked.

“truth or dare jude?” your friend who you’d been teasing the whole night asked him knowing you wouldn’t be able to speak. you watched as he clenched his jaw before answering. “dare,” he spoke lowly but voice full of confidence, you bit your tongue, knowing he would either do the dare or face the consequences.

“for our sakes and yours, we’re daring you to kiss our lovely y/n right here,” she gently shook your shoulders, you send daggers to her, eyes wide as you wanted to shut the idea letting the nerves take over your system. “oh cmon, it’s that or telling everyone what you were saying last night when you were drunk,” she had a playful look on her face, jude shaking his head immediately at the thought.

jude tended to yap a lot when the was alcohol in his system, and last night wasn’t any different except he wouldn’t stop talking about you. how much he loved you, how pretty and kind you were, how you were the only one for him and never judged him, how much he loved your baking or when you wore his hoodies. you and no idea about this, so it raised a question in your head at what they were referring to.

“what are y’all talking about?”

“nothing!” jude was quick to dismiss his cheeks flushing with shyness and embarrassment. you raised a brow, but shook your head, knowing it was probably something boyish. jude somehow got closer to you, now on his knees as his eyes bore with yours. jude could see your pupils dilated, your lips tainted with a colored coat, your nose piercing blinging in the light as he leaned over you.

you cleared your throat, looking around unsure at every on their feet awaiting your next moves. jude leaned his head down, “it’s okay angel… one kiss and we can move onto the next dare,” he said only to you. part of you asked “what if” one kiss wouldn’t be enough for you, another asking if it was a good idea.

all you could do was nod instead of responding, almost being able to hear the squeal coming from your friend besides you. you let out a small breath as jude made the first move and placed his hand around your waist, your thumbs stroked his cheek almost losing your breath. you felt his warm finger tilt your face up to his, his thumb releasing your bottom lip that was stuck between your lips.

your mind raced with thoughts, he was finally going to kiss you, this was gonna happen and no one wanted to stop it. jude closed the last bit of space, his right hand resting just below your pulse as he captured your lips with his. you fell in love with how soft they felt, wanting to cringe at the aftertaste of beer on his lips but instead you found it sweet and pleasant.

this is what you were afraid of, of jude pulling away when you craved and wanted more of him. having waited and dreaming about the moment since forever, or more specifically after slow dancing at a school dance. jude on the other hand had to hold back the groan that wanted to escape his lips, his hand slightly tightened along your pulse point and throat.

it started off small and bare, now turning into a full makeout. his tongue tracing your lips before fully dominating your mouth, his hand now fully wrapped and secured on your waist, as he felt your tongue also trace his in a heated manner. he swallowed a small whimper from you, feeling your hands come to his face and push him away gently after kissing for a while.

you felt hot, every cell on fire, hair on your arms raised despite it all. with one simple kiss he already tortured your head into wanting more than just one. “we said a kiss jude, not a full makeup session… nice to know how you feel though,” your friend winked at you, watching how you sat slowly. your lips feeling sore, and now tainted with him.

it was all you could think about, how he tasted, how we kissed you like a devotion, how he held you, how you knew he didn’t want to pull away at all. the group decided to get more drinks before starting another round. you had gone into the house, making your drink to calm the pit in your stomach. was it possible for the aftermath to be this strong?

from jude:

where are you??

i thought you were with your friends?

to jude:

i’m in the kitchen! in the main house

from jude:

omw, i need to talk to you about something.

you avoided his eyes as he walked into the dark and empty kitchen, only strays from the moonlight decorating the marble tiles floors. your heart raced faster at his footsteps approaching you. he caged you in, hands on either side of you as he forced you to look up at him. “are you okay darling?” he spoke in a hush tone, making you shiver.

“yeah i-i-am good, just getting a drink, you? are you okay?”

“that was something, wasn’t it?” he asked, wanting to talk about what happened. to him it stopped being a game as soon as they dared him to kiss you. to jude, this was your official first kiss and he wanted to pour his heart right here and then. “the game? yeah, yeah it was? they’re probably regret some of the stuff they did tomorrow…”

jude frowned upon hearing you say regret. we’re you regretting kissing him? the kiss that was forever engraved in his head now? how could you possibly say that when you almost begged for more on the spot? “regret? do you regret what happened? our kiss?” jude was afraid of your answer, especially once you began to move around.

a moment of silence passed, shaking your head no. “no i don’t regret it… not one bit which should seem like an issue,” you laughed scratching your temple. “why would it seem like an issue? hmm?” jude cocked his head to the side, looking at you endearingly. he could see you, but you couldn’t pull back as your eyes traced his veins that roamed his skin.

“well we’re best friends? best friends don’t kiss.”

“are we just that though, y/n?” jude tested the waters, his hand sneaking around your waist once again. the familiar heat arose in your body again, “jude we shouldn’t. they’re waiting for us-”

“answer the question y/n. they haven’t even noticed we’re gone and i don’t think they’ll come looking for anytime soon,” jude reassured you. “i don’t know okay? i don’t know jude! this whole situation it’s making me feel and question things!” you try to escape but he impossibly pulls you closer to him. chest to chest.

“shh baby… it’s okay… just me and you here like i said. you’re scared and that’s okay but i promise you once we’re done, it will be worth it,” jude said, making you weak in the knees resisting the urge to kiss his pretty face. “so tell me. are we just friends?”

“no we’re not. because friends don’t just kiss and feel stuff. they don’t practically live together, moving miles away from their home to be with them. friends don’t sleep and cuddle in the same bed at night. friends don’t hold onto hope and love one day they’re going to see how you feel for them…”

“you’re my every thought, when i wake up, go to bed, when i hear the stupid craig david song, your name. it’s impossible at this point because you’re everywhere. i tried to tell myself maybe because we were attached but jude i cant take it anymore, i feel like im going to explode,” you continued.

“me either y/n… believe me… all i could think about how it felt right. like we are right now. how perfect it feels for you or me to be in each others arms. how when we’re together the only thought and feeling i have is pure happiness and security. i want that with you. i want to prove to you it’s me and you. it’s always been like that. y/n and jude…” you giggled at his last reference, tucking your head into his chest.

“just so you know and we’re on the same page, i want to be more than your best friend, i wanna be your boyfriend and maybe your husband one day… i just love you so much y/n, you have no idea,” jude confessed eyebrows slightly twinging as spoke, leaning down to sit you on the counter, still caging you.

“and i hope you know judey,” you smile as you said his nickname jude shyly looking away, “i’m just as madly in love with you… have been since the first time we met. can you believe it? all these years and it took a simple truth or dare to confess our feelings?” you ask in bewilderment, hand stroking his jaw as you pulled him closer to you.

“i really want to kiss you right now,” jude said along your lips, making your tummy flutter with eagerness to feel him pressed on you. “then do it. we’re not playing anymore-” you were quickly shut up, jude bring you close to his ad his hand rested along the nape of your neck. the room was hot, your legs tightly wrapped along his hips as he continued to devour you as a whole.

the night was just starting for the both of you, your friends long gone. just now the two of you relishing the intimacy together in his room. the pants, groans, moans, all causing you to feel dizzy and incoherent. jude not far behind as he was more in love with you. it wasn’t just sex because you felt the need or have to, his thrusts and rolls of hips proving it was love making and gloat over the closeness of your bodies sunk together.

you wouldn’t have had it another way, feeling thankful for the stupid silly game of truth of dare.

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb

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