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cherry-leclerc · 11 days

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so long, london ☆ ln4

genre: angst, toxic relationship traits, fluff, humor, established relationship, one-sided, smut

word count: 7.3k

You've never been read so easily by someone until he entered your world. All is good, all is true love, but realistically, that all comes crumbling down. Leaving you with a series of doubts. The kind you ignore because why not?

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, m!receiving, f!receiving

inspired by this and this !

To be completely fair, the accent wasn’t all that familiar to you. It’s odd, then alluring, then it makes you curl a brow. Australian? British? Irish—no, that’s too far off, ridiculous, really.

It’s the end of spring, which means it’s also the start of summer, which also means your job is in full force. Which is good if you’re still considering transferring to London to study abroad. You were, thank you very much, which is why you needed a shit load of money.

Being a waitress isn’t all that bad; the view was breathtaking. Laguna Beach has always been and always will be. It’s impossible to take away its charm.

The diner is small, yet crowded, so it’s hard to get through with a stack of breakfast plates atop one another. A piece of bacon slips past you as you let out a curse, mentally noting to clean it up on your way back. “An order of pancakes, french toast, two hashbrowns, bacon, four freshly squeezed orange juice—shit. I forgot, it was grapefruit, wasn’t it?”

Setting down the plates as carefully as you can with their assistance, you let out a sigh. “I’ll be right back—”

“It’s fine, mate. Orange juice is just as good.” His voice is soft and rough, all at once.

You halt, fixing your apron, awkwardly. “No, it was my mistake, I’ll fix it—”

Mmm, delicious, his friends chime in as they take a sip from the fresh beverage. The blue eyed boy signals with his dark brows. “Told you. Don’t worry about it.”

“Cool,” you mumble. “Enjoy. Oh, and let me know if you need anything.”

They don’t, which is quite upsetting since you were slightly curious to find out if you were right. Smoking a joint, you hear a loud cough. The mysterious brunette waves. “Tough shift?”

“Of course not, I love it.”

He nods. “I’m sure you do, but I’m also sure that’s not the complete truth.” He sits. “You’re on your break, I presume, which means you're not on the clock, which means I’m no longer a customer, but rather just a stranger. A stranger whom you will most likely never see again, so…”

A puff expands through the blue sky and yellow sun. You squint. “I’m worn out. Down. Worn down? Both.”

“You’re good at hiding it.”

A chuckle. “But you were able to notice which obviously means I’m not much of an actress.”

He motions over to the cigarette. You hesitantly hand it over to him as he sucks sharply and releases. Bemused, you make a face. “I was because I go through the same thing, oftentimes. More like all the time.” Another hit. “I understand.”

“I’m not sure whether I should feel seen or scared…” Humor laces your soft voice as you quirk a brow. He laughs.

“Seen, definitely.” A beat. “I’m Lando. Foreign visitor.”

Shaking his hand, you ease up, smiling, gently. “Nice to meet you, Lando—foreign visitor.” A pause. “Resident.”

“Really, now?” He plays along, teasing. You can hear it.

“Lucky, I know. Been here my entire life. Can’t complain.”

“I bet.”

“Yourself?”

Lando winces. “England. Bristol, specifically. Ever been?” Nope. A toothy grin. “Don’t—rains all day long, gloomy all year. It’s depressing, but…” He relaxes. “It’s home.”

Staring off into the waves, you cover your face from the strong breeze. Salt air splits your tongue in half as you wipe your mouth. “Your accent. It’s captivating. As soon as I heard it, I grew jealous.”

The Brit frowns. “Your accent is much better. Clean,” he adds and you let out a snort. Accent—what accent? He rolls his blue eyes. “That one. You might not consider it one, but it is. Very…pretty.” A rosy tint flourishes onto his cheeks. Summer heat, summer breeze, perhaps.

Retreating the roll from his hand, you stomp on it, letting the light die. “Thank you, Lando from England. You made my day.”

That’s the end, really. Just a nice encounter that still doesn’t make much sense, but you’re glad it happened. Normally, after a tiring shift, you borrow Benny’s surfboard and rush towards the killer waves. The soothing water releases a lot of the built up tension that lies between your shoulder blades.

Today isn’t much different. After getting yelled at for— “getting the fucking order wrong, bitch” —and— “my toddler just threw up, yes, oh, nevermind, had a…teensy accident” — you don’t second guess it. As soon as your skin connects to the warm temperature, you sigh in sweet relief.

“I need to get out, I need to get out, I need to—”

“You just got here, though. Plus, the water feels nice, don’t you think?”

Startled, you sit up on your board, rocking back and forth. With what looks to be a painful tan, Lando smiles, sheepishly. “Hello…again.”

“Are…” You look around, but the ocean is practically empty. “A-are you stalking me?”

His smile drops. “W-wh—no! Of course not! I saw you from afar, and I just thought…” He grimaces. “I should go.” Except he can’t. Every chance he tries to tread away, the waves only push him back. It’s comedic. “One sec…crap. One more—shit. Okay, two, two sec—”

“Ah, forget it, stay. Land of the free, no?” Rubbing your nose, you pull his paddle closer. “What brought you out here?”

“Heard it was a good day to attempt to surf. Tell you what—it’s not.”

A giggle escapes, then lessens. You furrow your brows. “Hold on a minute; are you teaching yourself? As in, no instructor? Just you? Alone? Solo?”

“Yeah, what about it?” he grumbles. “I can do it.”

You’re wheezing at this point, stomach clenching. “That’s nearly impossible! I’m mean, sort of, sort of not.” When his eyes don’t switch from being offended to getting the joke, you quickly snap your lips shut. “Can I teach you? It’s not that hard.”

He gapes, curls grow more and more. They’re cute, the way they bounce when he shakes his head. “And if it’s so easy then why can’t I just do it myself?”

“How long have you been trying?”

He burns up. “That’s not the point.”

“No, that’s exactly my point. You need a mentor, and lucky for you, I’m a surf instructor on the weekends. Come on.”

The twenty-four year old is not sure he even wants to be here, suffering from an overdose of embarrassment. Every single attempt ends up with him splashing straight into the clear water. He groans for the millionth time, clutching into his board. “I think I’m done for the day.”

You don’t fight him on it. His bruised nose makes you feel bad, and his chipped lip makes you want to giggle, so yeah, that’s enough. He can taste the salt water as he smacks his lips, trying to get rid of it. You click your tongue. “That doesn’t really do anything. Not until you bathe and brush your teeth. Or rinse. Either or.”

He invites you to the mansion he’s rented for him and his friends, declaring that there would be endless amounts of alcohol, but when you decline, he rubs his jaw and grimaces. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood, either. Craving tacos?”

So, that’s what you two do; converse over an amazing meal. You can already note his skin shedding, but for some reason, it’s endearing. You even spot a couple of moles. Chewing rapidly to try and forget about the spice, he pants. “London, eh?”

“England,” you correct. He deadpans you.

“That’s basically the same thing. It’s along the same lines. Just like Monaco and Paris.”

You shrug. “London—yes.”

Sniffling, he reaches for his can of Coke. Gasping left and right, he winks to the best of his ability. “You’re a smart girl…I think. And you’ll get in…I think.”

“Gee, thanks, I think.”

He laughs. “I hope you get in. I really do, Laguna Resident.” You roll your eyes. “You won’t miss all of this, though?” The warmth, the people, everything. A bittersweet feeling runs through your veins, momentarily, before you wave him off.

“Nothing is holding me back, forcing me to stay. I’ll be just fine.”

Finally, he calms down, occasionally sneezing. The way he excuses himself makes him look very polished. Lando licks his lips clean, drumming his long fingers against his lap. Later you would find out this would be his nervous tick. A teller. A good one, at most.

“Call me? When you get there, I mean—if you want to, of course. No pressure.”

And while you may not have a reason to be a part of SoCal anymore, something else seemed to tug you to the other side of the world. “Might have to take your word for it.”

“Good.”

You grin, looking down onto your lap. Later he’d know this was your way of avoiding his stare. Butterflies, for the meantime. “Good.”

“No, no, no! You were supposed to—forget it, nevermind. Did you at least—” The stream flatlines and Lando is left speechless, headset drooping down, inch by inch. The way his eyes furiously twitch is enough for you to peck his cheek.

“It’s late anyways. Come on, let's go to bed.”

There’s utter nonsense, and mumbo-jumbo that he spills as he reluctantly follows. If Max had done this, and if Max had done that. Pouting, you cradle his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re telling me you wish you would still rather be playing than spend time with me?” You gently slap his face and he smiles, sheepishly. “I’m hurt.”

“No, no, you’re right. Of course I want to spend time with you.” When you peck his nose, he sighs. You can faintly smell the cheap beer, courtesy of said Max, so you let out a screech, creating a distance.

“Never mind. I don’t want to spend time with you, you reek.” His smile drops and you pinch the tip of your nose. “Reek, I tell you. Go brush your teeth!”

The McLaren driver snarls, then makes his way over to your shared bathroom. “I remember when you used to be fun. Seems like a decade ago.”

“And make sure to floss!”

If you’re able to remember, you could openly admit that you did make that call. Actually, text. You got cold feet and sent a text last minute. You met up at the pub just around your dorm, the one that is only busy during the weekends, so is practically empty during the week. Hence, Wednesday night.

Wow. Your tan is gone, is the first thing he says when he sees you. It’s true. Being away from the California sun has completely changed you. A bit, but it did. Giggling, you accept his hug, finding warmth. London weather. “How was the move? I want to hear all about it.”

Oh, the move was as good as it could get. The airport lost two of my luggages, but it’s fine, I didn’t really need many dresses, because yes, you were right, it’s always gloomy. I miss Benny like a baby, but we always keep in touch—I’m actually going to visit him for his birthday. Which is in January? Yes…yes! January third.

“What about you? Work?”

First of all, can’t really consider it work when it’s fucking fun. Second of all, it’s quite swell. I’ve got a new teammate, which sort of sucks, but he’s nice. The car is a bit wonky, but I’m sure that’ll change throughout the course of the year. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Conversations switched from having them on a steady stool in the pub, to having them in the comfort of his flat. Plus, you two were more open and honest with one another.

Benny, yeah, it’s pancreatic cancer, and no, I’m not okay.

The team is fucking shit. My arm still hurts from last week's crash, but I’ll be fine. Please, don’t you worry, love.

Lando is an absolute angel. He pays for your tickets back home, along with Benny’s treatment. He declines the help at first, but as soon as he meets your smiley boyfriend, he accepts. I’ll pay you back. Once I’m better. Lando laughs with a muppet dive. Of course—of course, Ben.

You take care of him and his injuries. Follow doctors orders. Ice at least twice a day. Don’t forget to take your pain meds. No, for the love of God, they’re not candy, sweetheart.

It’s the best and the worst. And it’s all yours.

He’s very much obsessed with Mila as soon as she’s born. He congratulates his brother and his sister-in-law once, and off he goes, straight to the newborn. It makes you fall in love even more, which you didn’t know was possible, but here you were.

“I say give it a year or two.”

“More like five. Come on, honey, be realistic.”

“I am! Can’t you tell he adores her?” Oliver scoffs. “He’s my brother. I would know.” His wife rolls her eyes, then moves on to snap a few pictures of Lando and Mila, then a thousand videos.

“Crap. I want one,” he mentions on the drive back home. He gently rubs his thumb over your leg; you shudder. “You saw me, you were a witness, I was a good enough babysitter!”

“Babysitter? You’d be a dad, not a babysitter,” you retort, though your wobbly grin is a dead giveaway. A long finger pokes at your ribs as you laugh, scooting as far enough away as the McLaren allows you to get. “One day. Just not now.”

And he knows that’s true. He’s busy with racing, you’re busy with school; it's irresponsible. Your confirmation was sweet though—it was enough. The Brit hums, continuing the drive with a bright smile.

“One day, then.”

Baby talk was a fun thing to dream about. To think, daydream. Marriage talk? Now that’s serious.

It started on a Sunday morning; a non-race week. He’s finally back home and you're ecstatic. He was too, but that slowly goes out the window when you rush him to the room. I like where this is going, he starts when you drag him along. You bite back a smile, waiting for his noise. “What the shit?” he yelps, pulling on his curls. Spinning to face you, your boyfriend groans. “Where’s all my gaming—sweetheart,” he softened his voice, softened his eyes. “Sweetheart…”

“It’s gone! Bye-bye, adios!” You twirl around the empty room. “You don’t need it, Lando. It was rotting your brain.”

The color from his vibrant face fades, leaving him to let out a delirious laugh. “No, no, it wasn’t. Wh-why would you do that?” He doubles over. “I’m going to be sick.”

After a while of letting him drown in a puddle of self-pity, you snicker. Blue eyes look up at you; furrowed thick brows. What? “They’re in the guest room. I just needed us to paint the walls.” Releasing a scream, Lando plunges for you, picking you up and spinning you around until you flop against his arms.

“Asshole!” you yell, smacking his arm. After a series of instructions, you both fall into a pattern. He focuses on the left side of the room and you focus on the left and the right. It just makes sense.

“Stick to your side,” he mumbles, pushing you away. You burn a laser to the back of his head. “I can feel you killing me—stop it.”

“Then quit drawing, you’re ruining it!” There’s a cat, a dog, a house, his racing car, you—you presume— and Mila for good measure, but he serves her no justice as she appears to be more of a blob. Going over it with a thick layer of paint, he curses to himself. As soon as he picks up the thin brush once again, you immediately set your foot down. “No, Lando, think before you commit.”

But he must not hear you—or ignores you—because suddenly he’s drawing something unrecognizable. You almost laugh when you guess it must be a donut, but when he draws the familiar rock, you come to a halt. “Stellar, no?”

“Hardly. Looks like more of a neck guard—next!”

But he pushes you away as soon as you reach over to cover it up. “I’m being serious. I’m mean, not now, but someday. Are you…” His voice drops, slowly, and he drums his fingers onto his thigh. Your lips turn upward. “...open to it? Getting married?”

“Well,” you start and his breath hitches, nervously tapping, awaiting for your response. Pressing your lips against his, you breathe out, and he groans. “I love you, Lando. I’m more than open to it.”

He sighs in relief, kissing you harder this time, with more emotion. “Good.” A beat. “Thank you.”

Slowly, but surely, you’re celebrating your three year anniversary—in Japan, a race week—but still. Yuki specifically gives you two a list of places to visit, so it makes everything a thousand percent easier. Fifth, he grunts, throwing his helmet onto the tiny bed in his motorhome. Screw it, I’m blowing my brains out.

“Hey now, quit talking like that.” A kiss. “I don’t care if you’re upset, I happen to be super duper proud.”

“It’s Super Trouper,” Oscar yells from the other side of the wall. “Don’t disrespect ABBA like that.

“Yeah,” Lando hums, pulling you in. “Don’t.”

“I’ll pull the trigger,” you warn.

He gasps, theatrically. “You wouldn’t dare…”

“Try me.”

“I already have—sweet.” His dirty implications makes you heat up and the Australian groans as he turns up his music. Lando snickers, changing quickly. “Happy Anniversary. It’s not everyday, you know?”

“I know,” you cheer, playing with your promise ring. You beam up at the bubbly Brit. “I just wish we were home. Celebrating in the comfort of our own place.”

He doesn’t mention it, but you considering London your home—despite not growing up there—makes him crush on you harder than ever before; it's sickening. Clapping loudly, he stands up, reaching for your hand. “Then let's go back home. What’s keeping us here?”

“Yuki,” you grunt, taking his open hand. “We’d be breaking his heart, Lan. We need to do these twenty-one things.”

“Ah, he’ll understand.” A pause. “If he doesn’t then we’ll just buy his next meal to make up for it.”

Cackling, you peck his face, over and over until he pushes you away in a jokeful manner. “This is why I love you, Lando Norris!”

And he’s content, admiring the way you pack happily. He’s never seen someone so giddy to spend fourteen hours on a plane just to curl into the comfort of their bed. He’s just never seen or met anyone like you.

It was perfect.

As soon as he picks up his own digital camera, he’s in love. Part of you would be jealous, definitely, if it weren’t for him stopping to take a thousand pictures of you. One in the McLaren garage, next to his car. One where you balance yourself on a swing, eventually falling straight onto your face. One of your newly bruised nose, due to the fall. One where you’re sleeping, drooling like a—

“Delete that, I don’t even want to see it!”

Shaking his head full of curls, he runs away. “No! I happen to love it!”

“Lando!”

“You look adorable.”

“Fuck you, I’m leaving. Spend the night alone, loser.”

You don’t end up keeping your word. You get your revenge, eventually, when you pie him in his sleep. He nearly chokes, but it’s all in good fun, according to you.

But neither of you would have it any other way. You just happen to be his muse.

His greediness starts to show overnight, nearly. It catches you off guard, leaving you like a lost dog. The worst part is that it’s not directed directly at you, per se, but it felt like it. Most of the time, you’d deal with this by talking to him until he calms down, by making him a cup chamomile tea, because—

“It doesn’t help!” He paces the small room, throwing his gloves harshly against the wall.

“Studies prove—”

“Studies my ass.” An angry huff. “I just need to be alone. For a while.”

And it also catches you off guard how you don’t fight him back on it. Instead, you’re glad, fleeing out the door, straight to God knows where. Strolling, you twist and turn the thin band.

Where are you going?

“You said you wanted to be…” Except it’s not Lando. George quirks a dark brow. You gulp, forcing a smile. “I’m sorry. I thought you were…” A painful pause. “I thought you were Lando.”

“Must be the accent.” He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Carmen actually made me chase you down. Said she wants your opinion with something about the wedding. You know her—perfectionist.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Throwing your hair over your shoulder, you beam brighter this time, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I have plenty of time.”

He’s rude when he finds you. Well, not really, but even your friends notice it. I’m telling him to wear a simple black and white suit. A bow or a tie, he can decide, but he’s insisting on wearing white and I’m like hello? You giggle, orbs moving to find George with a playful glare.

“Why can you be the only one wearing white? It’s this some kind of rule or?”

“No, but it’s weird!” Carmen turns to face you, desperate eyes begging for backup. “Come on! Tell him it’s weird.”

Plump lips flicker upward. “I don’t know, George, it is a b—”

“Awful. You’re going to steal all the attention away from Caren and you’re going to look horrible. Just go with a traditional suit.”

The Mercedes driver doesn’t pay any attention to what was just said to him, but you and Carmen do, and that’s probably worse. You can tell she’s bothered by your boyfriend's unwanted opinion and for him going after her fiancé, so you briskly stand up. “Sweetheart, are you, um…ready to go?”

The Brit nods, fixing his bag that lays over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m here, no? Could have let me know you were leaving, too.” There’s tension in his voice; annoyance. “Also, I forgot your bag. I’ll wait for you here.”

His implication makes you queasy. You blink hastily. “Of course.” Turning to the older couple, you smile politely. “Um…text me, yeah? Let me know what you two decide on.”

Once you rush off, Carmen narrows her usually kind eyes, hard. George is quick, placing a steady hand onto her lap, and clears his throat. “You know, just because you didn’t place a podium for once doesn’t mean you get to act like a jerk. Seriously.”

Lando chooses to ignore his comment, bidding goodbye, and strolls over to find you, flustered. “Now I’m ready,” you confirm with a weak smile. The Brit laces his fingers through yours and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a warm kiss.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I do. I do know.”

He’s trying to be more gentle, you can tell. With his words, with his actions. It reminds you why you chose him. He had apologized after a quiet night, settling with what he had done. How he had treated you and his friends. George is quick to accept his apology, and you were too.

“I didn’t mean it,” he groans quietly, chest pressed against yours as you ride him. “I s-shouldn’t have—fuck.” The way you clench around him tightly makes his head spin. A whine escapes your swollen lips as you nod, fast, then slow, then staggered. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you pant, finally opening your eyes to find him already looking up at you. He squeezes your hips harder, keeping you firm. “You were upset, that’s all. I get it.”

She gets it, he remembers thinking, considering himself lucky for having a girlfriend who understands. His highs. His lows. His wins. He loses. This—this is why you were the one.

But once again, his lack of display is what reluctantly pushes you away.

Then back in.

It’s been three months of him not even picking up his camera. Maybe he’s just too lazy to develop his pictures, so you do it for him. There’s really no excuse. That’s what you say with light humor when you push it towards his chest, but he only cocks his head to the side. “I never asked for you to do that.”

Your stomach churns. You lick your chapped lips. “You don’t need to. I just…did it. Thought it might help get you out of your slump.”

This pushes something in him as he narrows his brows like a set of sharp knives. “Slump?” A scoff. “What? Because I haven’t been able to get a win?”

“What?” You’re dazed. “No.” You’re confused. “No, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know—why would you?”

“I mean it because you’ve been down, that’s it. Not because…” When his eyes don’t change, and your heart continues to pound, you flip him a smile. “You’re right. My choice of words weren’t the best. I’m sorry.”

The blue eyed boy clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth once, then sets the camera to his side. “Whatever, it’s fine, I guess.” And suddenly he’s making his way to his gaming room, leaving you with wide eyes and a bruised heart.

“Wait!” Carefully, you pick up the small camera, extending it out towards him. “Wh-what do you want me to do? Should I pack it into your suitcase? Or maybe I could—”

“Pack it, yes, but into a box and put it in the attic.” He continues his march. “I lost interest a long time ago, either way.”

You’re not dazed. You’re not confused.

You’re broken hearted.

You would think that you would have learned by now. He loves you, damn it. He’s just having a tough time proving it, but it’s fine, stuff like this happens all the time.

“Hello, darling,” Carmen greets, pulling you away from your trance. The camera pans over to Lance, Carlos, and Lando. She gingerly takes the spot next to you. “Feeling alright? Lost a bit of weight and color.” Her concern can’t be hidden behind even the tallest mountain.

Been working out. London is gloomy all day long. Haven’t gotten proper Vitamin D. Looking down onto your lap, you twirl your fingers. Over and under, over and under, over and un—

Her hands feel warm against yours and you can’t help but flinch, instinctively needing to pull away, but she holds on tighter. Not even your boyfriend's hands have felt as warm as hers; not in a very long time. “You can talk to me. Anytime.” Eyes remain downward, watering, so, like most nights before bed, you blink them away. Hard, fast, and cruel.

“Have you chosen the song you want to be for your guys’ first dance?”

She remains still for a second, focuses directly into your soul and you blink faster before she has a chance to decode you. She always did. “We have. My Funny Valentine. Hear this, Daniel wants to sing it. With a band and the whole thing. Nightmare.”

And you’re glad for having her stories to distract you from your feelings, because silly is what they are. Childish. False. It’s only until the end of the race where you two realize you hadn’t been paying attention. As soon as George walks in through those doors, he jumps up and down. “Hey. Top five!”

“That’s my boy!”

You feel like a creep watching them kiss with sweet emotion you can’t help but miss and crave. Your eyes flicker over to the flat screen T.V. and you’re shooting up from your seat. “Shit! I have to go!”

He’s in the middle of a speech of some sort when you rush in gasping for air. Sheepishly, you wave, then scoot closer to Zak who gives you a quick side hug. Everyone claps and then he’s making his way to—

Not you.

First it’s Zak, then he squeezes by. Then it’s his entire team. Then it’s Oscar. Then it’s Carlos, which is the last straw because he’s not even supposed to be here. “Mind if I squeeze in?” you squeak. The Spaniard shakes his head.

“Be my guest. I should leave anyway.” “Are you sure?” Lando quips. “Why don’t you stay?”

Brown pity eyes dance over to where you look down, then settle with a wobbly smile. “I, um…I actually have a few emails to respond to. Stay, Carlos.” It’s pathetic and embarrassing how he’s the only one who convinces you to stick around. Not even your own boyfriend. Though his hand remains by your side, it feels all for show, which it is because as soon as a few fans take a couple of pictures of you two, he finally retreats his arm.

Once the Ferrari driver finally jogs away, Lando turns to face you. “Where were you?”

“I was watching the race.” Your heart beats faster.

“Liar. Your lips just did the thing.” A halt. “What thing?”

“There! There it is again! You didn’t watch it, did you?”

Taking his palms into your own, you kiss them, feverishly. “I was, but then Carmen came over, and we started to talk, and then one thing led to another and…” Blue eyes stare down, empty. You grimace. “I’m so sorry, Lando. You got second place and I wasn’t there to celebrate. I’m so sorry.”

And perhaps he feels he already made you suffer enough with his ignorance, or maybe he was still high off his accomplishment, but it surprises you when he leans down to peck your forehead. “Just don’t let it happen again, yeah?”

You let out a breath of relief. “Pinky swear.”

He laughs, ruffling your hair. “Ah, see, I don’t believe in pinky promises.”

“Take my word for it then.”

He winks. “Good enough.”

I can’t believe we haven’t had a sunny day in weeks! Flipping over to face him, you pout. Weeks! That’s bonkers.

The Brit hums against his blankets, against you. It’s officially been a year since you two have been dating and it honestly felt surreal. Especially in moments like these. The kind where he was just yours.

I tried to warn you.

You groan, pressing your cheek against his firm chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady, indicating he’s half asleep, indicating you were too awake. Indicating you should probably go to sleep, too.

Guess I’ll just have to learn to live with it.

Guess so.

You know…I sort of love it.

You say so because you haven’t lived here your whole life.

I could easily, you want to confess. If it’s with you, then yes, I can. But it’s too soon and you don’t want to scare him off. Not when things were a dream. Cloudy, sunny, rainy, sunshine—I don’t care. I have a good enough reason to stay.

He vibrates due to his chuckle and you giggle due to his chuckle. Look at you being all cute.

Not trying to be cute, just speaking my truth.

In one motion, he flips over you, hovering. You love it? Like truly?

I love it. I truly love it.

Make me believe it.

Are my words not enough?

He grins, eyes crinkling. I’m more of a pinky promise type of guy.

You lift your small finger and he’s fast to wrap his own around it. Pinky swear. I love you and London.

And it was true. It was true for a while.

It all came crashing down on you, really. It was alarming, yet you had expected it. It was lonely, but survivable. It came in phases. You first noticed the doubt a bit after your third year anniversary, but no, he loves me. I know he does.

But you were good at pushing it all away; far, far, and further. Until you couldn't think about it anymore, even if you tried. His acts were a suck punch, though. Everytime you started to heal and stand up, he only sent a new one. A stronger one. But, hey, no—he loves me. He only says it every night.

Like last Monday night. When he fucked you in his hotel room.

Or last Thursday. When he went down on you under the table.

Or Friday. When you sucked his cock in the shower.

All right before bed.

God, I fucking love you so much. Hot cum shoots down your throat and he groans like a madman. Love you so, so much. You can’t even begin to imagine.

So, when your friends ask and check up on you, that's what you say. Yes, he reminds me everyday. He means it. Don’t worry, we’re doing better than ever.

The second comes in like a slap to the face. He had just done what you consider a low blow, but no—he’ll make up for it. He always does.

“Bullshit.” You blink your hot tears away. Carmen never—ever—curses. She’s too classy for any of that, so it’s almost funny to hear it now. But it’s not, not really. She sighs, rubbing her temples. You and your problems were stressing her out, God, how could you be so selfish?

“Forget I said anything. I’m being a fucking crybaby—”

“No. You’re not.” It seems like she’s choosing her choice of words, delicately. “You have every right to be upset. Every. Single. Right.”

And for the first time in a while, you feel completely seen. Heard. Understood. And that was a lot, but it must have been what you needed, because suddenly, you were spilling the ugly truth. The reason why you didn’t attend the last race. Or the one before that one.

The reason why she and George found you clutching onto your chest that night in Vegas. Forgot my keys, you giggled. You two have fun! Don’t worry about me.

Carmen is older, wiser, and so fucking mature. You love it. But you hate it because now that you sit here with more of an open mind and less defense, you blink like a lost kid at the grocery store. “You love him.”

A whimper. “I adore him.”

“A lot?”

“Infinitely.”

“But?”

Another whimper, louder this time, more wet. “He makes me sad sometimes. Is that normal?” “It is—” And it’s the delusion that always makes you stay. You’re quick to swallow it down, eager and fast. It’s all you need to hear. Carmen shakes her head. “But not to this extent. You get sad over them forgetting your favorite drink order, or when they forget to pack your heels.” An unwanted pause. The kind that gives you the room to overthink. “Not because they locked you out. Or because they forgot your anniversary.”

And she won’t admit—not when you were already so broken—but Lando hadn’t forgotten.

She likes wine, fuck, she’s obsessed with that sparkly shit. Wine testing! We could go wine tasting and I could do it there. He twidles with the ring box. Is that good?

George raises a playful brow before releasing a laugh. It sounds great. As long as you have a nice place to take Instagram pictures, then you’re set to go. Chicks love that. Isn’t that right, love?

But she pinches her lips, forcing a smile to the younger Brit. Lando lets out a shaky breath. It’s about to be our four year anniversary—it’ll be perfect. I’ll make sure.

So, yes, she knows he loves you. But that still doesn’t make the way he treats you right. What kind of love was that? Sobbing loudly, you push your hair back. “But you don’t get it! When he’s good…” Her eyes soften and yours grows more glassy. “...he’s so good.”

“Is it worth the pain, though?”

The third one is the breaking point you had been avoiding for so long. The day started out gray, either way, and not just because of the dark London weather. Dragging your feet to the end of the bed, you tremble. You got the call at four a.m. and those are never good, so why were you shocked to hear from Benny’s son?

“Oh, baby…” He pulls you atop his lap, kissing your temple. “I know how much he meant to you.”

“I still owe him a surfboard. The expensive kind, too.” He quirks a confused brow, but you continue staring off into space. “They stole the last one. The one he always lent to me. His mom had gifted it to him.”

“When did this happen?” he questions, trying to keep you talking because that sounds like a good idea. To get your mind off things.

You hum. “Last January; his birthday weekend.”

“Birthday weekend? I don’t recall—” “You weren’t there.” He doesn’t have to remember to know that’s true. It's become a habit of his nowadays and now he’s feeling guilty. Another hum, this time sadder than the prior. “He was going to teach you how to grill steak, just the way I like it.”

His stomach churns. “And how do you like it?” A beat. “I don’t remember. Ask Benny.” Then you’re crying like a newborn.Worse, actually. But he holds you through it all. So maybe this was do-able. He was nice, after all. You could stick with him forever and you’d be grateful. After what seems like a decade, you finally calm down, though your nose keeps runny. “The funeral is later this week. Are we going?” You were, with no fucking doubt, but you just wanted him to say it. There— on the tip of his tongue. You can spot it and he could taste it.

“Sweetheart…you know I have a race.” You didn’t expect him to drop everything and venture off with you, but this cut deep. Still, you understood. Plus, the proposal was ditched the moment you got the eerie call. So, yes, everything was unbalanced, but it wasn’t your guys’ fault. It was just a twist of fate. Nothing you couldn’t handle; you’ve dealt with worse.

“Right. I can go by myself.” He feels bad—you know he does—but anything, really? “You can write a letter, maybe? Just a couple of words for his family. I know it’ll mean a lot.”

He chuckles. And you should have known at that very moment because it wasn’t one you’ve heard before. “Why would I? I barely even knew the guy.”

“Excuse me?”

The Brit continues tracing shapes onto your thigh. “I’m just saying! It sounds a bit weird coming from someone who spoke to him once. Twice at best.”

And you’re no longer dazed, no longer confused, no longer heartbroken.

You’re just angry.

Pushing yourself off him, you glare coldly. “Barely even knew…the guy? We Skyped with him over dinner! You paid his bills! You fucking attended his sons wedding! How could you be so…fucked.”

“Sure… He was a sweet lad, but do you really think they want to hear from me?”

“Maybe not, maybe they don’t give a flying fuck, but I do. Remind me why I loved you!”

He’s up now. His heart quickens, pierces through his skin. “Loved?”

You sigh, clutching your chest. “Love. I said love.”

A huff. “No, you definitely spoke in past tense—do you not love me anymore?”

“Lando…” “No. Just be upfront with me, I can handle it. Tell me now so I don’t waste my time any longer.”

Every uncertainty you ever had, every word of advice Carmen has given you comes crashing down. She was right. He’s keeping you around for good fun. For his benefit. “Your time? What about mine? You’re the one who’s been blocking me out these past couple months!” “That’s not true—”

“Fuck, you’re right—this past year. God Lando! Haven’t you noticed how good I am at apologizing now? My zombie appearance? You left me out in the hallway! All because of what? Because I didn’t tell you I was going out with the girls?” A sour laugh. “Wake up—it’s 2024. Since when are you a shitty masochist?”

His jaw clenched. “I was worried about you! It was fucking Vegas, what was I supposed to do? And for the love of God, this again. I. Didn’t. Hear. You. Knock.”

A peach seed forms onto your chin. Skin is flushed and tears stream down your face. But he’s fine. He’s tall and firm Hard headed. Without an ounce of regret. And you want to do it. You want to make him feel what you’ve felt.

“I got my degree…”

“Woo-fucking-hoo, we’re not talking about that right now.”

“I lived a few good years, filled with pure happiness.”

He pauses.

“But I see it now. Past all the gray clouds, I see it.” He can feel it coming and he’s desperate for you not to say it aloud, but you shrug it, face downward. “Nothing is holding me back to stay.”

His tone washes away like the Laguna waves as he gets closer to you, cradling your face. “Yes. Yes you do. You have me…”

“Lando, quit lying—I haven’t for a while now. I was just a trophy you didn’t want. One you got bored of.”

“That’s not—” “True?” A beat. “It is. And you know what also is? I don’t love you anymore.” The light in his eyes gave out, pitch black. He feels as if he’s going into cardiac arrest and you…you look at ease. Peaceful. Free. With a soft smile, you push his hands down. “I don’t think you love me anymore, either.”

“Don’t say that,” he pleads. “Please, don’t say that. Of course I love you.” Rushing over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box you only ever dreamt of. “You want proof—here! Take it! It’s yours anyways.”

“Where was this a year ago?” Opening the velvet box, you’re left with an inaudible gasp because of course it was gorgeous. And he feels a gist of hope when you place it onto your ring finger, but he slowly pales when it doesn’t fit.

“No. No. That’s your size. I know it is.” He takes it from you, analyzing it in an accusing manner. “I swear it was, I pinky…” The heater kicks on. “I swear.”

“It’s alright. This is the right ring…just not for me.” It shouldn’t affect you to see his cheeks grow splotchy, to hear his voice tremble like a kid who just skinned his knee against the pavement. But he was once your other half, so it does.

“I don’t want you to go…”

“I don’t either. I loved being here.”

“Then stay.” You purse your lips, then scrunch your nose. “It doesn’t love me, though. And I can’t go unwanted.”

If we start saving enough money then we could buy the house—you know—the one close enough to drive to your parents? Sweet, no?

Won’t they hear us fuck?

Ew, gross. No. I’d tape your mouth before I let that happen. You pinch his ear. This is your home.

And SoCal is yours, so why don’t we move there?

Because I don’t want to. I want to be with you and the people you love, in the place you love. Because I love you and I love the people you love, and I love London.

You’re quite literally perfect. I hope you know.

You make it clear everyday.

And I won’t ever stop. Because you deserve to know.

“This place is cold, the way you said it was. This place is gloomy, the way you said it was. But this place isn’t a home to me anymore…the way I once thought it was.”

Should he have been more careful—more caring—then he wouldn’t be here. This wouldn’t be happening, but it is. And it’s no one’s fault but his.

Sniffing, you rub your swollen eyes. “I’m going to pack my things and go to Benny’s funeral.” It's a declaration. He nods, attentively. “And I’m not coming back. Is that okay?”

No. It wasn’t okay. You’re tearing him in half, you’re stabbing his heart over and over again. You’re telling the truth and putting yourself first. Something he was awful at doing. What brought you two to this very moment in time.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I treated you the way I did.” I love you. “But if that’s your decision, then go on. Do what you need to do.” I love you.

“Good.” I love you. But I can’t say it aloud if not I’d stay forever.

You smile and he smiles back.

“Good.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

Hi lovely 🫶

Do you think Aaron and BAU!wife!reader would play matchmakers for the rest of the team. No one suspects Hotch of course but he’s just as invested as reader.

"She's at it again."

Lewis's voice breaks across the silence of the BAU, and Derek glances curiously at her. He follows the woman's gaze, landing on you peering around a corner, watching Reid walk down the hallway with one of the employees that works a level below the BAU, in counter-terrorism. She's been coming around suspiciously often, and you'd been caught conspiring over the state of their relationship more than once over the past month.

"The baby has left the cradle," You hiss excitedly into your phone, "I repeat: the baby has left the cradle!"

"Nosy," Derek laughs, but his eyes linger on Spencer's retreating form for a moment too long, "Man, she and Penelope are really having their fun with this."

"I'm having my fun with what?" Comes a sweet voice from behind them, and both agents turn in their chairs to find none other than Penelope Garcia, obviously not on the phone.

Lewis glances back to you, and you're still chattering into the receiver. She hears Derek begin to question Penelope and swivels back around, now further intrigued.

"You mean to tell me she's not gossiping with you over that phone?" Derek jerks a thumb towards you, and Penelope follows the direction until she sees you.

Her lips, perfectly pink and painted, pop into a prim pout as her shoulders sag, "No! I thought I had all the best gossip in the BAU."

"I guess not," Lewis muses, staring curiously back at you as you watch Spencer hold the elevator doors open for his mystery agent, "I wonder who she's talking to."

"-The baby has left the cradle!"

"Where are his hands?" Aaron asks, raising a handful of cashews to his mouth, "Are they in his pockets, or is he touching her with one of them?"

"His left hand is on her back," You squeal, "And the other is just at his side! He's- oh, he used it to open the door for her, and he guided her through with the one on her back."

"Good boy," Hotch muses thoughtfully, munching happily on his snack, "He's learning. Remember when he used to make her open the door for him?"

"He is wiping his hand with a wet wipe," You observe carefully, "But not the one he's got on her. Hopefully she doesn't think he thinks she's germy."

"Are they taking the elevator?" He asks, and at your confirmation, he stands, carrying his ziploc bag of cashews to the window.

"Okay, they wouldn't spend their entire lunch break at the little vending machine lobby on the fourth floor," He decides, peering out from between his blinds onto the street below, "So that means they're probably headed to the café across the street. I've got eyes on the door."

"I'll pull up the CCTV footage," You declare gleefully, grin so wide that it's making your cheeks ache, "If you'll excuse me, handsome, I have to make a visit to Miss Penelope Garcia."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months

Note

*shuffles in* au where Luke is good and where he tries to pursue Percy’s older sister reader (reader also likes Luke too)?

Recently you’ve began to take notice how every interaction you had with Luke -past a certain period of time- had shifted somewhat in a different direction that had only seem plausible within your dreams.

What was it that had changed?

He has began to enclose the distance between you and started ramping up the physical affection that anytime you talked to him, it felt as though you were pushing the boundaries between romantic and platonic. Not to mention how when he needed to get back to his camp duties he seemed to hesitate on the idea of leaving your side, his already dark eyes somehow had gotten even more darker in colour with disappointment that your time was cut short, and the way his hand seemed to share the same disappointment by slowly moving down your arm and lingering at your hand longer then usual before pulling away completely; leaving a trail of warmth in it’s wake as though it was still slowly dragging it’s way down your arm.

‘See you at dinning pavilion yeah?’ He’d always ask and you’d always say yes, which seemed to be the right thing to say as his smile became a little less forced and more genuine and his eyes brightened at the prospect of seeing you again, as though it was the only thing that mattered most to him.

Today was no different than any other. It started out like it usually does, with you waking up, getting Percy up and heckling him a little as you tended to do before the both of you got changed and started marking your way out to start the day, where you saw Luke standing nearby the steps of the dinning pavilion, obviously waiting for someone.

Percy to scoff and nudge you in the side. ‘Lover boy is waiting for you, again.’

‘He isn’t my lover boy Percy, so lay off him alright.’ You replied, playfully shoving him by the shoulder and ruffling his hair, smiling when he batted your hand away, unamused.

‘I don’t know,’ he drew out, ‘it seems to me that you’re the only one at camp who’s oblivious to the fact that he’s trying to woo you and doing it way too hard in my opinion.’ He muttered the last bit under his breath as he tried concentrating on sorting out his hair. ‘And besides it’s not like he’s trying to make an attempt in hiding it either I mean look at him! He looks like an excited puppy dog seeing their owner after a while with you!’ Just as Percy said those words, Luke’s expression immediately brightens upon seeing you and he starts to make his way over.

‘Heya Sea angel.’ He greeted before realising that Percy was also there, hands on his hips and looking at him with a raised brow, and laughed. ‘Heya Percy.’ Your brother only smiled briefly at him, ‘hi Luke,’ he said shortly only to then look towards you and patting your arm sympathetically. ‘See ya later coral for brains, don’t choke now will you?’ He smirked teasingly before leaving you both to yourselves; You wanted to smack your brother upside the head for his comment but instead said ‘say hi to Annabeth for me will ya fish breathe?’ At this Percy only looked back at you with a look that told you that’s exactly where he was going, causing you to laugh at how well you knew your brother.

You looked back to Luke and saw him staring at you with a look you only seen him give you in your dreams, a soft look in his eyes that seemed permanently locked onto you and a dopey smile, you had to subtly pinch your arm to make sure that you were awake and not still sleeping before clearing your throat and smiling at him.

‘Heya golden boy, have I ever told you that it’s a mystery how you can always be all bright and chipper at this time whilst the rest of us look like dead.’ You joked and despite not thinking it was at all that funny, Luke still laughed and you didn’t notice that you were showing more attention to the way he ran his fingers through his dark hair until he began speaking. ‘Well maybe I have something that I always look forward to seeing first thing every morning.’ You didn’t know if you were reaching but the way Luke worded that and the way he was looking at you made you believe that he was talking about you in that moment.

‘Whatever it must be has got to be quite important, especially if you’re willing to get up this early.’ You replied, hoping that you weren’t looking eager or desperate so early into your conversation to knowing who this mysterious person was.

‘Yeah they really are.’ Luke admits as he steps closer to you and reaches to brush something off of your shoulder, but let’s his hand linger there as his thumb absently begins to stroke patterns into your clothed skin; You swallowed thickly and tried to remain focused and not let all of your attention to be drawn to the hand on your shoulder. ‘So Luke Castellan, golden boy of Camp Half-Blood has a crush?’ You questioned, putting a hand over your chest as though hurt and sighed dramatically. ‘Whatever will your little groupies who clamber to watch you train will think of this?’

Luke scoffed at this as his hand squeezed your shoulder. ‘They’ll live and besides I’ve had my eyes on this person for a long while and have been trying to muster up the courage to ask them out on a date but only…’ He trails off as his hand drags down your arm excruciatingly slow before grasping your hand, causing your breath to hitch, his eyes seemed to flicker down to your lips on multiple occasions before settling on looking deeply into your eyes. ‘Only if they wanted to, that is.’ You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly hyperaware of how this all looked from an outsiders perspective, and feeling at a genuine loss for words but still tried your best to act unaffected.

‘What’s holding you back from doing so?’ You asked, voice barely above a whisper. ‘For all I’m aware you’re a great guy Luke, so I’m sure they’ll say yes because anybody would be lucky to date you.’ You heard Luke inhale deeply and you thought you said the wrong thing but before you could backtrack Luke had already beaten you and said;

‘Then date me.’

You blinked once, twice, three times. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘If you think I’m such a great guy, then why don’t you date me then?’ He continued.

‘I-i mean-‘ you were stammering now at his straightforwardness.

‘You just said that anyone would be lucky to have me, then be the one who’s lucky sea angel.’ He concludes, he was practically pinning you against one of the columns of the pavilion now, his forehead was pressed against your own and you could feel his lips brush against your own with every word that past your lips, you felt like you were going to faint then and there but held strong because when were you going to get another chance like this? ‘What’s happening right now?’ You asked, feeling a little lost and out of your element at this instance. You wanted it to be what you think this was, he was literally confessing to you but your brain couldn’t comprehend what your heart had been waiting for so long.

‘I’m asking you out sea angel.’ Luke said with a charming smile, ‘so what do you say?’

You didn’t need to think twice about your answer that came out of your mouth almost automatically. ‘Took you long enough Golden Boy because i originally thought I was going to have to make the first move. I’m glad that I’m wrong.’

‘So am I.’ Luke replied as he casted his eyes downwards to your lips, licking his own. ‘Can I kiss you now?’ You scoffed, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and closing the last remaining bit of distance between you two, muttering against his lips before passionately kissing him. ‘You didn’t need to ask but I appreciate the sentiment.’

#pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo imagine #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #pjo series #Percy Jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfic

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chuuyasheaven · 8 months

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bsd men as tits ass or thighs pls :3?? (specifically meursault boys)

“Tits, Ass or Thighs— What do they prefer?”

“—Everybody’s got certain preferences, don’t they? So, what are theirs?”

Tags: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Chuuya Nakahara, Sigma / afab! Reader, Nipple play?, ooc! Sigma, praising kink, degrading kink, overstimulation, pet names?, hdc format ig, thigh riding?, hickeys, mentioned lingerie?, spanking, mild brat taming, atp everyone may be ooc, face sitting, oral sex (afab! and m! recieving), titty job, messes of their milk, might contain grammar errors, this is a lot holy shit, etc.

Notes: Maybe u just meant Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya but I added Nikolai and Sigma for funsies— hope this is okay tho!! And I never wrote for Sigma before so sorry if he’s so ooc. . Maybe he’s gonna be added to my list lol.

Dazai Osamu ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 I just know that he loves your thighs!! In my opinion, DAZAI lives for seeing you in thigh highs, especially if you have thick thighs. What do you mean you don’t wanna crush him with them??? What else are they made for then— oh, right, hickeys. It’s obvious that he’ll leave some marks here and there for fun, but another thing he lives about them is face sitting. This is literally the best way to die?!!? But also he lives to grab your thighs when he eats you out!!!

💙 Scenario;

He’s been at it for too long, you don’t even remember how many times you came already. . “Dazai, p–please. . S–sensitive!”, you tried to beg, but Dazai was way into this— Once you sit on this mans face, he won’t let go until your too sensitive, Dazai also always leave hickeys while he’s at it. Chanting how he would love to die this way, being crushed by your massive thighs. “—Why should I? You’re still talking properly, I won’t stop until you’re only able to moan my name. Now be a good girl, alright, ‘donna?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 In all honesty, this man is a mystery for me– but if I would have to chose, thighs. FYODOR is kinda religious and stuff, meaning he’s definitely gonna be kinda traditional. (i do not know wtf I’m talking abt.) Fyodor doesn’t know what it is, but something about you in white lingerie and white thigh highs sets him off completely. Looking all innocent but being the complete opposite? Yes, absolute approval from him. But being the busy man he is, he’ll let you sit on his lap while he caresses your thighs!! :3

💙 Scenario ;

Seriously, how desperate are you? Walking up to Fyodor in white lingerie and white thigh highs while he’s obviously working? He finds it quite amusing how you think he’ll stop immediately to fuck you, no he won’t, yet. Fyodor just commands you to sit on his lap, now you’re getting off on his own thighs. But you’re still wearing panties, though he doesn’t care, you wanted this, didn’t you? As you keep grinding against it, he slapped your pussy through the fabric multiple times before. The small whines and whimpers are cute, but won’t change his mind to take you right now. “—I don’t really know what you expected me to do. . Well, actually, i did. It’s quite adorable how you think just because you’re desperate I’ll feed into your desires. Anyway, you seem to be getting off pretty easily, slut.”

Nikolai Gogol ;

💙 Tits 💙

Come on, this is so NIKOLAI, seriously. He's so silly, he would literally call them his personal stressballs. (Do not even try to deny it, it's canon.) Nonetheless, he likes to cum on them, Nikolai will make a mess out of them every time whenever you're giving him head. Another thing their useful for, in his opinion, is tit fucking!! It's a nice feeling for him when his dick's inside of your tits. Not to forget, your nipples are pretty fun to play with, but there's one last thing about them. .

💙 Scenario ;

There are many reasons why Nikolai adores you riding him! He loves how he barely has to do anything, hearing the adorable sounds leaving your mouth while you get off on his cock and most importantly, the way your tits bounce with you. All he's doing is laying back and enjoying the view of your tits almost bouncing out of your bra, he would love if they were to actually jump out. “—Hm, would you look at that! Your tits are seconds away to spill out of your bra, dove. I wouldn't mind if they did, maybe you just need to ride my dick faster. . Just like the needy whore you are.”

Sigma ;

💙 Tits 💙

I’m not really sure if it’s accurate, but running an casino ain’t easy. So what’s better than having you and your comfort. .—able tits? SIGMA would never admit it, but he loves them, dearly at that. If he ever needs an break, his head would probably rest on them. On the spicy side, he loves a good tit job. You mentioned this once and Sigma wasn’t against it, sure he was blushing over your suggestion but after he tried it, he loved it!!!

💙 Scenario ;

It felt good, really, Sigma loved your suggestion! He never thought of something like this, he never thought about recieving a tit job, but it felt heavenly. Just the way your tits were rubbing against his cock so good, it felt unreal. . The most beautiful whimpers left his lips, with his flushed expression on his face too, you assumed Sigma was enjoying himself, very. Soon he reached his climax, letting his cum leak on your tits. “—F–fuck. . You did s–so good, darling. Now, lay back and let me return the favor, yeah?”

Chuuya Nakahara ;

💙 Ass 💙

Ah, yes. CHUUYA is, in my opinion, an ass man. I saw a few people say that, and I agree. Like, he’s literally proud of that. He would slap your ass unexpected, respectfully though. He wouldn’t care if you’re carrying a bakery or not, he still slapping it!! Chuuya loves to spend money on matching bras and panties for you, but on your in general. Sometimes it gets to your head or something and you start to act out, which our ginger won’t let slide.

💙 Scenario ;

Lately, you’ve gotten on Chuuya’s nerves. Yeah, he loves to spend money on you and you, but he won’t stand you being bratty. As to right now, he’s ‘punishing’ you for it. The reference for ‘punishing’ is quite just fucking you until it’s stuck in your pretty little brain not to act out again. This time though, Chuuya added something to your punishment. . “Ch–chuuya. . ‘m sorry, I–i didn’t mean to—”, you tried to apologize, only to be silenced by another spank. “—Really? Too bad, you’re gonna take this if you want me to fuck you, baby. Just keep on taking f’me and I’ll fuck you soon enough, m‘kay?”

OH EM GEE YOU GUYS IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO FINISH

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hugsandchaos · 24 days

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Random bit, but does anyone else wonder if ghosts from the ghost zone react to humans similarly to how humans react to ghosts? Like sometimes I just want to write Danny in human form around Frostbite in a manner that’s kind of from Frostbite’s prospective, and describe Danny’s human form in a way that connects to the living world or at least partially does. Let me just show you what I mean.

It was odd for Frostbite, seeing the Great One’s human form for the first time. True, he literally asked for it during the checkup, and he’s met Sam and Tucker before, but something about this was different. Perhaps it was the simple fact that Frostbite had only seen him in ghost form until that point, maybe it had something to do with him being a halfa. Who was to say when there was so, so little information on Halfas?

Hair the color of freshly fallen snow, much like the fur of Frostbite and his people, now turned as dark as a shadow. Perhaps even darker, just like Sam’s. Unlike Sam, however, Danny’s eyes had a different color. A shade of green that both practically and often literally glowed just like the ectoplasm all ghosts were made of had been replaced by a light blue. Looking at them reminded the chief of ice, and he was sure that any glare from them would feel like ice piercing a ghost’s very core. His skin was a little darker now, but Danny still appeared a little paler than Sam.

Looking at Danny now was like looking at a glimpse of a world where everything was different. Frostbite knew that the two realms were obviously different, but it felt more... perhaps “dangerous” was a good word, or “mysterious”. The thumping of his heart was picked up on more easily by the machines used to read his core vibrations, and the thermometer rose gradually until it reached 94 degrees. That temperature was extremely dangerous for a ghost with an ice core, as the average temperature for one was between 10 to 0 degrees. And yet Danny Phantom’s recorded body temperatures were always between 32 and 40, which was by itself alarming enough. Now it was all the way at 94?!

“Young Phantom, are you alright?! The thermometer says that your body temperature is 94 degrees!” Frostbite exclaimed.

Danny nodded and smile a little, his new ghost teeth, which Sam and Tucker called fangs despite them being rather small, were visible for a short while.”That’s actually close to the average healthy temperature for a human, which is 97 to 99 degrees, but I guess being half ghost lowered it a bit? It’s when the body temperature reaches 100 or higher that we should worry.” He said.

“...I need to update your record.” Frostbite said after a moment’s silence. Once the checkup was over, perhaps he could ask the Great One to bring some medical books on humans to better understand the living, and dead, paradox that was Halfas.

“My what now?” Danny asked.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #dp frostbite #danny phantom frostbite #Danny phantom prompt

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kismets-barista · 5 months

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Hold onto your Stetson, @ohposhers; have I got some personal HickDory lore for you 😎💜🌟🫧

Excuse the insanity for those who don't feel compelled towards these two

SO!

Hickory and JD met a few good years before the events of the World Tour when Dory was traveling to find Lonesome Flats, got heatstroke and passed out in the desert. Wakes up to Hickory shadowed in the flickering light of a campfire beneath a canopy of the brightest stars he'd seen since the Neverglades, but it wouldn't be until QUITE a few months later until they really started developing crushes against each other. (Cowboy under the stars, you'd think he'd fall right then and there, right? 🌟)

Why was Hickory already in Lonesome Flats, you might ask? Where was Dickory?

In a glue trap, I say in response. Hickory came from Yodelsberg (is there a canonical name for this?) for international study and to learn about new music. He fell in love with country because yodeling and country music are actually quite gorgeous together. She Taught Me to Yodel, anyone?

Delta Dawn obviously didn't take to Dory showing up and around the town, but after some convincing by Hickory and lots of proving himself (plus a vulture attack that resulted in John Dory saving the very young niece of Delta Dawn- Clampers-) he 'earned' a place there and began to work around town.

It was weird for him.

He'd never quite settled down, until then.

(Now, the specific timeline, yearly I mean is a little muddled because I'm still crafting this, but I'll put them out about three years, now.)

John Dory was still living in Lonesome Flats, and he'd started a relationship with Hickory. They loved each other, as my cohort in crime @protagonist-art (CHECK OUT THEIR ART I LOVE THEM SM MUAH) has Hickory tell John when we get write them, "More than the moon loves the ocean." As surely as the tide pulls in and out, so the lovers return to each other.

So Via, what does Hickory think about BroZone?

Oh, my sweet star.

He doesn't know.

After returning to the devastated Troll Tree, John Dory lost a piece of his heart in the damaged pod they used to live in. It was the first time he went grey, and the memories of his brothers started shifting from what was, to what would never be again. He couldn't find it within himself to talk about them, and has his secrets.

But so does Hickory.

Girl wdym stop being so mysterious.

Heh. I know. It's just a glimpse into my dark mind /ref. Anyways, Hickory never told John Dory he was a Yodeler troll. (Another piece of lore that Quizzy and I worked on together and I think it's brilliant.)

Huh? Aren't they in a long-term relationship? Won't this cause issues later on if they don't share these things with each other?

Oh, they love every aspect of each other too much for their bond to truly be broken.

And yet.

One morning, years after just living and loving, John Dory wakes up with a massive headache and nausea.

"Maybe it's that horse that kicked me yesterday, could've gotten me harder than we both thought."

"Lemme check for a knot, Darlin'."

No knots, but there was an egg.

🌟 (Here I'll say that I'm massively in love with the headcanon that trolls conceive through true love- it isn't quite necessary for them to physically do anything unless they want to. Just them, wholeheartedly trusting and putting everything into their relationship and pouring their heart out to their partner.)

They were absolutely ECSTATIC, and rightfully terrified in their own ways. Neither of them were looking for children but not against it, and after resting for a few days they began to plan. A nursery in the house, baby books with millions of names scattered on the coffee table, toys and cute little baby clothes for when the little one hatched.

Wanna know two of the names John Dory had in mind? Rhonda and Dolly.

They were ecstatic until the night John Dory woke up absolutely ill and with a pit in his stomach.

They lost the egg, and it was the second time John Dory went grey in his life.

A week after this had happened, John Dory left a bundled lock of his hair at Hickory's nightstand and did what he knows how to do all too well. He ran.

Hickory never went too far out of Lonesome Flats in the hopes that John Dory would come back. He couldn't imagine what would happen if his love came back and didn't find him there.

The events of World Tour come about, Hickory meets Branch, and travels for the first time since John Dory left.

John Dory continued to travel, until the events of Band Together.

But don't worry, dear readers, for as surely as the tides come in, so will the lovers meet again. 🌟

Aaaand BOOM! That's it! 💜 I've got lore behind the names Rhonda and Dolly as well, and am SO down to answer any questions about them that anyone has. For you, Posh, thank you for asking and helping me to share a story I've been working on, and for everyone else that read this, thank you kindly! I hope that everyone who made it this far has quite a lovely day, or if you didn't, have a lovely day anyways!

Remember to take your meds, drink water, eat something, and stretch!

💜🌟🫧

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dragon-watcher03 · 27 days

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My take on how Alastor would fall in love

So, bro is AroAce right? This means he lacks interest in s*x and romance (correct me if I'm wrong) but he can fall still in love. The only way this would happen is if he has known you for a long, long, long time. I'm talking at least 10-20 years. So you'd probably have to know him when he was alive as well, so let's say you 2 met at around 20 in the 1900's.

You'd have to be very interesting to look at and talk with for him to even consider walking up to you to have a conversation. If you have a mysterious aura, the odds are in your favor.

Naturally, you'd fall in love first because of his charming personality and good looks, but you'd obviously be too scared to say anything to him seeing as he'd never show any romantic interest in you. So you kept your feelings to yourself for many years.

After maybe 5 years of friendship, he'd start to know small things about you that only people in relationships would know. Of course, he would be oblivious to this and just chalk it up to you being very good friends. He has yet to develop feelings for you romantically, but he'd say you are his favorite person if he was asked the question.

It would take even longer for him to grow comfortable with you both touching. 10 years minimum. But it would start off slowly from a peck on the hand when greeting, to being slow-dancing partners.

At this point, he'd start to notice he's been feeling different around you compared to a few years ago. He'd miss when you weren't around and would memorize every little thing about you like that of a stalker. He'd also notice how he wasn't disgusted when you touched his skin compared to other people, not getting that lingering feeling of dirtiness when having skin-on-skin contact.

Now, he'd never stalk you, it's ungentlemanly. But he has killed a few men who harassed you at some point. It's not like he wanted you all for himself, but when he saw the look in your eyes when you'd open up to him about those moments, he'd feel something snap inside him. And just like that, those men went missing the next morning.

If you are a female, people would think you both were in a relationship and urge you both to get married. You both just ignored these comments because 1. you thought he didn't like you back, and 2. he didn't know if he liked you back either.

If you're a male, people would just think you were very good friends, which made Alastor even more confused about his feelings. You would also have even more reason to keep your feelings hidden since same-sex couples were heavily frowned upon back then.

Alastors confusion went on for years until he eventually died in 1933 and ended up in hell. After 2 years, you inevitably died as well, but those 2 years away from you made Alastor realize that he had grown romantic feelings for you. Because he'd never been away from you for so long, and he basically suffered withdrawal in his first 2 years in Hell, which tbh isn't uncommon.

When he found you in Hell after you'd been burned at the stake for being accused of witchcraft, he hugged you so tightly you thought you'd die a second time. He was also a bit shocked you were in Hell, but at that point he didn't really care.

Even after that, it would take him a while to pluck up the courage to ask you to be his, but eventually, he does. And now you both can be together in Hell for the rest of time.

For any of the AroAce people out there, plz tell me if I got anything wrong. I've heard from some other AroAce people that they can fall in love and even have sex but don't actively seek it out, so I used that knowledge to try and make a good guess on how Alastor would be like if he were to fall in love.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #lgbtq #hazbin hotel x reader

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sorcerersseestars · 4 months

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LIMERENCE (II)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

part i here

summary: Gojo is uncharacteristically insecure and unsure to the point of double guessing himself—something practically unheard of for the self-proclaimed Honored One. Meanwhile, the ever-feared blood-laden flowers make an unwelcome appearance.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: mentions of sickness and blood, descriptions of vomiting (caution to fellow ppl with emetophobia), characters are anxious and stressed!, cussing (obvs), use of (Y/N), kidnapping!

genre: hanahaki disease au, hurt/comfort, lowkey mystery?

a/n: Here is part 2 (finally lol)! It is a whole 6.7k words (😫) to make up for not updating until now haha. This chapter features serious!Gojo and worried!Gojo 😳. It seems out of character but it’s intentional (or so I claim). Also, I kinda make a pun out of Utahime’s name—hime (姫) means princess in Japanese! Two last notes: for clarification—I use italics to emphasize things, but also for characters’ thoughts. Geto is still alive (still excommunicated tho) in this timeline. More notes at the end of the chapter!

“Hey, ‘Hime, when’s your lunch break today?”

He hears a scoff that hardly conceals the crackly laugh that follows through his speakers. Her laugh is delicate and bright, even over the phone.

“Don’t call me that, Gojo. Never been into the princess thing.”

“We’ve been over this, it’s Satoru. And what should I call you then? Hime is perfect, it’s literally in your name.”

“I’ll call you Satoru if you call me by my real name: Utahime.”

“You’re so boringgg! Come on!” He whines, pretending to pout.

Utahime breathes in sharply at his words, “Satoru…you shouldn’t say things like that.”

Gojo stops walking. His brow creases in confusion: this is how he has always behaved, with obviously facetious and playful words. Even the people that claim they can’t stand him the most, like Shoko and Nanami, recognize when his words are intentionally over the top or ridiculous. Utahime also knows this: he has not concealed this aspect of his personality from her.

He can’t stop his next words from being spoken with a twinge of annoyance. “I was kidding, you know. Is something wrong?”

Utahime sighs, “No, no. Sorry, I’m just a bit stressed since the higher-ups asked for a meeting with me. Have no idea what it’s about…”

“They did? So, you’re not free for lunch? Please say you are…”

His words feel unnatural and stilted, but he brushes the feeling aside. He’s probably just nervous since it’s her, right?

“Yeah, I’m going to my meeting in a few, but I should be able to make it. Could you get the reservation for us?” Utahime asks, tone leaning on snippy.

“Mm, maybe. What’s the magic word?” He teases with a playful tone, trying to lighten her mood. This should work, it should make her feel better. He has experience with this.

“C’mon Gojo, not now,” She groans, apparently disgruntled. “But, fine, could you please make the reservation?”

He frowns. Not exactly the reaction he anticipated.

“Okay, but next time you gotta call me Satoru,” He says with a small awkward chuckle, this time easing up a bit on his teasing tone. “I’ll let you off the hook this time, though.”

“Sure,” She snorts, but not in the way that she would if she thought it was funny. It’s a sardonic snort, rather, and he would bet money that her eyes are rolling.

A loud click signals the end of conversation, but his phone remains pressed to his ear. He lowers it slowly, a strange feeling swirling in his chest. It’s an uneasy, heavy feeling from deep down, but he can’t discern what exactly it means.

“Why would I expect that to work?” He mutters to himself. “That’s so annoying, who would tolerate that?”

Suddenly, an image flashes under his eyelids, almost making him flinch at how intensely it conjures itself. A vivid apparition of you doubled over in laughter appears in his mind. It’s a memory, he realizes: you’re leaning on him as tears part from your eyes, unable to catch your breath due to how hard you’re laughing at one of his horrible, stupid jokes.

He remembers this moment well. You had been crying for real before—quietly sniffling, trying to hide it from him. He knew that you hated crying in front of others—trying to always appear strong, he knew this feeling well—so he started direct attention away from it with the corniest jokes he could make. That’s when your tears, first full of the hurt that he could clearly see in your crumpled expression, turned into ones of relief and joy. Your eyes had sparkled with some other emotion he couldn’t identify—something familiar, something that made him feel warm in the chest, but also made him feel so, so scared.

He never did figure out what it was. Or, rather, he has tried not to dwell on it. Every time it pops into his head, he pushes it down, the fear rising in him each time he comes closer to the answer.

Utahime never made him feel like that. That must be better. He never feels scared like that when he thinks of his feelings for her. That must be better, it has to be.

He enjoys talking to Utahime. He likes that he can get under her skin with little effort, likes how easily he can get a rise out of her: and most of the time, she’s amused by it, giggling and slapping his arm. He’s never scared with Utahime, but…why does something feel wrong?

His fingers, typing in his name for the reservation, pause and begin to tremble when he sees what he typed. He typed your name. His eyes widen beneath his blindfold—he’s grateful it helps to conceal his expression, even if nobody he knows is around. In truth, this is partly why he seldom removes it; he masks his true emotions more often than not. Not that anyone suspects it, though, too convinced by his saccharine smiles and forever jocular personality.

The blue horizontal line blinks in and out of existence as his fingers hover over his keyboard. Your name, though written in normal text, appears bolded to him: it sucks his attention away from anything else on his screen. He begins to break out in a sweat.

Sweating just from their name? How pathetic…

He shakes his head, frantically backspacing, trying to erase all traces of you from his mind. He’s been trying to do this for months, ever since he began to distance himself from you. There is a legitimate reason he has been giving you the cold shoulder, but it feels like an excuse to drive away this fear that grips him when he thinks of that warmth, that sparkle in your eyes.

Fuck. Now he can’t get that image of you out of his mind—his chest aches, his breathing comes quicker, but he does not know why.

He walks almost endlessly in the town he booked the restaurant in, in a pace-like fashion. His large stature and height make the brisk pace he walks at look absurdly hurried to passerbys: they stare at him unabashedly and he barely notices.

It’s only when he checks his phone that he realizes how much time has passed since he called Utahime. His reservation is soon: he will be late if he doesn’t start walking there now. Shit.

His breath comes heavy when he finally reaches the restaurant. It’s a casual yet nice ramen place—something familiar yet suitable for a lunch date. He’s wearing a baby blue button down shirt, nice slacks, and trades in his blindfold for heavily shaded sunglasses: also suitable for a lunch date.

A date. Yes, that’s what he’s on. A nice lunch date with a girl whom he kissed before the first date. A bit untraditional, not that he would be one to mind.

He approaches the hostess, about to ask for a table for two, but then he spots a familiar red ribbon perfectly adorning the dark strands of hair she always pulls back. She’s already here, sitting alone in the corner.

Gojo sighs. Fuck, ‘messed up again.

He hurriedly stumbles over to Utahime, probably looking a bit disheveled. She gives him a questioning glance at his appearance—Gojo laughs and immediately plasters on an easy smile.

“Hey,” He says nonchalantly, slowly lowering himself into the chair opposite her.

“Hey. You’re late,” She notes, but she doesn’t sound as bothered as he thought she would. “Did something happen? You look…like something happened.”

He goes along with it, sighing dramatically, “How’d you know? Yeah, Yaga was bothering me about some mission stuff. Dumb paperwork I’m supposed to do and whatever.”

She smiles, but it’s tight lipped, “Of course. But that doesn’t explain why you’re all sweaty.”

“I am?” He questions, feigning confusion, but his next words are partly true. “Ah, well, I realized I was gonna be late since he was pestering me so much. Guess I walked too fast.”

“Hmm,” Is all she says. She stirs the tea in front of her with a small spoon, expression blank as she does so.

Once he realizes she isn’t going to initiate talking further, he takes it upon himself, “How did the meeting go?”

She stops stirring. She sets down the spoon more harshly than she means to: it clangs loudly on the tea tray.

“I have some questions,” She says seriously.

“Questions? About what?” He asks.

Her dark, stormy eyes meet his. “…About you.”

He gulps, “Sure! What type of questions? You know, people ask me a lot of stuff. I’m sure I can handle anything.”

He winks at her, his usual smirk spreading across his face. Maybe if he jokes he can diffuse this god-awful tension. Not that it worked before, but he can try.

Utahime blinks slowly, exhaling deeply, as if attempting to calm herself down. He can see the fire in her eyes between blinks.

“How about that the higher-ups were asking me about my relation to you, when they believed you to only show interest in someone else?”

No. They can’t still believe that.

Terror strikes Gojo’s heart, electrifying his nerves, but he tries to play it off. He breathes out a chuckle and a few weak words, “That wasn’t a question.”

“For once in your life, be serious! We’ve only been dating for 3 weeks and I–” She inhales deeply. “I don’t think it’s a good sign that you’re intentionally avoiding answering me about this.”

“I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re talking about. Who did they even ask about? I can’t think of anyone they could say that about.” He’s lying through his teeth. Alarm bells are ringing through his head, and he dreads her answer.

She narrows her eyes, but seems convinced enough at his alleged cluelessness.

“They were asking about (Y/N). Asking about…your relationship with them. About how close you are. Asking if it’s changed.”

Gojo takes a sip from his glass, avoiding her eyes.“Well, did they say why? Seems awfully strange to ask you about it.”

She’s silent for a few seconds, mulling over her next words. They end up making Gojo bristle. “Satoru, you know I couldn’t tell you even if they did.”

His tone is abruptly serious. “The hell does that mean?”

She blinks at him slowly, with anger flashing in her dark eyes. “Gakuganji is very involved with them. If I told you, it would definitely get back to him. Who knows how he would punish me.”

"So you'd rather possibly endanger (Y/N)?" Gojo scoffs.

“Who said anything about danger?” Utahime says lowly, suspicion clear in her voice.

“Well, when the higher ups ask questions about my life, it usually isn’t just for fun,” Gojo says with a shrewd smile. “I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking so I can only assume the worst.”

“Does this really matter right now? (Y/N) is capable enough if it does turn out like that, and besides, I sorted it all out. Told them that your ‘relationship’ is fine and dandy and yada yada.”

Gojo sucks in a breath, nerves beginning to turn in his stomach. No. No! That’s not what I wanted…

Utahime doesn’t seem to notice his discomfort and continues, “You two have always been close…didn’t you have a thing for each other in high school? They have always had these eyes for you.”

Her tone is strange, gushing and gossipy yet also jealous.

“What?” Gojo says more loudly than intended as he takes in all of the information Utahime just casually dropped.

“You know, I even told them that you two were meant to be together,” She chuckles. “Funny how things work out—or, rather, don’t work out.”

Gojo’s stomach twists painfully at her insinuation—even though it shouldn’t. He likes Utahime, he’s with Utahime. Not with you. He’s not with you, he has never been with you.

“Gojo,” Utahime says suddenly. He blinks rapidly in surprise, eyes finally landing on hers. “Can we agree to be honest with each other?”

“Of course. What do you mean?” He says easily, nervously.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” She shakes her head. “You’re deflecting at every question I ask. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Gojo lets himself sigh this time.

He studies her expression. She’s beautiful, he has to admit. She’s beautiful, but she’s not you.

“Utahime…what is this all about?” He asks slowly.

“I should be asking you that,” She counters. “Why did you ask me out if you won’t actively participate in our relationship?”

“What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I?” Gojo responds carefully.

“But you mind isn’t,” Utahime sighs. “You’re miles away, Satoru. You always are. When you’re with me, you’re not thinking of me, are you?”

The question is so accurate that it seems rhetorical to Gojo, to the point of him not responding for many moments before he realizes she is genuinely asking him.

It’s so true and yet he physically cannot bring himself to admit to it. “I mean, I think about the higher-ups and work related stuff a lot. I’m sorry I haven’t been that present on dates and stuff, but–”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Gojo!” Utahime hisses out, tone bordering on venomous. “You’re always thinking about them. You make decisions thinking of them. I bet even when you kiss me, you think about them. Are you going to deny that?”

“Utahime…” He says softly, guilt constricting his vocal chords.

“I don’t understand you, Gojo. You asked me out and have taken me on fancy dates as if you want a committed relationship, but then your mind is always wandering away. I know that you still care for them, but then I heard from Shoko that you’ve been ignoring them for months. And then the fucking higher-ups ask me your relationship with them. Why would they ask me that and why would they even care? Something isn’t adding up. What’s really going on here?”

Gojo blinks in surprise at the depth of concern in her voice. It’s like she has already moved on from her jealousy towards you, and now is worried for you.

He must look surprised, because she adds on, “Just so you know, I’m not that sad. You’re kind of a shithead for doing this to me, but this wasn’t that serious for me. Obviously not for you, either.”

Gojo winces. Everything she has said so far has been true, but he wishes it wasn’t.

“Iori, I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t even realize that…that I was doing that,” Gojo sighs. “And to answer your question—I didn’t want to tell anyone, but I think I owe it to you. I don’t know what’s going on either, and that’s what scares me. I have no idea what they want or what they’re plotting, but it can’t be anything good.”

Utahime sits there with a small smirk on her face. When he raises an eyebrow at her expression, she just chuckles and shakes her head. “You can’t even say their name. Just how much denial are you in?”

He can’t even answer. He just sits there, a hand brushing his cheeks in order the cover the warmth the rises at the mention of the depth of his denial concerning his feelings for you.

When she realizes he isn’t going to answer, Utahime rises out of her seat. “Well, I guess I can say I’m officially breaking up with you, not that you or I really care. Just…if you need help with this, just know I’m in your corner, yeah? Unless it’s something to do with Gakuganji, and in that case my hands would be tied. Otherwise, just ask. You know, I wasn’t joking when I said I rooted for you guys in high school. That’s a fact and I can’t deny it.

You should really figure this out—for their sake. It sounds like they’re not having the best time with it. And besides, as much as it pains me to say it, you owe it to yourself after fighting against whatever feelings you have had for them for so many years.”

He doesn’t interrupt her even once, instead quietly absorbing her advice. He fidgets at the mention of his feelings for you, still uncomfortable even at the thought of them. Still scared.

“Goodbye for now, Satoru. I hope you figure all this shit out. Have a nice lunch,” She says coldly as she readies her things. Her coldness stings a bit, but what else could he expect?

“Oh, one last thing,” Utahime pauses. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me this, but I guess you’re too in over to head right now to think straight. I think I might know partly why they have taken an interest in (Y/N).”

Gojo’s gaze turns to her sharply, blue eyes bright with curiosity behind his shades. “Why? How do you know?”

“I think the higher-ups must have asked Yaga about them. I forgot until now, but they were asking me if I knew anything about (Y/N)‘s identity. And who would know better than anyone? Your nosey principal who digs deep on everyone,” She rolls her eyes, huffing out a small but humorless laugh. “Well, that should be it then. Bye, ex-boyfriend.”

She gives him one last look, then struts away with her head held high. He sincerely hopes she isn’t hurting too much, despite her very “okay with it” façade.

So it has to do with your identity? In Satoru’s view, you have somewhat of an average identity for a sorcerer. A grade one sorcerer who comes from a sorcerer family. You had not inherited your clan’s special innate technique, but you are still pretty strong regardless. There’s nothing unusual about your background, or at least to the best of his knowledge.

And yet this sickening feeling has begun to creep into his stomach, that feeling that something is horribly wrong. What he does not know is what he cannot control, and each heartbeat and breath of his feels tortured with the knowledge that you may not be safe.

Shoko won’t stop texting you, almost on the hour, despite your radio silence. It’s strange when you think about it—she has always hated texting, always grumbling that it’s going to give her carpal tunnel someday. And yet here she is, blowing up your phone with notifications.

You haven’t been to school in weeks, taking mission after mission instead. It’s very obvious that you’ve been avoiding Shoko and Gojo, but you won’t admit that.

The missions have been grueling and gruesome—your stomach turns when the curses you exorcised spring to mind. They were ghastly and frankly were some of the most mentally scarring curses you’ve encountered. So, you’ve decided to take a break.

You feel your skin crawl when you’re sitting at home doing nothing—the curses come to mind much more easily, and also thoughts of him—so you abandon being cozy for the sake of your mind. It’s cold outside, so cold that your breath greets you in a cloud with every puff of air you release. Winter has arrived, and it nips at your cheeks and numbs your extremities just to remind you.

You haven’t been coping well, and you know it. Avoiding thoughts of Gojo has not been working very well, even after physically avoiding him. You try to forget what you heard that day, but it won’t escape your mind no matter how much you distract yourself. You think of Utahime: her beauty, her quiet strength, of how she always seems so calm and collected and yet somehow always makes her voice heard. She has everything that you lack.

The skin of your face burns with envy when you think about her. And when you picture her with Gojo—her dark eyes looking into his pooling blue depths, her leaning forward and up to kiss him—your chest crumbles in on itself.

It hurts. Right now, everything surrounding Gojo Satoru hurts.

But today, you will change that. This will definitely help. You’ve taken yourself out of your apartment and straight into a place that has always lifted your spirits—the local florist.

You scour the aisles, wincing at the very romantic red roses and the bright yellow daffodils. But then something catches your eye: an array of festive bouquets.

You end up picking out a bouquet fit for the season: it features a string of cranberries, enveloped by branches of pine and pinecones, with a striped garland draped around it all. Despite all of your poisonous feelings inside, you crack a small smile at the sight.

You take it home, putting care into the beautiful and yet flowerless bouquet. You carefully mix the plant food into a vase full of cool water, cut the ends of the stems under running water, then submerge the bouquet.

It brings a sense of homeliness that you’ve been desperately missing ever since you’ve starting living on your own. It almost soothes the ache in your chest.

But, as always, reality swoops in to remind you that you cannot run from your feelings within. Within only minutes of arranging the new bouquet, you accidentally swipe at the vase. It crashes to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere, glinting beautifully as it spins through the air. The cranberries begin to bleed into the water, the impact too much for them to tolerate.

You bend down, slowly processing the collision. When you stare into the expanding pool of water, you see wild eyes brimming with pain. Brimming with heartache. It is then that you are painfully reminded what cranberries represent: a cure for heartache.

The irony is not lost on you. You begin to howl in laughter, and the voice that reverberates back to you sounds crazed.

Then, it begins. You abruptly stop breathing; you are choked, silenced, almost as if something is blocking your airway. And then your throat begins to convulse, an instinctual reaction to choking, and you have no choice but to obey your body. You stumble through the shards of glass and collapse at the foot of your toilet. You heave and heave—whatever is lodged in your throat is large, making it difficult and painful to retch up.

When you finally use enough force to hack up the offending object, you freeze at the sight in front of you. Vibrant hydrangeas the same color as his eyes float in a murky red cloud. Blue hydrangeas: a symbol of rejection and regret.

Your chest bursts in pain at the realization. You are in love with Gojo Satoru, and he doesn’t love you back.

You feel another bloom emerging from within. You shudder in fear, knowing that you have little time left. Once the flowers present themselves, death is almost always imminent.

You spend the next few hours by the toilet, conjuring a newer, more painful bouquet than the one that lays in shattered remains in your living room.

“You told them what?” Gojo exhales deeply, a sigh following his exasperated words. He pinches the bridge of his nose—a gesture uncharacteristic for someone as self-assured as him.

“That (Y/N) is important to you,” Yaga Masamichi states calmly. “Satoru, there is no reason to fret. Their intentions concerning this matter are pure.”

“Do you even hear yourself right now? The higher-ups intentions are anything but pure.”

“I can sense that you are agitated,” He observes, eyebrows beginning to furrow. “But you are blinded by your bias. They first and foremost protect our community. (Y/N) is of no threat to Jujutsu society, thus they should be in no danger.”

“You don’t understand,” Gojo shakes his head. He is clearly angry, but now his nerves are showing through more: his voice is uneven and his tone has an air of desperation. “The higher-ups are out to get them. I don’t have any answers for that, even though I’ve been searching for months. I’ve had to show indifference towards (Y/N) to convince them that there is nothing between us, and it was starting to work. Why did you tell them this without consulting me first?”

A frown etches Masamichi’s stony features. Behind his shaded glasses, his eyes rake over his former student, taking in his state. Gojo isn’t one to openly show fear or anxiety, yet his breathing is audibly shaky and his fingers twitch by his side.

“I see I have made a mistake,” Masamichi concedes. “But why are you so convinced the higher-ups have ill intentions toward them?”

Gojo begins to pace back and forth in front of Yaga’s desk—also very unlike him.

“They called me to meet them a few months ago, asking what my relationship with (Y/N) is. I brushed it off at first and basically told them to stop sticking their nose into my business, but then I started to notice something.”

Gojo pauses by a window. The light streams down onto his face, illuminating his rather uncommonly stoic portrait.

“They started assigning (Y/N) missions that were labeled as second or first grade, but actually turned out to be special grade. And it can’t be coincidental—the incident rate of this happening is much higher for (Y/N)’s assignments than any other person.”

“That does seem to be true,” Masamichi comments, thinking back to reports he’s reviewed.

“No, not seem,” Gojo snaps. “That is the reality of this situation. Ever since I realized that, I’ve acted coldly towards (Y/N), distancing myself as much as possible. And guess what? No more special grade missions. Less injuries. And—”

“Satoru!” Masamichi raises his voice, pulling Gojo out of his frantic spiel. He blinks in surprise; he didn’t even realize how much or how fast he has been speaking.

“I don’t know what they are thinking or planning, but stressing like this will not help the situation. This is our world; this is how they operate,” Masamichi says, leaning forward and resting his chin on steepled fingers. “We will find a way around this.”

“It shouldn’t be like this,” Gojo says, voice rumbling deep and low, dangerously quiet.

“They are resistant to change,” Masamichi counters. “We can’t directly influence their decisions.”

“Not if they can’t make them anymore,” Satoru snorts, a dark and bitter smirk curling his lips.

“That is completely out of the question,” Yaga says firmly in a warning tone.

“Their thinking is antiquated,” Gojo argues. “I think we need a complete refresh.”

“And yours is too radical and rash. No, Gojo. I will not even entertain your idea.” Yaga says with a note of finality.

“Won’t you let me have my fun?” Gojo sighs, exaggerating his disappointment. “You’re such a drag, old man.”

Yaga almost smiles. He’s back to his normal antics.

“So, there is nothing that you can think of that would cause the higher-ups to go after them like this? I know you looked into all of your students closely even before you became principal. You must know something.”

Yaga frowns. You were his student and, as Gojo claims, he did thoroughly look into your background. But—how can you truly be thorough when the information presented is so little?

“There was little to nothing on them,” Yaga says. “Even when I tried digging further, I didn’t find much. However…there are rumors that they have made a Binding Vow.”

“A Binding Vow?” Gojo echoes back. “That’s very vague. That can mean practically anything.”

“But it’s still interesting, is it not?” Yaga says with a wry smile. “If the higher-ups have heard, we can only assume that the Binding Vow is with another entity, not with themselves. Otherwise, why would they be interested? That is assuming this is true, of course.”

“Who did you hear this from?” Gojo asks. “Someone credible?”

“I’m not sure about their credibility. And you can’t really go out and interrogate them, even if you wanted to. If you did, there would be another expectation for your visit.”

Gojo grows suspicious from his obvious attempt at a non-answer, “Yaga, who?”

He sighs, “Geto Suguru.”

There’s silence. Then, Gojo cackles—it’s a bitter and sardonic laugh, slightly crazed as well—and shakes his head.

“Of course. Of course it was from him,” Gojo continues laughing, a hand covering his face this time. “Guess you’re right—there’s no avenue for conversation there. In that case, I’ve gotta go. See ya, old man.”

Yaga bristles at the nickname, but does not attempt chastise Gojo as he walks away without waiting for Yaga’s response. It simply doesn’t work, so why waste his breath?

Gojo walks out, digging his cell phone out of his pocket. He opens his text conversation with you, fingers twitching over the keyboard. But what would he even say? The last texts are all from you, scattered over a few weeks from literal months ago. He didn’t respond to any of them. He feels the need to contact you, but how would he even start that? ‘Hey, I know I’ve been ignoring you for months, but I heard that you might have told Geto that you made a Binding Vow and I think the higher-ups know about it.’

Nope. That’s not gonna work. He swipes the texting app out of existence, then locks his phone and puts it back in his pocket.

He leans back on the pillar, resting his head while he closes his eyes. Why does everything surrounding you have to be so complicated? Then, a series of hurried footsteps meets his ears, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is. Gojo is ambushed by someone he hasn’t seen for a few days—your mutual friend, Shoko.

“I heard what happened from Utahime,” She says immediately.

Gojo exhales loudly, not even trying to conceal his annoyance, “Shoko, I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“No. Tell me what’s going on.” She says firmly, her tone hard.

“What? We broke up. What’s more to say?” Gojo says dismissively.

“No, Gojo. That’s not all there is. Things have been going on. She told me that she’s concerned for (Y/N) but wouldn’t tell me more. And it just so happens that I have been texting them just about every day for weeks and have heard nothing back. Tell me there’s ‘nothing more to say’ again! Because obviously something is going on.”

Gojo inhales sharply, his breath suspended at her words. He shifts his weight forward, finally leaning away from the pillar. Shoko takes notice of his surprise.

She sighs, deciding to clarify one detail, “They’ve still been taking missions so I assume that they’re fine…but they’ve never ghosted me like this. Even back then, when Geto…they didn’t…agh. Well, you know what I’m saying. I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

He only really gathered one thing from that. So you’re safe for now. Gojo recovers, his expression evening out into something more normal.

“Shoko, I don’t want to complicate things further,” Gojo sighs. “Too many people are already involved in this, ones I had no intention of involving. I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“You ass!” She shouts at him, making his eyes widen under his blindfold. Shoko never blows up like this—she’s always indifferent and sort of passive. “They’re my friend too, and I want to know what’s going on!”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” Gojo blurts out. Shoko blinks rapidly, shocked by the volume of his voice. He hates getting emotional like this, but he can’t help it when he’s so fucking worried. “I don’t know, Shoko. The higher-ups have been probing into my life, but this time– this time it’s about them, and I don’t know why they want to know. I don’t know what they’re looking for. I’m just praying every day that they stop, but then somebody else in our circle tells me that the higher-ups keep mentioning them. I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t be good.”

She looks at him, finally noticing how…un-Gojo-like he looks and sounds. Worrying about others isn’t something that Gojo does, or at least not something he ever speaks about. He never has his brow creased like he does right now. He doesn’t bite his lip in worry, either, so why is he biting down so hard he’s almost pulling blood?

“Okay,” Shoko yields. “Okay. I believe you. I didn’t realize…I didn’t believe that you still cared so much.”

“You don’t even know,” He mutters under his breath, but Shoko still hears it. She acts like she doesn’t.

“Well, if you hear anything, tell me, okay?” Shoko asks him with a low exhale. “They’re really stressing me out.”

She pulls out a lighter and a cigarette, prepared to light up. The blinks, and the cigarette now lays on the ground, mysteriously absent from her grip.

“Fuck you,” She grumbles. “You know, that’s littering.”

She hates to say it, but her chest, heavy with worry, lightens a bit as his regular smirk spreads across his face. She feels a bit more hopeful as Gojo disappears in front of her, the wind from the teleportation blowing her hair and lab coat around furiously.

“If only you two weren’t idiots, this mess might have solved itself ages ago,” She chuckles to herself. “The densest people I know.”

Your lungs ache. You wheeze with each breath. You blink blearily, rubbing your eyes with one hand. You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep while you’ve been laying on the cold tile in your bathroom. The air is tinged with iron—the smell of your own blood curdles your stomach.

“What time is it?” You mutter to yourself, and jolt at the sound of your own voice. It’s raspy and weak; you almost don’t recognize it as being your own.

Your hands skate across the smooth tile as you try to locate your phone. When you finally do, you grab it and bring it close to your face. Your eyes, barely cracked open, ache at the bright light of your screen.

The time reads as 3:31 AM. You’ve really been here for that long? Under the time, a plethora of texts from Shoko appear. You groan and slam your phone back down on the ground, ignoring the guilt that rises from how long you’ve been flat out ignoring your friend.

I’m being just like Gojo. Your lips curl down at the realization.

You feel a wave of weakness wash over you, and you are forced to lay back down on the ground. You are half conscious, vision swimming half through dream and half through reality. You can barely think, barely process your own actions.

You feel cold metal in your hands, smooth glass under your fingers. You are tapping randomly, the light blinding you so much that you can’t open your eyes to see what exactly you’re doing.

All you hear is your own horrible breath. And then you hear a voice.

“(Y/N)? You called me?”

You blink blankly in confusion. Did you? You can only assume that you did.

“‘Guess so,” You try to say, but you can barely get it out with how sore your throat is. “Who…who is it?”

“What do you mean? You called me, silly.” They say with a small chuckle. “It’s like 3 am. Are you drunk or something?”

Why can’t you recognize their voice? Their voice sounds underwater to you. Your head is spinning so much and your ears begin to ring. Your feel yourself slipping from reality.

You hear yourself saying words, but you don’t remember thinking them.

“No…gonna pass out. Or die. Can’t tell.”

“What? (Y/N), what’s going on? Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you right now.”

You swear you know that voice. It’s deep and smooth, but filled with so much worry that you barely recognize it. He’s never sounded this scared before.

“Oh, you’re…you’re Satoru,” You wheeze out. “Why? Why you?”

You’re not making much sense, you don’t think. But you can’t, not with how far from reality you are right now.

You called him? It’s just too painful, too cruel a fate, that you accidentally called the man you’re in love with and who doesn’t love you back while you’re knocking on death’s door. You cough violently and choke on the bloody petals that rise to your throat. You wince in pain and struggle to breathe.

He is bordering on panic now, but he fights to keep it out of his voice. “It’s okay, (Y/N), just tell me where you are. You’re on a mission, r-right? I’ll come get you. Just hold on.”

Confusion floods your brain. A mission? Are you on a mission? Is that why the scent of blood is clogging your nose?

Your heart beat pounds in your head, faster and faster. It’s scary just how confused you are—how do you not know where you are?

“I don’t know,” You choke out. You didn’t even realize you were crying. “I don’t know where I am.”

“It’s okay, c-can you check your phone for me? It’ll tell you your location. Just open it and–” His breathing is fast. “And check in your maps. Please. Please (Y/N), I need you to do this for me. Then–then everything will be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” You answer softly. “How do–”

You startle at the sound of a loud bang, your own gasp cutting off your words.

The door to your bathroom—that’s where you are—is knocked down, nearly missing your form where you lay on the tile.

Satoru is calling your name desperately, his voice louder with each repetition of your name. You can’t decipher any other words, but you know he’s shouting things, trying to get you to say something, to say anything so that he knows you’re okay.

A dark shape towers over you. You can’t make out who it is with your blurry vision and with how dark it is—but you are immediately intimidated by their large, broad frame.

“There you are,” They snarl. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this to happen. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

You scramble to get up, grabbing your phone while you unsteadily rise on your shaky legs. You are an inch away from passing out and you fight the feeling with every ounce of your strength.

“Not looking too good, are we?” He says, tutting mockingly. “That’s perfect. Remember what we agreed on, my dear (Y/N)?”

You stare at him blankly, no recognition in your eyes.

“Silly me! Of course you don’t remember. That was intentional, you know. A good move on my part,” He chuckles, and it’s a soft sound that juxtaposes his words. “While you’re the one who has to suffer. Don’t blame me too much, though…this is all situational. It’s not like I ever disliked you or anything. It just has to be like this.”

You hear Satoru’s voice again, and this time it sounds dangerous, “Who the fuck is that?”

Anger runs through the man’s features, and he strikes the hand that carries your phone harshly. You yelp loudly both in surprise and in pain. Your phone clatters to the ground, instantly silenced. Probably broken beyond repair.

His words are chastising and almost playful, but he is furious. “You shouldn’t talk to him anymore, (Y/N). That’s not part of our agreement.”

Then he grabs hold of you and begins dragging you out of the room. You scream loudly, kicking and punching him as much as you can as you’re moved against your will. You are a strong sorcerer, but all of your cursed energy and strength has been sapped away by this horrible disease that afflicts you. You are powerless to stop this man.

There’s one thing you were mistaken about. With the crunch your phone made as it shattered against the ground, you assumed it was completely broken. That’s only partly true: the speakers were damaged, no sound coming out, but your phone actually survived. Your microphone continued to pick up every scream and cry you made as you were dragged against your will—kidnapped. He heard every whimper of pain and every plea of yours for the man to stop! and to let you go!

Even in this state, your heart would ache if you had heard the unadulterated fear that gripped his voice as he shouted and screamed for you through his phone.

Even if you didn’t recognize the man who manhandled you out of your apartment, Gojo Satoru has no doubts about who it was. It makes his blood boil thinking about it—he’s never going to forgive him for this, even if they used to be best friends.

a/n 2: Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot!! This got a bit out of my hands, I will admit…I ended up writing some details I hadn’t planned on (and a lot more lol) 😅 But I think it actually makes it more interesting!

TAGLIST: @certainduckanchor @kawaiivillainess98 @arehzhera @starrylibras @mandysfanfics @rain-and-a-nice-nap @csillana @sup-hoes-its-me @llliissuu @hawkdaddy1111 @unoriginalidea

@dcvilxswish @angel-kyo @eliz-lovesgojo @5268r @wooasecret @timetobegone @ceronnica @torusblindfold @mo0nforme @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @dasztasha

@soapysofi @qualitygiantshoepsychic

Some of these tags didn’t work, but I hope it still tags you…Lmk if I typed anything in wrong haha. 😌

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo behavior #jjk fanfic #gn!reader #Gojo is kinda smart but also an idiot at the same time #gojo hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #angst

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pinkbunny268 · 2 months

Note

Hi!

Could I request Lucifer x angel! F! Reader?

Reader died and went to heaven, but is very curious about hell, so she sneaks out every now and again to hell to explore it. Reader makes herself look like a sinner, and visits hotel regularly since she knows its a safe place, also wants to support charlie and the idea of redemption. So she meets Lucifer there and is fascinated with him, since he isn't at all what he was described at both in heaven and on earth.

And during the hotel fight, she reveals herself while protecting the hotel as an angel and goes against adam

Omg !! Thank you so much for the request ! Absolutely, I love this idea so much <333 I took the time to set the scene so it’ll be a bit until you actually meet Luci !! Also don’t be afraid to request anything either <333

To be honest, I didn’t think I’d end up in heaven. In my eyes, I don’t think I did anything ‘heaven worthy’ I can’t remember how or why I died but when I opened my eyes I was immediately blinded by this bright light. I squint as I try to look around and see someone walking towards me. Their silhouette making me question my vision.

Wings and a halo? Oh boy, I’m actually dead.

The mystery guy revealed himself to be Adam. THE Adam. The first man. The first anything for that matter. And he’s… not what I thought he’d be. Hes proves himself to be very arrogant and cocky. As well as crude and brass. Not exactly what you think would be on the checklist of characteristics to have to get into heaven. But, clearly, God has favorites. Oh, and top of it he flirts constantly, calling me such honestly degrading nicknames.

“Alright, sugar tits, that’s it for the tour or whatever. Got a problem, you can call me~ I’ll make time for you when I can. Im a busy guy, y’know, being the first man an’ all.”

I fight back the urge to roll my eyes.

“Uh huh… I do have a question.” I reply, ignoring his obvious attempts at flirting.

“Don’t be shy, doll face, I can answer whatever question ya got! I am THE man.” He exclaims, chest puffed out and head held high.

“So… if we’re in heaven does that mean hell also exists?” He blinks at me.

“Dumb fucking question because obviously?” He scoffs, his posture slumped. My eyes sparkle at the thought. I may not be able to remember how I died, but I know that when I was still alive I had been fascinated with hell. Just the thought of different time periods of the world’s worst people all clumped in one place. Just imagine how chaotic that would be. And Lucifer. He’s the worst of them all.

As the weeks turned into months, I had gotten closer to Adam. To the point where I learned about the exterminations one night when Adam got drunk when he had stumbled to my home for comfort. Of course, I was sworn to secrecy.

Adam taught me the spell to cast to make a portal to hell and, of course in Adam fashion, we’d occasionally go down there and I’d watched as Adam would make fun of the sinners and hellborn that lived. I’d merely chuckle at his remarks but secretly I felt bad.

But id never tell Adam that.

So began my secret trips to hell alone. I’d tuck away my wings and halo and used body paint to make myself look like a sinner. Though I was contained in the pride ring I was content seeing hell this way.

I’d get a closer look at those who died and ended up here myself and I’d get to see the rest of hell with the protection of Adam.

During one of my lone visits I was walking around town when I found myself in a bit of a situation.

“Hello sweetheart~ wanna come back to my place and have some fun?” I had heard behind me and turned around to see a sinner backing someone else to a wall. The girl looked uncomfortable and didn’t chance a chance against the guy that had cornered her.

“No, I’m good.” She said shortly and went to leave. But the guy wasn’t having it as he grabbed her arm to pull her against him. My body acted before my mind could think and I found myself standing before the guy, fist clenched with blood on it as the man was on the ground. The girl had disappeared without a word. And I was suddenly hit with this Deja Vu feeling. Like, I’d been in this situation before.

Suddenly, I felt afraid. I went to go but the man I grabbed my ankle causing me to fall. I felt fear as I heard the man speak but I didn’t register what he said. All I knew was that I had to leave before I either got hurt or exposed.

As my very limited options raced through my mind, the man had let go. I looked over at him only to see two women standing in his place.

One was a blonde girl who had knelt down to my level, her eyes filled with concern as she gently placed a hand on top of mine.

“Are you ok?” She asked as she pulled me to my feet.

“We should go before that asshole comes back.” The other girl said, her voice low. The blonde girl looked to me her eyes pleading.

“Come with us, you’ll be save I promise.” I just nodded and allowed them both to lead me to what was a hotel. We entered and the blonde sat me on a couch. “Are you hurt? How’s your ankle? That man had quite the hold on you.”

“I’m fine…” I mumbled. “Thank you, by the way. For saving me.” The blonde smiled.

“Of course! I’m Charlie by the way and the other girl is my girlfriend, Vaggie. We saw how you rushed in to defend that girl. You were amazing!” She praised, stars in her eyes with a big smile. I give her a crooked one in return.

“Anyone would have done that I’m not-“

“No, they wouldn’t.” Vaggie interjected. “Not only because people down here suck but also because it’s not their business. Also, no one else was around. You’re lucky we were or else you could’ve ended up hurt.” Charlie let out a nervous chuckle.

“What she means is you were super brave but should be careful… people aren’t as nice as you.” She gives me a soft smile before getting up and walking over to Vaggie and drags her to a different room. They spoke in hushed whispers before I hear Vaggie sigh and Charlie let out an excited squeal. She races back to me and with a big smile asks me, “How do you feel about sinners being redeemed? Do you think it’s possible?”

“Um… possibly? I mean, if there’s any as nice as you two then I do.”

And that’s where it truly started. I had met the rest of the people who lived in that hotel and I can honestly say they are some of the best people I’ve met. Some were a bit odd like their housekeeper Nifty. But she’s a cutie. They acted nothing like how those made as sinners were supposed to. And him.

Lucifer.

He puzzled me most of all. When I had heard that he was coming to the hotel to possibly help out I felt frightened. He was a fallen Angel, there’s no way he wouldn’t be able to sniff me out. And on top of that, it’s Lucifer! Ruler of Hell which holds all of Earths worst people! But again, like the others he wasn’t what I was told he was like at all.

Adam had described him as “The absolute fucking worst!” Though, I’d say Adam’s a little biased, for good reason, but still.

I found him to be sweet and a little awkward. He was easy to talk to as he made an effort to get to know not only Charlie, which I found out was his daughter, but also the rest of us. And I found myself enjoying his company. Any time I had to go back to Heaven I felt sad. I missed everyone at the hotel. I missed him. Everytime I was at the hotel I was practically glued to Lucifer’s side. I found him so fascinating. He was nothing like I had imagined.

As you can expect, we had gotten close as the Extermination date was drawing near and I was happy yet scared for what was to come. Adam’s fucking attitude towards it all made it hard to keep quiet but I somehow found the patience.

Lucifer even showed me around the Pride Ring and all that it had to offer in terms of fun one day. Just the two of us… alone.

“You know… you’re a lot of fun.” He said randomly as we walked back to the hotel.

“Oh, yeah?” I said with a nervous tone. “Thanks…”

“You’re not like the other sinners…” He replied in a deep tone before his eyes widen. “I-I mean that, you’re like, uh pretty cool! Very nice! Good person to hang around!” He says quickly with a nervous chuckle, he cheeks redder than usual.

“Oh, um, thank you, sir. You’re pretty cool yourself…” with an awkward smile, I playfully punch his shoulder. As I’m retracting my hand, he grabs my wrist and keeps it close to him. His sudden grip on my wrist brings me down to his level.

“Please… don’t call me sir. Just call me Lucifer.” He says breathlessly, as if he’s begging for me to refer to him as Lucifer, not just a request. His cheeks were slightly pink and he looked at me through half-lidded eyes. He looked so soft.

And here I thought I couldn’t get anymore fascinated with him. I could replay that moment forever… well, until an annoying voice ruined it and pulled me out of the fond memory.

“All right bitches! Time to fuck shit up!” Adam yelled as the portal to hell opened and they all dove in. Spears, battle axes and whatever else they used to kill those souls in hand. Before it had closed I rushed in and flew straight to the hotel, not that I had to go far since the portal was opened beside the hotel.

I quickly flew down near some rubble to hide and watched as the Angels attacked before a barrier was put up around the hotel. I could hear Adam screaming at (presumably) Lute that he obviously can’t see the giant fucking forcefield in front of them, which made me chuckle.

I stayed hidden for the majority of the fight, as I wasn’t equipped to really do anything and I was afraid to get in the way. At some point, the barrier had been taken down by Adam. However, when I saw Adam pick Charlie up by her throat I knew I had to act.

Taking off my disguise and letting my wing’s stretch as well as allowing my halo to show itself once more, I fly over to Adam and Charlie and snatch Charlie from Adam’s grasp. I fly her a good enough distance from Adam, still in the air and in my arms.

“Y/n..? You’re an.. angel?” Charlie says in awe, her eyes wide. I give her a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to-“

“You fucking traitor!” Adam yells as he collects himself. “Fuckers like you aren’t ever allowed back into heaven you fucking bitch!” He declares as he flies back up and heads straight at us, his axe gripped tight in his hand.

My eyes widen in surprise and fear as turn my body, shielding Charlie with my body as i prepare for impact. But it never came. Instead, I hear Adam struggle before turning my head, Charlie still in my arms as I watch Lucifer throw Adam into the sign on top of the building.

“Dad!” Charlie yells as Lucifer flies down closer to us. He smiles at Charlie.

“Sorry I was late, sweetie.” His eyes flicker up to mine, a look of surprise and awe held in them as he stares at me. I feel myself blush slightly.

“Oh my… you’re…”

“An angel, I know I’m sorry-“

“Beautiful.” He finishes, eyes still staring at me with such a look of admiration I almost dropped Charlie. Out the corner of my eye I see Adam picking himself back up, half of his mask torn apart showing off his really face.

He goes on into a rant about how we should be worshipping him, he’s the first man, blah blah blah. Until a knife is plugged into his back and out of his stomach. He falls to the ground and Lute rushes to his aid, screaming his name.

My eyes tear up at the sight of Adam dying in Lutes arm. Lucifer gently grabs my hand and I quietly cry into his shoulder. After a few moments, he practically kicks the Exterminators out. Many of them hurt or wounded in some way and Lute grabs Adam’s halo and flies off, the portal closing behind them.

For the time being after that was spent rebuilding the hotel and mourning the loss of those who died. Once the hotel had been built I again found myself with Lucifer. We sat beside each other, his hand on top of mine. I looked at him, my eyes soft as I studied his face.

He was still as fascinating to me as when I first met him. And I’m so happy that I get to learn more about him now that I’m permanently staying in hell.

I hope you like this! It didn’t really go in the direction I wanted it to and I thought about rewriting it a few times but I think I turned out pretty alright! Forgive me if anything you wanted was left out, it’s been a while since I’ve done a request <333

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin fanfic #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #x reader #fluff #hazbin adam #hazbin lute #hazbin niffty #lucifer morningstar #requested #request

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thebitchesterbrothers · 1 month

Text

„Nobody leaves this room until we’ve found my ring!“

Oh, great. Ava needs to be at the other end of the campus for her next class in fifteen minutes.

„Is he serious right now? It’s not our fault he lost his stuff.“ Doug, one of the other students dramatically rolled his eyes.

„Oh come on, have some sympathy. It’s probably antique and ridiculously expensive. Just help him find it and we can all be on our way.“

Just five minutes ago Ava was listening to Professor Gadlings lecture about early modern drama when he noticed the lack of his ring. One of the braver students had once asked him about his kind of uncharacteristically flashy ring he was sporting on his left hand.

The professor was known on campus as a very down-to-earth guy, almost suspiciously normal. Wearing cozy and practical clothes he always gave off the impression of a perfect son-in-law. In Ava’s opinion there was still a kind of mysterious aura about him but she never managed to put it into words. Not too much was known about him despite his cheery and social behavior.

It all added to his attractiveness. If one was into middle aged history professors…so basically at least half of the class had a crush on Mister Gadling and Ava surely was a leading member of the unofficial Dr. Robert Gadling fan club. For academic purposes only, of course.

That particular ring however didn’t seem like something the man would buy for himself. It was gold, beautifully carved and had a massive ruby embedded in the center of it.

It was just a touch too flamboyant for their professor that there had to be a story behind it.

But all he would give them as an answer was a sly smile and a cryptic comment about „how Shakespeare would die of jealousy if he could see him now.“

Said ring was now missing. When Gadling noticed his bare finger all hell broke loose.

Running his hands frantically through his hair, pulling it into a tight ponytail only to undo it seconds later. Crawling under his cluttered desk and painfully bumping his head in the process.

For a minute or two it was admittedly funny to watch the man sweat but now Ava just felt sorry for him. If she’d own such an obviously expensive piece of jewellery she would freak out too. Maybe it was an old family heirloom of some kind. The man owned all kinds of weird historic stuff, that much was for sure.

And apparently now they all had to help him find it if they wanted to leave this room anytime today.

So this is how Ava finds herself now on the surprisingly clean floors of lecture hall number five, looking for a shiny piece of metal along with her classmates.

Gadling seems to slowly but surely drift off into panic mode, spurring them on while turning every pocket of his trousers inside out, his hair sticking in every direction like one of the cartoon characters from her childhood. A mad scientist indeed.

“It has to be in this room! Keep looking! I can’t go home without it…and believe me when I say we’re all going to have a terrible night of disturbing dreams if we don’t manage to find it!” What is that supposed to mean, please?

Just as he’s about to flip his desk - yes, the very heavy and very antique looking desk - an unfamiliar voice breaks the chaotic atmosphere.

“Are you looking for something specific, professor? You seem quite distressed.”

And if Mister Gadling appeared ‘distressed’ before he’s outright shocked now.

In front of the old oak door leading into freedom - Ava can’t wait to finally leave this madhouse - stands the most gorgeous and posh looking goth prince she’s ever seen. Damn, those cheekbones alone are to die for, but his voice…dark, soothing, absolutely mesmerizing. The man looks regal even in a place that is anything but. That long flowing coat is a bit much though.

“Oh. You. Are here.” What happened to her eloquent professor?

“Indeed I am, Hob.” Hob? What kind of nickname is that?

“I mean why? Why exactly are you here? It’s just that you never visited before.”

Ava crawls back from under her chair to not miss a minute of whatever the hell this is.

She swears that Gadling - Hob, she remembers - starts to blush like a shy school girl. Who is that man that makes her professor lose his cool?

Meanwhile the rest of the classroom stopped the search for the ring, instead staring without shame at the play in front of them.

“My duties prevented me from visiting one of your lectures. I apologize for that. But you missed something of great value this morning. I thought you might want it back.”

And with that emo king (Ava really needs to find out that man’s name) calmly walks towards her professor, completely unaffected by his nosy audience.

Once he reaches the other man he gently takes his hand, opens it … and places a ring into his palm. Not just any ring, no.

The ring that “definitely has to be in this room”, as Ava recalls professor Gadlings voice. So much for that.

The stranger looks clearly amused at mister Gadlings obvious embarrassment.

“You left it next to the sink after washing the dishes. Then you realized how late you were and forgot to put it back on. I had to stop Matthew from hiding it under his pillow.”

Did Gadling have a cat? That man would surely get a cat and name it Matthew.

Gadling looks as relieved as he looks stressed by now.

“Thank you. I may have overreacted a bit.”

More than a few students agree on that but are too smart to make a comment.

That dark dream of a man fondly tucks a strand of hair behind their professors ear and wow, what’s happening? Ava tries to be as silent as possible to not ruin this moment. Her friends will never believe her.

Apparently Gadling finally found his voice again.

“You came all this way just to…”

“To take your wedding ring where it belongs, husband.”

And with that he places an almost chaste kiss on the other man’s lips and abruptly turns around to leave the - absolutely stunned and silent - room. Everyone is openly staring at poor mister Gadling now. Ava is pretty sure she saw one of the younger students filming or at least taking a picture of the whole thing. She’ll have to ask for evidence.

“Okay listen. None of this ever happened. You saw and heard nothing. Thank you for your help. Goodbye.”

Gadling quickly dismisses his students and almost flees the lecture hall.

Days later Ava still isn’t sure she witnessed a very elaborate fever dream

#I just love to embarrass hob #and I know Matthew isn’t a magpie but the idea of him stealing shiny stuff from dream didn’t leave me alone #he’s a little shit and I love him #hob is also the hottest prof on campus and dream is fed up with all the students dreaming about marrying HIS husband #dream of the endless #the sandman #hob gadling #dreamling fanfic #dreamling #my 2 am writing

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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congrats on 1k, angel!!! 💙 so soo proud of you!

whew okay, so the way i debated between wayyy too many things for your celebration because options 😵‍💫 but we're goin with mirror sex and breath play, ily ty

Bea, I love you. Thank you so much for your kind words - I'm grateful to call you a friend! And thank you so much for your request - mirror sex and breath play with Joel Miller coming right up. I hope you love it - it's a little different to what I'd normally go for, so I'm nervous to share it, but here we go!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 2k

Warnings | Explicit. 18+, Minors DNI. So, obviously we have breath play and mirror sex, there's some dirty talk, soft!Joel, some body insecurity from reader too.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

You sigh as you take in your appearance in the bedroom mirror. There was no shying away from the fact that these past months in Jackson had changed your body. No longer scrounging for twenty-year-old cans of food or going days without eating just to make sure Ellie had enough. Here there was an abundance of everything. The warm stews from the mess hall, the fresh produce you cooked in your home, the barbecue food that would sometimes appear at The Tipsy Bison, it was all having an effect.

You’d tried to ignore the pinching of your waistband all day, had even popped the button at lunchtime and not bothered to do it back up until you have to walk back home, but as you lifted the hem of your shirt, Joel’s shirt, you could see the red lines the material had made on your skin. Doubt started to fill your mind. He’d stuck around through thick and thin with you, been there on your darkest days, and you on his, had seen your body go through far more than gaining a little weight, and still never left, but this place was different.

You couldn’t help but think about all the women here, captivated by the broad, mysterious new man who kept to himself. You heard them whispering in the bar about everything they’d like to do to him if only he’d give them a chance. Whether they noticed you listening in or not, it didn’t matter, you knew if Joel ever tired of you, he’d have the pick of the bunch.

You can feel the tears building behind your eyes, willing yourself to swallow them down before you lose control, when you feel that familiar, strong pair of arms encircle your waist. Automatically you mold into his frame, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck, he’s an observant man though, he knows something is wrong.

“What’s wrong, sugar?” You’ll never tire of that Southern drawl in your ear.

“It’s stupid.” You mumble, trying to turn in his arms, he’s keeping you exactly where you are though.

“Ain’t stupid if you’re upset,” He presses the softest of kisses to your cheek, “Tell me.”

“Jeans don’t fit.” You murmur, hoping that he won’t force you to repeat it, forgetting that he is actually pretty deaf these days.

“Huh?” Yep. Deaf as a doornail.

“I said,” You clear your throat, tears threatening to spill again, “My jeans don’t fit anymore.”

You can feel his breath exhaling deeply through his nostrils once he hears you, his arms bringing you closer, fitting tighter around your middle.

“That ain’t a bad thing, baby,” He muses, kissing the soft skin behind your ear, “Mean’s you’re alive, mean’s we’re livin’, properly now.”

“I know,” You whine, wriggling your body to try and get him to change the subject, “I just….”

“Just what?” He’s kissing down your neck now, “You gotta tell me what’s wrong, baby, else I can’t help.”

“Worried,” You sigh, mainly from frustration, but also from the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin, “Worried you won’t like me anymore.”

He movement of his mouth stops dead, pulling away from you, but keeping his arm tight around your middle, “Did I just hear you right, baby?” He asks, “Worried I won’t like you anymore?”

You nod silently, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He’s watching you intently in the reflection, taking one of his big palms from your middle to take your chin in his grip, “Look at yourself,” He commands, “You don’t see what I see?”

“I guess not?” You shrug, not being able to shake your head through his grip on your chin.

“Sugar,” He breathes, “I could never not want this face,” He’s let go of your chin and is instead trailing his fingers lightly over your cheeks, “The way your cheeks have gone plump, and that little dimple you get here,” He presses his finger right where he’s talking about, “Whenever you smile, you drive me crazy baby.”

Then he’s letting his other arm drop from your middle, placing a hand on either of your shoulders, teasing his fingers lightly down the skin of your arms until your flesh is erupting in goosebumps, even through the material of his flannel that you’re wearing. Once he’s trailed his hands back up to your shoulders, he’s unbuttoning the shirt, slowly but surely, and then dragging it off your frame, leaving you in just your bra and jeans.

This is the sight you hate. The way your tummy spills over the top of the waistband, the way the bra is definitely too small to comfortably do up in the back, causing little rolls of skin to spear, bunching around the material.

“Stop thinkin’ and listen to me,” He murmurs, back at your ear now, hands reaching around you to cup your breasts through your bra, “Always loved these,” His hot mouth is back to pressing kisses on the skin behind your ear, “Ain’t ever gonna complain about them getting bigger.” He’s firm in his squeeze which has you tipping your head back, pushing your chest further into his palms, but he’s already moving on.

His fingertips are gently running down your sides and over the curve of your waist, your body jolting when his touch borders on tickling, until he’s reaching around and undoing the button of your jeans and pulling the zipper down. There’s an instant relief, but you can see those damn red marks again.

“You see this?” He’s looking at you in the mirror again, urging your eyes to look at his hands where they are on your hips, “My favourite place to rest my hands, when I’m grabbin’ you in the kitchen to move you outta the way, or helpin’ you bounce on my cock.”

The utter filth mixed with the sweet sentiment have arousal pooling between your legs, you can already feel the need to rub your thighs together for a second of relief. You always wonders how he does this – takes the things you think are your biggest flaws and makes them seem so insignificant, but in the best way possible.

His hands skin the waistband of your jeans, hands slipping beneath the denim to grip the globes of your ass, “Do I need to say anythin’ about this, baby?” He asks, “Think you know exactly what I think about this peach.”

He’s right. You know it’s always been one of his favourite parts of you. The way his eyes would trail over you when you bent over when you were out on the road. The way he pulled at your hips to pull you closer into his body whenever he slept behind you. The way he would bring a hard palm down on the skin when he was fucking into you from behind or give it a playful swat whenever he walked past. The way he would grip onto it, much like he was now, when he would kiss you. He needn’t elaborate this time.

He shucks your jeans and underwear down to your ankles, guiding you to step out of them, before he makes quick work of unclipping your bra. You’re fully naked now, a sight you don’t think you’ve seen from yourself in many years. You want to shy away from it, want to pick apart the scars across your body, the added weight to your thighs and stomach. But when Joel is stood behind you, looking into your eyes in the mirror like he just won the lottery, it all inconsequential. None of it matters anymore. Because he was right. This means you’re alive, and you’re happy. You’ve got the man you always wanted to worship the ground you walk on. So what if you needed to go to the outfitters tomorrow for a new pair of jeans?

You meet Joel’s eyes in the reflection, noticing how your own eyes darken with lust at the same time his do, “You’re wearing far too many clothes, Joel Miller.” You whisper, voice low and husky.

You place a palm on the glass, leaning yourself forward. Your ass presses only momentarily into his crotch, before he’s pulling away and practically ripping his own clothes off. He’s naked and behind you in what feels like seconds. His calloused fingers are reaching around and slipping through your folds, dipping down to your entrance, where he finds you slick.

“Mama…..” He breathes, the term of endearment making you blush, “So wet and ready for me.”

“Always Joel.” You breathe as he brings those soaked fingers up to play with your clit.

You push yourself back into him, chasing his thick cock. You’re aching for him, always are.

“Look at yourself,” He’s saying, “Watch yourself when I give you my cock.”

You do exactly as he says, eyes on your own in the reflection as you feel him line himself up with your slick sex.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life tellin’ you just how beautiful I think you are, sugar,” He says, hand resting at your throat as he slides his cock into your aching cunt, “Gonna love you regardless of how many new pairs of jeans you might need, you hear me?”

You don’t answer straight away, overwhelmed as always by the way he’s stretching you open as he works himself into your pussy to the hilt. You’d never watched yourself like this and it’s almost like you’re having an out of body experience. You know the girl in front of you, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes glazed over is you and you know the man grunting behind you with his cock finally sheathed in your cunt is Joel, but it doesn’t seem real somehow.

“Gotta answer me baby,” He speaks as he draws his cock from you almost all the way, “Only gonna give it to you if you answer.”

“Yes Joel…” You whine, and you’re rewarded with his cock slamming back into you.

He sets that pace, one hand pressed firmly at your pussy, working at your clit, the other at the base of your throat where he squeezes every now and then. You’ve seen Joel in a thousand circumstances where he’s had his hand around someone’s throat before. None of them have ever ended well for the other party. He could snap you in half like a twig if he wanted, but the way he rests his hand, squeezing just enough to cut your air for seconds before he releases, does nothing but thrill you. It sends shocks down your spine, straight to your pussy. You can feel how wet you are, you can hear it as he stuffs you with his length.

You can see him in the mirror, and the visual is obscene. His teeth sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, the way his eyes are focused on the place where you’re joined together. You’re reveling in watching his fingers work your clit and you can feel that telltale coil in your belly start to unravel.

“Joel – fuck – don’t stop, I’m gonna….”

“Watch yourself,” He demands again, squeezing the hand at your throat, tilting your chin ever-so-slightly so you’re watching, his fingers rub a few more times over your clit before you’re letting go, “See how fucking pretty you look when I make you come, baby?”

There are no words at this point. Your legs are threatening to fail you, all you can feel is the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside of you, repeatedly. All you can hear is his skin slapping against yours, your moans and groans combining. Then, just like he always does in this position, he’s pulling himself from your clenching walls and fisting his own cock. You hear him first, the low growl you’ve come to know and love, then you feel it, the warm ropes of cum spilling over the cheeks of your ass and dripping down your thighs.

You’re both quiet for a moment, respectively trying to catch your breath, before he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and dragging you backwards to the bed. He throws you down on the sheets, a surprise yelp leaving your mouth.

“Joel, the sheets!” You exclaim, “We just changed them, now they’re going to be covered.”

“Don’t care,” He grumbles, dropping to his knees in front of you, dragging you forward by an ankle, “Wanna eat this perfect pussy, make you forget everything, so all you’ll know is my name and what this mouth feels like.”

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eustasskidagenda · 7 months

Note

hello im so excited that your ask box is open and youre taking requests! i dont request things often, so this might be a but of a weird concept, and i apologize if its too detailed. however the idea literally wont leave me alone. orz;;

maybe eustass kid has a crush on a somewhat reserved reader whose slow to open up and he hasnt quite realized thats what hes feeling until they stop on an island and meet readers childhood friend. they show a whole new side of themself with said friend by laughing openly, making stupid jokes, being much more physically affectionate. basically reader acts close with an old friend and kid gets jealous about it.

i dont mind if you do a oneshot, drabble, or headcanon, im just curious about your thoughts on this :3 thank you so much and i hope you have a great day!

Hello dear anon! Sure, I'm always happy to write for my pookie. It was fun to write, and it makes me smile a bit because Kid is such a mess, I love this angry tulip. Hope it will match your expectations. ☆

☆Kid with a s/o slow to open up

CW : g/n reader, a bit of cursing but fluff overall

WC : 700

Kid has always been loud. Whenever he's angry, he needs to shoot at someone. What can he say? His heart is filled with emotions, boiling and exploding like a thousand sparks. That's why you're a mystery. Always calm. Not letting others know what's on your mind. What makes you so quiet? He can't tell.

Just like the moon and the sun, you are polar opposites. And yet, as the sun always chases the moon, he's always looking after you. And he's everything, but not discreet. Asking loudly for almost all of his crew what they think about you and why you are so reserved.

Sure, he's used to introverted folks. Killer is one of them. But here's the difference: he can second-guess every word, thought, and breath of his best friend. He could probably achieve all of his sentences. And even through the mask, Kid could also guess the exact expression on Killer's face.

Killer, who is likely aware that Kid has a small crush on you.

Kid is genuinely frustrated. Loudly frustrated, obviously. He needs to feel in control of everything and hates when he doesn’t have a full-understanding. Usually, he fails to notice reserved people because he's taking all the attention. But there's something about you: your slight smiles, the flash in your eyes, the way you're always listening to others but never talk about yourself. He can't tell why, but it keeps his mind alert.

Perhaps you pose a bit of a challenge. Kid would never give two flying fucks about you if you were easy to see through. He's always looking after you because you're still a mystery. Sure, at the beginning, it was just to try to figure out who you really are. But now, it turned into something bigger. He hasn't noticed it yet, that’s all. Kid sucks with feelings. Feelings are actually something he hates because they make him feel weak. It puts his loved one in danger. Showing your weaknesses to enemies is a foolish move, Kid knows that perfectly.

However, everything is about to change. He decided to stop on that island for the day. For the first time, you asked to avoid robbery or harming anyone around.

"Ugh, we're pirates, y/n" Kid doesn't want to look like a nice guy. He's a tough, rude pirate. He has a reputation to uphold. For him, the only good way to open a path is by violent means. Kindness? For what? If he's still alive today, it's because he toughened up and decided to never show mercy to anyone.

"Fine, fine, I won't kill those people." Heavy sighs. But he wants to understand. He needs to understand. And finally, he's about to understand.

Because suddenly, you're smiling heartily and running towards those scumbag strangers. What. The. Fuck. It's like seeing the sun after an eternity of blizzards and grey clouds. You're a bright light, a true sunshine. A burst of joy. You're joking, laughing, talking, and talking a lot. You never said more than two sentences in front of him, and now you're chatting endlessly with those strangers and hugging all of them.

He's pissed off. Are those random people with terrible sense of style and ugly make-up better than him? The great Eustass "Captain" Kid? No way.

"Guys, here's my captain, Kid. Kid, here are my childhood best friends."

Kid's face is a mess of angry scowls and boiling with frustration when they say hello. Why aren't you smiling as warmly when you're with him? Why is his heart pounding so hard, almost painfully in his chest? And damn, is it the cold or are his cheeks completely red?

Poor Kid is both flushed and flustered. His first reflex is always exploding when he feels something. "Do you have a problem with me?" Barking through gritted teeth.

He's ruining the happy-shitty mood and he doesn't care.

So now, try to explain that you don't have a problem with him. Good luck, he's very stubborn. But once he's more or less calmed (because he's still pissed off), he still can't understand why his heart is racing at the sight of your soft, warm smile.

He wants to see that side of you more often. He wants to be part of those privileged people allowed to know the real you.

Yes, maybe he has a crush on you.

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid #one piece requests #eustass kidd x reader #eustass x reader #eustass captain kidd #one piece x y/n #one piece x you

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magicfootballstuff · 1 year

Text

Gym Buddies (alexia putellas x reader)

Summary: When you rupture a ligament shortly after joining Barcelona, your new captain is there to help you through the long recovery process.

———

You don’t actually see much of Alexia in your first few weeks at Barcelona.

You had been in camp with your national team when the news broke that Alexia would be missing the Euros because of a knee injury, and though you paid attention to the story, knowing that this was an injury affecting a soon-to-be teammate, you had been so caught up in your own Euro preparations that it didn’t actually register what it meant until you actually find yourself in the Barcelona training facility for pre-season.

You meet Alexia on your first day with the team. She welcomes you in accented English and pulls you in for a hug - the kind of polite but awkward hug you get from a vague acquaintance - and then moves away to chat to some of the Spanish girls, leaving you slightly starstruck. You try not to let it show though. She may have a Ballon D’Or and another potentially on the way soon, but you’re a European champion, a very good footballer in your own right, but it’s Alexia bloody Putellas and she has this aura of magic around her, even without a ball at her feet.

And then, when the team start their warmup drills for your first ever training session at Barcelona, Alexia disappears off the pitch for her rehab session in the gym, and you realise it might be a little while longer before you actually get to play with her.

She remains a bit of a mystery, showing her face here and there, though she mostly seems to spend time with the girls who have been at Barcelona with her for years, and she shows up dutifully to every match to cheer from the sidelines, but Alexia is focused on the rehab that keeps her away from the training pitch.

But then, three weeks into the season, just when you’re starting to feel settled and have found your place in a star-studded Barcelona team, an awkward challenge in a match sees you falling badly and being helped off the pitch by the team physios with tears in your eyes. You hope it’s just a sprained ankle, something you can recover from quickly and find yourself back on the pitch in just a few weeks, but the scan the morning after the game confirms the worst - you’ve torn a ligament and will be out for several months.

Having not really spent much time with Alexia so far, it’s a bit of a surprise when you turn up to the training ground for your first session post-surgery, foot strapped up in a plastic boot, and are greeted straight away with a hug from your injured captain.

“We’ve got this,” she murmurs into your ear, her arms still wrapped around you as she holds you close. “Anything you need, I’m here to help.”

“Thank you,” you tell her, squeezing her just that little bit tighter in response.

———

Later, when most of the girls are out on the pitch and you find yourself in the gym with Alexia and a couple of others who are sidelined with minor injuries, she reiterates her support for you.

“Are you okay?” she asks, while one of the physios is writing up your programmes for the day on a whiteboard in the gym - you’ve got an upper body circuit while Alexia will be doing a mix of strength training and low impact cardio.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m fine.”

“No, I mean are you okay? Like mentally?” Alexia taps her fingers against her temple to emphasise her question. “An injury can be tough to take.”

“Oh. Well, I’m disappointed, obviously. I just want to play. But this is part of football.”

“Somebody paid attention to their media training,” Alexia jokes, shooting you a little smirk. “A very professional answer. But you can open up to me if you’re struggling. I get it.” She gestures down at her knee. “Some days I’m really not okay. I love supporting the girls but it’s so hard to watch them and not join in. So if you need someone to talk to, remember I’m here. As your captain and as your friend.”

You realise now why she’s so popular among the team, why everybody who knows her speaks so highly about her as a person off the pitch as well as her obvious talent on it.

“Thanks, Alexia.”

“We’ll get through this. We’re injury partners now.”

“How about we say gym buddies instead of injury partners?” you suggest, gesturing around at the gym that will be your home for the foreseeable future until you get the all clear to go back out onto the training pitch. “Less depressing.”

Alexia grins at you.

“Deal.”

———

“Hola, gym buddy,” says Alexia, hurrying to catch up with you and draping an arm around your shoulders as you hobble into the gym on crutches two weeks into your rehab.

It’s been the hardest two weeks of your career, but you wouldn’t have been able to make it through without Alexia’s constant presence and support. You haven’t known her for long but she seems to know you better than anybody else on the team, she knows exactly what to say, when you need support and when you need space, and is rapidly becoming the sole reason you’re able to get out of bed each morning and motivate yourself to work through the slow progress of your rehab.

“Hey, Alexia,” you greet your captain.

“Ready for another day of hard work?” she asks you.

“I am now,” you joke.

Rehab is hard. And boring, too. You don’t yet feel like you’re actually making any progress, still unable to do any exercises that put unnecessary weight on your injured foot, you’re really just playing a waiting game until the boot can come off and the real work can begin.

“I’m hoping they let me use the bike today for the first time,” Alexia tells you, excitement barely contained in her voice.

“Ale, that’s huge!” you congratulate her. “I’m so happy for you.”

———

Recovery isn’t all good news. You learn that the hard way when your plastic boot comes off. What you thought would be a huge step forward in your recovery actually ends up just highlighting the mountain you have ahead of you. Perhaps naively you thought you’d be able to start ramping up the exercises pretty quickly, but the trainers are cautious and your rehab programme consists of the same old upper body workouts with only a handful of conditioning exercises for your ankle thrown in. Actually kicking a football again seems like it’s an eternity away.

But you’re not the only one who finds it difficult. Alexia presents such a strong exterior, full of motivation on your darkest days and always the one working hardest in the gym to get back to her best, but not even she is made entirely of stone.

You learn that when you go to the bathroom in the middle of a gym session and hear somebody crying in a locked cubicle.

Most of the team are outside on the training pitch, and of those of you doing recovery sessions indoors, all except one were accounted for when you left the gym a moment ago. There’s only one person this can be.

“Alexia?”

The sniffling stops and the subsequent silence that shrouds the bathroom is enough to confirm your hunch that your captain is the one crying in the locked cubicle.

“Alexia, it’s me.”

“I’m fine!” she calls back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

Silence. You want to support her but you’re not going to push it if she’s not comfortable.

“Okay, I’m going to go now but if you change your mind…”

You hear the bolt being slid across and the hinges creak as Alexia steps out. Her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks glisten with tear tracks.

“I can’t do this,” she confesses, her voice cracking mid-sentence as she tries to stifle a fresh flood of tears.

You don’t know what to say. Alexia, the stoic captain, your rock since you picked up your own injury, standing before you more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen her before, and all you want to do is make sure that it’s all going to be okay. But telling her that doesn’t feel right - you know from your struggles with your own injury that those kinds of empty assurances are sometimes the exact opposite of what you need.

Alexia doesn’t need telling that, she needs to know that somebody understands her pain.

“I’m not going to tell you that you can do this,” you start, “but there have been so many times over the last couple of months that I’ve thought that I can’t do this. I’ve wanted to give up, to quit football. Some days I haven’t even wanted to get out of bed. Do you know the only reason why I did get up on those days?”

You pause for effect and Alexia says nothing, waiting for you to answer your own question. You place your hands on her arms as you look into her shimmering eyes.

“Because I know that when I get to the training ground, my gym buddy is going to be there to help me through the day.”

Alexia’s mouth twitches at the mention of the affection nickname you’ve been using for each other throughout your recovery.

You continue, “I’m working towards the day that I get to step out onto the grass and kick a ball around with the person who has saved me from my own worst demons. I want to play football with you. And just like you’ve been there for me, I’m here for you to make sure we get to that day together.”

“I can’t be strong every day.”

“You don’t have to be. But I think the strongest thing you’ve done since I met you is admitting that you’re not okay. I’m here for you today, so let it all out. Tomorrow we fight again together. Okay?”

Alexia throws her arms around you and pulls your body against hers for a tight hug.

“Okay,” she murmurs into your hair.

———

Something shifts after that moment. Before Alexia’s little breakdown, you had thought that it was her who was supporting you through your injury, but now you realise that you’re helping her just as much. You both have difficult moments - setbacks, or days where your return to the pitch seems an impossibly long way in the future - but you learn to read each other. Alexia can tell when you’re having a down day and gives you extra encouragement, hugs and humour, and you do the same when you can tell that she needs it too.

The months pass and the recovery intensifies. Somehow, despite your differing injuries, the timelines start to match up. You’re back running on the grass not long after Alexia, you rejoin the rest of the team for parts of the normal training within a week of each other, and when the time finally comes for you to return to the matchday squad, you and Alexia are both given approval to play again by the physios on the same weekend.

You even get subbed onto the pitch at the same time, when Barcelona are four goals up with twenty minutes left on the clock.

As the official gets the substitute board ready, Alexia’s hand finds yours and she squeezes your fingers. Your turn your head to look at her, to find her grinning at you.

“We did it,” she tells you.

“Yeah, we did.”

There’s so much more you want to say, so much you need to thank her for, because you wouldn’t have made it to this point without her by your side, but this isn’t the moment.

The teammates you’re replacing high five you as they come off and just like that, you’re back on a football pitch for an actual competitive game for the first time in forever.

The stadium erupts into monumental applause, and while you know that the Barcelona fans are mostly cheering the return of La Reina after ten months off the pitch, Alexia makes sure to direct her own applause to you as you both jog onto the pitch, and that’s all that matters to you.

Alexia ends up scoring Barcelona’s fifth and final goal, a free kick from just outside the box, because how else does a double Ballon D’Or winner announce their return to competitive football? As the back of the net ripples and the crowd roars, she runs straight over to you and wraps you in an embrace so tight that she physically lifts you off the ground, and your feet only touch the grass again when the rest of your teammates join the huddle to congratulate their captain.

The match ends not too long after and Alexia once again seeks you out straight away. She puts a hand on either side of your head and looks you straight in the eye, her face cracking open into a grin.

“We’re back,” Alexia says.

“We are,” you agree. “And you scored.”

“That goal was for you.”

You don’t get to respond because the rest of the team bundles into you and you can only watch as they work together to lift Alexia up and start throwing her into the air. Then before you know it they’ve gone for you too, and you find yourself lifted off the ground in celebration of your return to the matchday squad.

You have a brief moment of worry that they’re going to drop you and inflict another injury on you, but then you hear Alexia’s laughter rippling through the air and you feel at ease again.

She always has a way of settling your anxieties, whether she’s trying or not.

———

Some time later, when you’ve showered and changed and the dressing room is almost empty, you look around for Alexia but can’t see her anywhere.

Lucy, who is supposed to be giving you a lift home after the match, nudges you and says, “She went back onto the pitch.”

You turn to look at her quizzically, because she can’t possibly know who you’re looking for.

“What?”

“Alexia. Go on, I’ll wait in the car. Tell her how you feel.”

Your cheeks burn.

“It’s not … I don’t …”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from my own past injuries,” Lucy interrupts your stammering, “it’s that life is too short to live with any regrets. Go and talk to her. I think you’ll be surprised.”

You don’t say anything but nod your thanks to Lucy, hoisting your boot bag onto your shoulder and exiting the dressing room. You wander back down the tunnel and out to the edge of the pitch. Alexia is nowhere to be seen, but when you turn around, you spot a lone figure sitting up in the stands, surveying the empty pitch in front of her.

You climb the steps two at a time and walk between the rows of seats, before sitting down next to Alexia.

“I’ve been playing on this pitch in a Barcelona jersey for longer than I can remember,” Alexia tells you, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Every time it’s special. I can’t tell you how many times in the last few months I thought I’d never get that honour ever again.”

You laugh, ready to tell Alexia that she’s insane, because while you had similar moments of worry in your own rehab journey, you never for once doubted that Alexia wouldn’t make it back, but she turns to you and continues speaking.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have got here without you,” she tells you.

“I definitely wouldn’t have done it without you,” you admit. “My gym buddy.”

Lucy’s words ring in your ears. Now is the moment to tell Alexia how you feel, but you clam up at the prospect, unable to find the words to tell Alexia how much she means to you.

Luckily, Alexia seems to be stronger than you, and finds the words you can’t.

“You’re so much more than my gym buddy,” Alexia tells you, reaching across and taking your hand. “You entered my life at exactly the right moment and I’m so lucky to have you.”

You let your fingers tangle with Alexia’s, you heart hammering in your chest as you steel yourself for a moment that seems harder than any you went through during your recovery.

“I’m the lucky one,” you confess. “I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anybody else by my side. You’re more than my teammate, more than my friend. I think I’m falling for you.”

There. It’s out. You finally admitted it. Your heart is out there for Alexia to bruise in a way that will be much harder to heal from than a stupid ankle injury.

But Alexia lets out a deep breath and her mouth curls up into a smile, a look of adoration in her eyes as she squeezes your fingers.

“Me too. I’m so glad you feel the same. I thought I was being stupid.”

“Can I kiss you?” you blurt out.

“Please,” Alexia nods.

You lean in and the moment that your lips touch Alexia’s is even more euphoric than kicking a football again after months of rehab. A memorable day becomes even more special as Alexia reciprocates your kiss, lips moving slowly against each other, a reward and a thank you for months of helping each other through the tough times to get to today.

You pull apart when you’re getting breathless, and though you’d happily spend the rest of the night here, kissing Alexia in the stands at the Estadi Johan Cruyff until long after the sun has gone down, you know you should probably head home.

“I really don’t want to go, but Lucy’s waiting in the car to drive me home,” you tell Alexia, still holding onto her hand as you start your goodbyes. “But thank you again for everything.”

“I don’t think I’m going to forget today for a long time,” Alexia says. “For more than one reason.”

“Me neither,” you agree. You lean in for one more kiss, unable to get enough of Alexia’s lips, before you pull away and reluctantly let go of her hand as you stand up. “See you in training?”

“Or sooner,” suggests Alexia, with a smile that causes your heart to do a little flip. “I’ll text you.”

“I can’t wait.”

#woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

734 notes · View notes

mymoodwriting · 1 year

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Request for Anon (Yandere Sugar Daddy NCT U) 9k, assault, verbal assault, physical assault, slut-shaming, public humiliation, bullying, name calling, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, penetration, blowjob, handjob, creampie, gang bang, breeding, pregnancy scare, forced pregnancy, non-con, kidnapping, yandere, bad ending, blatant disregard for womens reproductive rights

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

This wasn’t the first time you had answered the phone in such a manner. Screaming into the little speaker, hoping to blow out the eardrum of the annoying caller, and then hanging up. It was a very frustrating ordeal.

“Damn girl, what’s your problem?”

“It’s nothing, Mina. Just trying to get my point across.”

“Is someone bothering you?”

“Bingo.”

“Then why haven’t you blocked their number?”

“Oh I have, but obviously they still know mine. So whenever I get a call from a random number, I answer by screaming.”

“And how long have you been doing that for?”

“Uh… a little over a week now.”

“Seriously? And they still haven’t gotten the message?”

“Nope.”

“You know, what if those calls are important?”

“I don’t have any jobs or internships or anything that I’m waiting to hear back on, so it’s highly unlikely that’s the case.”

“Maybe you should change your number.”

“That would mean spending money I don’t have.”

“Really? Says the girl who has paid her tuition in full and doesn’t owe a penny in student debt. All because of some mystery job she won’t tell me about or share!”

“Well, you know me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

You and Mina were close friends, having met here at Uni your freshman year and sticking together through it all. Now you were at the start of your final semester, ready for one last ride before starting a new chapter of your life. Of course the campus was jammed back as new students were moving in, and freshmen were trying to navigate this new place and find their classes. It was a really beautiful day too, and you had yet to start any of your classes, so you were in a pretty good mood. You knew you probably wouldn’t feel the same by the end of the day, but it was best to make the most of it now. That is until you were suddenly yanked back, and came face to face with someone you really didn’t want to see.

“You’re such a fucken bitch.”

Jeno’s words dripped with venom. To say he was pissed would be an understatement. He was also the last person you wanted to see right now.

“What the hell are you doing here!”

“Why aren’t you answering our calls?”

“Oh, I am answering. I just don’t wanna hear what you have to say!”

“That’s not solely for you to decide!”

“Yes, it is. If I want to end things, I can, and I have.”

“Without a proper explanation? You’re kidding, right?”

“Does it sound like I am?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Leave. Before I call security.”

“We are not leaving until we talk.”

“We?”

You heard it then, the terribly familiar sound of a car engine, two car engines to be specific. You looked over and saw the vehicles pulling up, two gentlemen exiting each one, and making their way over to you. In the moment you attempted to run off, but Jeno grabbed your arm and dragged you towards them.

“There she is.” Ten teased. “Where ya been hiding love?”

“Fuck off! I want nothing to do with you! Any of you!”

“Yeah, we got your text. Now explain yourself.”

“What’s there to explain? I’m breaking up with you, period.”

“See that’s the thing.” Johnny grabbed your chin and forced your eyes to meet. “Where did that silly idea come from?”

“My head. Or is that too hard to comprehend.”

“Easy now, princess. You’re begging for punishment if you keep acting like this.”

“I’m not playing any games here.” You pulled away from Johnny. “We’re done, now leave.”

“That’s hardly an explanation.” Jaehyun hissed. “Do the last four years mean nothing to you?”

“Are you really all that dumb? Our relationship was just an exchange of goods and services, nothing more.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ve told you all about my dreams and aspirations for the future before. When did I ever include you in them?”

Yuta scoffed. “So you really just whored yourself out to us for four years so we could pay your tuition? And now that it’s all been paid off, you’re done with us?”

“Bingo. Maybe you’re not that stupid.”

“This was all just a fucken game to you?” Jeno yelled. “Four years?! A fucken game!”

“Not like you ever made a serious move, did you now? Any of you for that matter. So don’t come bitching to me about a broken heart or broken promises. It’s not my fault you caught feelings when I wasn’t sending you any fucken signals.”

“Yeah? What about all the nights out? The dinners, the trips, the clothes and accessories?”

“Dinners, and trips, you invited me out on. I never asked to go anywhere. As for the clothes and other stuff, that’s all at your place, isn’t it? I never kept any of the fancy expensive stuff you got me, did I? Nor did I ask for anything. I owe you nothing. You got what you paid for, more than that actually, but I’m fine leaving things as they are.”

Your words had certainly stunned them into silence. And you also meant everything you said. It was certainly fun to be with them, to get a little slice of that kinda life, even if it was just for a while. You knew it wouldn’t last though, and that’s the mentality you kept, the one that kept you from falling for them. They were just rich guys wanting someone to mess around with, and now that their no-strings attached fuck buddy had left them, they were panicking. You said your peace, having to spell it all out for them. It was good to get it off your chest though, and with that you’d make you exit. Or at least that was the idea.

As you turned around to leave, you felt a hand grab your arm and yank you back with enough force to drop you to the ground. You couldn’t get back up as they surrounded you. By then your whole argument had been noticed and a crowd of students and faculty had gathered around. Having this conversation out in the open was already embarrassing, and all the attention was making it worse. Although they were about to increase that exponentially.

“Whore.” Jaehyun spat. “Any money spent on you was clearly a waste. The only way you could think about getting through uni was to spread your legs. I bet you slept around with your professors too.”

“Excuse me!”

“Do you even have any brains?” Yuta questioned. “Or are you just playing pretend so you can wear a cap and gown, and show off some piece of paper.”

“Fucken-”

You tried to get up but Jeno got his foot on your chest, pinning you down. You struggled to get him off, but he was putting all his weight on you. When your eyes met him you could see he was still pissed, and if possible, he was way more enraged now.

“You found someone else to spread your legs for, didn’t you!” Jeno yelled. “Whoring yourself out for whoever can benefit you the most!”

“Get off of me!”

“Why? Don’t you like having men on top of you?” Johnny kicked dirt at you. “Fucken slut.”

“Ya!”

“Just do what you do best.”

Yuta and Ten started yanking your legs apart, and you kicked and screamed at them. Although you stopped when Jeno put more weight on you and you struggled to breath. You were clawing at his leg, but he was relentless.

“What’s going on here!”

Two officers from campus security approached and all the boys stepped back. Jeno moved away and you took in a deep breath, sitting up and coughing a bit.

“We’re leaving.” Ten smiled. “No need for an escort.”

“Hold on now, you can’t-”

“Just let them go.” You spoke. “I’m not gonna make a big deal out of this.”

The officers didn’t do anything more, and so the boys walked off. Soon enough you heard those damn engines again, but you didn’t dare look over at them. For a moment after they were gone everything remained quiet and still, and then Mina came over to help you stand, the crowds starting to disperse.

“What the hell was all that?”

“Remember when I told you I got a sugar daddy…”

“Yeah, daddy, as in one, not five! Also, I didn’t believe you.”

“Well I wasn’t lying.”

“Clearly. And you couldn’t share any of them?”

“They’re not exactly easy to deal with.”

“Is that why you’d always ditch me? Disappear on weekends? Why we couldn’t ever really share a meal together? You were off with them.”

“Yeah…”

“You really are stupid.”

“Ya!”

“Girl, when did you ever have time for yourself? Or anyone else in your life who was actually important? Here I thought you were just so focused on studying and busy working to pay off your tuition. I wasn’t wrong on the latter, but still.”

“Are you... mad at me?”

“No, not really. Just processing out loud... you did tell me about this, somewhat, I just didn’t think you were for real.”

“I know. If you had told me the same thing I wouldn’t have believed you either.”

“But you’re really done with them now?”

“Yup. I didn’t think they’d throw such a fit though.”

“A fit? I’d call that harassment, and assault. Shouldn’t you press charges?”

“There’s no point. They’d get good lawyers, and it’d just be a waste of my time. I don’t want anything to do with them anymore, so I’ll let it go.”

“Fine, but you are getting a new number after class. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

That morning certainly killed the mood, but you went about your day trying to make the best of it. Of course your chest hurt pretty bad, but nothing some quick pain killers couldn’t deal with. Like you had promised, after all your classes, you and Mina went to change your number. Then you went about the grueling task of messaging friends and family to let them know you had a new number.

“Shall we go out for ice cream? You know, since you’re free now.”

“I could use something sweet.”

You knew there would still be issues. If they made such a big show at your campus, who knows what else would happen if you met out on the streets. With that in mind you didn’t go anywhere off campus alone, and you didn’t visit any of their favorite places or usual hangouts. You thought you had it figured out, but there was something you couldn’t avoid. Everyone else.

Word spread fast about that day. About how a girl got harassed by five guys, and all the slurs and insults that they threw her way. A few days later everyone seemed to know your name, and had an idea of the type of person you were. When you went to class all the others would purposely sit away from you, only Mina ever sat next to you. Then there were the whispers and chuckles. Every time you raised your hand to ask a question there was always some comment about you sleeping around with the professor. Regardless of who it was. It was frustrating, but you just pushed through. Although Mina certainly wanted to pick a fight with everyone.

“Just let it go.”

“How are you so okay with this?”

“I’m not, but it’ll die down eventually. As long as I don’t engage with them I won’t add fuel to the fire. So don’t pay them any attention.”

“They are slut-shaming you and saying all kinds of shit.”

“And I just have to make it through this semester. After that I can move forward and really build my life. I’m not gonna let some idiots who have nothing better to do ruin that. Besides, I’m sure they’re all just jealous I could actually get a Sugar Daddy, and five at that.”

“You’re not wrong there. Those people don’t just throw money at anyone.”

“I appreciate you ready to fight for me, but this ain’t worth it.”

Mina sighed. “Fine, but if you ever wanna start swinging, just let me know.”

“Will do.”

🖤

You were right, in part. The teasing did die down, and you could go about your life like normal, but there were still a handful of dicks who found things funny. And one ballsy little fucker who decided to go a step further. As one of your classes ended, and you were gathering your things, another of your peers accidentally spilled their drink all over you.

“Oh shit, my bad. You must be used to getting soaked though.”

That bastard and his friends snickered to themselves. You knew everyone got the joke, some chuckling too, but of course no one was gonna say anything or take your side. So you just did your best to clean your face, and then whipped around to look at your attacker. Of course it was a boy and his friends, although he got quiet now that you were staring at him dead on.

“Your mistake, right?”

“Yeah. I can be clumsy, you know.”

“Right. So then just pay up and we can call it even.”

“Huh?”

“You said it was your mistake. So pay for it.” You held out your hand. “I think a hundred dollars should cover my hair and clothes.”

“A hundred dollars? You play around with some rich boys and now you think you’re worth all that?”

“So you’re not gonna pay me?”

“Fuck that.”

“Fine then, but we are gonna call it even.”

“What?”

Without missing a beat you swung at him and clocked him right in the face. He fell back onto his friends, and you noticed a bit of blood from his nose.

“My mistake. I guess we’re even now.”

“You bitch!”

Not once in your academic career have you ever wound up in the principal’s office, this was the student dean’s office, so not the same but still. You had no problems with words, but things getting physical was crossing a line, and you weren’t going to sit still. You were still drying off as you sat in the dean’s office, listening to that jerk go off about how you were a monster and whatever. You weren’t going to apologize until he did, but that was definitely not gonna happen when his parents walked in. You couldn’t believe he actually called for help like this, and now they were demanding your expulsion. That someone violent like you shouldn’t be at such a place.

“Are you kidding? Are you even looking at me? Your son started this, and couldn’t apologize or pay up for his mistake!”

“A mistake isn’t met with physical violence!”

“He started it!”

“Please, everyone calm down.” The dean spoke. “We can resolve this without yelling.”

“I want that girl expelled.”

“That seems a little too-”

“Do you know how much we give to this school so-”

The conversation stopped short as the door opened. You couldn’t imagine who else would join this conversation. When you looked back your eyes went wide, and you stood up.

“Sit down, baby.” Johnny said. “We’ll get you cleaned up later.”

“How-”

“Who the hell are you gentlemen?!”

“Y/n’s sponsors.” Jaehyun smiled. “We heard there was a commotion involving her, and by the state she is in, I’m not very happy. What is being done to remedy this?”

“She hasn’t apologized for hitting my son!”

“Has he apologized for his actions?”

“Exactly who are you to be making such demands?”

“Ah, right. I’ve not introduced myself. I’m Jung Jaehyun. These are my friends, Nakamoto Yuta, Johnny Suh, Lee-”

“I know those names…”

“Good. Then apologize before you’re buried.”

“Excu-”

“Or shall this be resolved outside this room?” Ten smiled. “I have no problem doing it that way too. I might actually prefer it.”

You didn’t care much for an apology, you got to punch the fucker in the face, but getting one was the cherry on top. You didn’t apologize either and the situation was left at that. Now that you had a moment you wanted to go clean up, and the boys wound up dragging you into a gender neutral bathroom. Johnny locked the door, and leaned against it, guaranteeing privacy. You were ready to start screaming and fighting but Yuta turned the sink on, getting the water warm and grabbing paper towels. They weren’t saying anything, and you could silently be grateful for that. You washed up your hair, using the hand dryer to dry it off as best you could. Jeno gave you his jacket afterwards since your shirt was still dirty.

“Alright, what the fuck do you want?”

“We owe you an apology.” Yuta said. “For everything.”

“Go on then.”

“We’re sorry we attacked you the way we did that day.” Jeno began. “We were out of line and completely in the wrong for that.”

“Assholes. You know this is all your fault right? Everyone keeps calling me names because of you! And this was the first time someone dared to take it a step further.”

“We never meant-”

“Then what did you think was gonna happen when you screamed out that I was a whore in the middle of campus?”

“…”

“Good try, I guess.”

“You were right.” Ten admitted. “Four years is a lot of time, and yet throughout it all you never made a move to suggest you wanted anything more from us than attention and money. We never did anything to give you the impression that we wanted more from you either. I’m sure if we had, you would have said something sooner. So you were right, we had no reason to act the way we did. We’ve been seeing each other for a long time and you broke it off so suddenly. Our judgment became clouded, and we let rage overtake us when we should have been better. We can’t simply undo what we did, but we are sincerely sorry for our actions.”

“Hm… was it really that hard to take a moment and reflect?”

“Yeah…” Jaehyun added. “We’ve had such good times together, it was hard to believe you’d just leave us like that… but why was it so sudden? Why didn’t you just talk to us?”

“I… I wasn’t entirely sure how… we weren’t really boyfriend and girlfriend… and it’s not like we had agreed to anything specifically when we started this whole… thing… all I could think of was a break up text… I also didn’t think you’d explode at me the way you did… I mean, I always thought you had girls lined up that you played with or whatever… I didn’t think you’d care that much…”

“Well, as you can see… we care a lot…”

“Yeah… how did you even know I was in trouble?”

“We might have… been paying someone in the administrative office to keep tabs on you for us…”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Johnny commented. “We’ve practically been with you throughout your whole academic career. You’re a good student, so we never imagined you’d get into any kind of trouble, but just to be safe. It worked out for us in the end. We’ve been wanting to talk to you, to apologize, we just didn’t really know how to approach you.”

“I see.”

“Which brings us to our other point. Do you think we can do this properly?”

“Do what?”

“We understand that you don’t see us in your future, but can we at least end things on a good note? We’ve been with you for four years now… we were all kinda hoping to see you graduate you know…”

“What exactly are you suggesting here?”

“One last dinner… one last trip…” Yuta mumbled. “That kinda stuff… let us see this to the end. We can just be another part of your Uni days and nothing more.”

“Hm…”

“Can you at least give us that kinda closure?”

You weren’t really sure how you felt about all this. You had already cut them out of your life, but they were clearly still hanging on. At least they had apologized, and did help you back there in the dean’s office. Truth was the way you handled things wasn’t all that great either. You had been worried that if you just talked to them they’d find some way to convince you to stick around, but that really wasn’t your life plan. Now they understood that, so maybe things could end differently. You also didn’t want to part ways with them on a bad note.

“Just until graduation?”

“We really wanna see you with that cap and gown.” Jeno admitted. “You’ll look so gorgeous.”

“Alright, we can somewhat continue as we were, but after my graduation, we’re done. Understood?”

“Got it.”

“Can we take you out to lunch then?” Ten asked. “Since you’re done with classes for the day.”

“You know my schedule too?”

“We were trying to figure out a way to talk to you…”

“Fine, let me just go change clothes first. I’ll meet you at my usual pick up spot?”

“That works for us.”

🖤

It had been a while since you last hung out with the boys, so there was a bit of awkwardness. At least this was just lunch to ease back into things. They took you to one of their usual spots, getting a private room and ordering your favorites.

“So, you really just clocked him in the face, huh?”

“He could have paid up. I wasn’t going to let him do that without consequence.”

“Good on you.” Yuta cheered. “Although tryna get you kicked out, that’s ridiculous.”

“I can’t believe he called his parents. Such a momma’s boy.”

“Says the sugar baby.”

“I didn’t call you to come save my ass.”

“Ah, so you agree.” Johnny teased. “We did save you?”

“Well… I wasn’t entirely sure how I was gonna deal with that just yet…”

“We saved you. It’s okay to admit that.”

“You guys just wanna brag to my face.”

“Is that so wrong?” Jeno teased. “Maybe you can shut me up with a reward.”

“You think you deserve a reward?”

“Don’t I?”

“Hm… what did you have in mind?”

“I have been missing you a lot.”

“Really? You? Or is it someone else?”

“Huh?”

Jeno had been at your side, and he was leaning in close asking for his reward. Now that you were teasing him back you leaned in too. You placed a hand between his legs, slowly moving it closer to his crotch. After breaking the ice, it was kinda easy to slip back into old dynamics. Besides, maybe you had missed something about them too.

“Oh… you want a reward out of this too, huh?”

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

“Easy now.” Jaehyun pulled you away from Jeno. “We’re just having lunch today, baby. Besides, are you still taking the pills?”

You sighed. “I stopped taking them when we parted ways.”

“Then we should probably get you back on them before we start playing. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“We still have some.” Ten offered. “They should work just fine, right?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Excellent. I’ll throw in a pregnancy test or two, just to be safe.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, you took a break from the pill, just a precaution.”

“Fair.”

Things weren’t exactly like before. They were more respectful of your time. Before they’d always be calling, wanting every moment of free time you had. They’d pick you up Friday night from school, keep you to themselves all weekend most of the time. You only ever got a pass during exam time, and when you had the guts to ask for a break. Usually you didn’t, not wanting to upset them and possibly lose out on your tuition money. It was exhausting, but it was all for a better life. At least that’s what you told yourself. This time around they were more like friends, checking in on you, and asking how you were doing.

They definitely wanted to see you, but on your own terms. So occasionally you’d go out for lunch, maybe dinner, but nothing too extravagant, as you knew they were gonna go all out for the last trip and dinner. At least with these little outings they always brought you back to campus unlike before where you’d spent the night with them until Sunday afternoon. Things were better this way, kinda making you wish the last four years had been like this too. Although you were actually surprised when they brought up the last trip.

“Spring break?”

“Yeah. Let’s have a blast and unwind before you give it your all for graduation.”

“Uh… well… the thing is…”

“You don’t like it?” Johnny questioned.

“I had already made plans with my friends for spring break… and I thought you’d want to go out on a trip like after my finals…”

“Ah, right. You didn’t intend for us to still be in your life by now.”

“Then how about we split it.” Yuta suggested. “First half of your break, you hang out with your friends. For the second half, we get you all to ourselves.”

“Hm… switch it.”

“Huh?”

“You get the first half, my friends get the second half.”

“How come?”

“Cause you guys can switch your plans around easily, my friends can’t.”

“Fair. So we’ll pick you up Monday morning?” Jeno asked. “Or can we come get you Friday night?”

“Oh, wanna kick things off early?”

“If you can handle it.”

“Sure. I’ll pack some things after my class.”

“Can’t wait.”

Even if you were acting cool, you were excited for this trip. They always treated you so well, spoiled you like a princess. This wasn’t gonna be any different. They had been modest so far, but now was their chance to do things like back then. They picked you up in a party bus, starting off strong with drinks, and congratulating you on your midterm exams. Of course karaoke and good food followed, and you were out celebrating until early hours of the morning. Somehow you all made it back to the penthouse sweet. You had a few more drinks before you made it to bed, half dressed with the boys piled around you.

The morning was a hangover times six, although some of them had it worse than you. Thankfully breakfast was brought up, and hangover cures, so you just had to get up and put food in your mouth. When that failed Johnny was more than happy to feed you, the one of the bunch that could really handle their liquor. You also needed to get yourself together. The party had only just begun, not to mention all the plans you had with your friends later on in the week. For now though, you just needed to make it through breakfast.

“Had a little too much?”

“I’m good…”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“What’s it telling you?”

“You wanna throw up?”

“I don’t want a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Then some ice cream to help soothe your throat.”

“Ice cream for breakfast?” Jaehyun questioned. “Isn’t that a bad idea?”

“This week is all about bad ideas.”

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” You asked. “More drinks?”

“We want you sober for all the memories we are gonna make. So no more drinks, is that okay?”

“Just fine.”

“Good. We were thinking of some tourist attractions, and some trips to the museums.”

“Jellyfish!”

“Yes. The aquarium is on the list.”

“Awesome!”

Once you were all better you headed out, taking a limo into town. You had a chance to relax now that you were on break, and really take it all in. This was one of the last times you’d be around here, planning to go home after graduation. The whole day honestly made you feel like a child, indulging in everything you wanted to do or eat. To many you looked like a little sister with her brothers, or maybe just a lucky girl with her friends, but either way, you were glad you didn’t attract any negative attention. Some did recognize the boys, but that never became a problem, so you had nothing to worry about.

You got to have lunch in the aquarium, watching all the fishes swim, almost feeling like you were in the water with them. The penguins were great too, and the jellyfish, and dolphins. You totally walked out with two or three plushies. For dinner this time you returned to the hotel, having some quality food, but as said before no drinking. Jeno and Yuta still felt the need to embarrass you and make a toast to your health and success in school. They even had a dessert brought out with a candle to once again congratulate you on surviving midterms. Although once back in the suite you better understood why there was a drinking ban.

As soon as you set foot in the penthouse Johnny picked you up in his arms, taking you to the bedroom. He saw you down and laid you back, his hand caressing your cheek. You could feel one of the others getting your shoes off, and you knew where this was going. It had been a while, but you had been waiting for this. Besides all the attention and money, there was another benefit to having five sugar daddies. No one could ever take care of you the way you did. Johnny leaned down to kiss your lips, his hands reaching down to your shirt, although you stopped him.

“I don’t think you asked permission.”

“I’m not asking tonight, baby.”

“No?”

“You have any idea how bad you’ve been?”

“Me?”

“Breaking up with us.” Jeno hissed into your ear. “Hiding away and trying to leave.”

“I thought we-”

“Sh, unless you wanna cause more trouble.”

“Tonight you’re gonna give us everything we are owed.” Yuta added. “So you better take it all with a smile on your face.”

Suddenly Johnny had your hands pinned above your head as Jeno pulled up your shirt. He reached over to unhook your bra and push it up, exposing your breasts. He kneaded them for a moment and you bit your lip. His hands were cold, but he knew how you liked his touch. Then you felt hands getting you out of your skirt. The second your panties were exposed there was a hand grabbing your crotch.

“It did always hurt that you never invited us back to your dorm.” Ten commented. “Didn’t want you getting exposed to your roommate?”

“She knew… about our arrangement… sort of…”

“I didn’t say you could speak, baby.” Ten slapped your inner thigh. “Bad girl.”

You bit your lip, instinctively trying to close your legs but Ten pulled them apart. The boys stripped you out of your clothes, leaving your panties on for the time being. Jaehyun had taken to holding down your arms as Johnny started kissing down your chest, Ten’s hand squeezing your thighs. Yuta and Jeno were already shedding articles of clothing, getting you all the more excited.

“You’ve been a good girl and taking the pills we gave you, right?” Jaehyun asked, and you nodded. “Good. So we can have all kinds of fun tonight.”

For as long as you had been with them, you had always taken the pill. They didn’t always take you raw, but it was better to be safe than sorry. You were also glad they didn’t play around with that kinda thing, wanting to be safe with you even if they were gonna fill you up to the brim with their seed. Tonight was going to be no different, you figured they’d be desperate to do so. Even if they wanted to tease, they couldn’t help themselves for too long. Soon enough you were all naked, and you were getting attacked with kisses from all angles.

“Who’s first?”

“The eldest.”

They still cared to make sure you were nice and wet, Johnny stretching you out a good way before giving you everything. It had been so long for you too, abstaining from sex to focus on your studies. You also hadn’t slept with anyone else but them for four years, and weren’t entirely sure how to get laid anymore. Even if it hurt at first, your body was quick to remember this familiar stretch, and feeling. Johnny hadn’t forgotten your body though, doing everything just right, doing it just how you liked it. Not to mention the others knew what to do while waiting their turn. Playing with your tits, stealing kisses, rubbing your clit, using your hands or mouth to warm up. You were gonna wear yourself out long before them, and they really loved when you became putty in their hands.

Even with all the distractions you couldn’t ignore Johnny as he was the one pounding into you. He was always so rough and precise with his movements, hitting your sweet spot just right. Of course you had been getting yourself off in your dorm, but nothing could compare to one of them taking you over to the edge. You could tell when Johnny got close, he got sloppy and so desperate, trying to hold out to make it all last, but spilling inside you was just as rewarding. The warm feeling between your legs was already making you head spin, but you knew Johnny lost a bit of his touch if he didn’t get you off. He wanted another go, but Jaehyun was already shoving him out of the way.

His turn was spent and Jaehyun would take pride in finishing you off. He had no problem slipping into the mess that was becoming of your cunt, eager to add to the mix. Of course Johnny wanted to give you a taste too, having you use your tongue to clean him up. If you had taken him all at once you probably would have choked as Jaehyun was giving you everything. He was making it very obvious he had a lot of pent up frustrations he was taking out on you. If he made you feel this good, you wouldn’t mind him holding off more often. Although he wasn’t gonna get the satisfaction of making you cum either as Jeno started playing with your clit, pushing you over to the edge before Jaehyun was even close.

You squeezed Jaehyun tight, feeling as you were leaking out cum, your head thrown back as your mouth hung open in bliss. You vaguely heard Jaehyun scolding the other boy for taking what was his, but it wasn’t so bad if he got to fuck you while you were so sensitive. He moved with your climax, trying to keep you riding that high for as long as you could, but as you started to come down he got relentless. You couldn’t help but whimper, but that wasn’t gonna make him go any easy. In his own desperation he got close, unable to hold back before cumming inside you, making you overflow.

“Such a messy slut, taking two cocks so well.”

“Let’s make it three.”

Jeno wanted to go next, but Ten kicked him off. He stuck two fingers into your mess, swearing cum on your belly, and then sticking the digits in your mouth.

“How’s that taste?”

He swirled his fingers around before pulling them out with a pop. He could be real mean, playing with you when he wasn’t even filling you up. Your whimpers were adorable to him, especially when you got needy enough to start shaking your hips. Now you were begging, and he was happy to give you what you wanted.

“Whore.”

Hearing those words outside the bedroom certainly wasn’t fun, but in the bedroom, even if it was said with the same level of vileness, you’d happily accept it. Four years, the same five dicks, you were certainly a whore for them. Ten was certainly on the more elegant side, working you over along with him, knowing how to get you on his level so you’d both climax together. Even being a little out of practice with your body, he could still play you like an instrument. He always held your hands when he had his way with you, wanting more than just your cunt to squeeze him tight, he wanted to feel the rest of your body shake. You’ve left him with marks before, and he’d happily welcome them now.

“At a girl, still know who owns you.”

You swear you saw white when he made you cum, drool slipping down your face. It was only your second orgasm, but you knew they could get more out of you. As many as they pleased. There was a safe word in place, but in all the years you had known them, you never used it. They seemed to know your limits as well as you did. Before you could even properly come down Jeno was already kissing at your chest, sucking on your nipples as he edged himself inside. The noise that was heard as he pushed aside everyone else’s seed to get in, an all too familiar sound you did quite enjoy to hear.

“You’re already so full, baby, can you take more?”

“Yes…”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

These sheets were gonna need to be thrown out when you were all done. You were already creating such a mess, and it wasn’t much compared to other nights. At least not yet. Jeno was practically digging into you, pushing in as cum came out. They had all had their turns before, being first or last or in the middle, so they wouldn’t complain about what stage they got to you. There were five of them after all, so they had to be good about sharing. Jeno was eager to make you unwind, so he gave you plenty of attention elsewhere. Twirling around your clit with his fingers, seeing it get red and swollen, another hand on your hip, keeping you from escaping him. He did it well enough you came first, already so sensitive, and he soon followed.

You felt so fucken full you swear you were gonna burst, but you were just out of practice. Yuta peppered you with kisses, telling you how well you were doing. His fingers dipped into your sloppy cunt, having you get a taste of it. You certainly didn’t expect him to kiss you after, but they didn’t just play around with you. They had each other after all. You were already so overstimulated and lost, Yuta was kind enough to give you a little break before taking what was rightfully his. He had no problem playing around with your cunt for a while before dipping into the mess. He fit in nicely, having a pretty good idea how to keep you happy despite your state. He was ruthless, just as frustrated as Jaehyun, taking it all out on you and sparking you back to life. You really missed them.

Now either the orgasm or Yuta made you pass out, but either way, you blacked out for a while. When you came to you were lying on the floor with your legs up in the air, clearly having fallen off to the side of the bed. Although Jeno was happily sleeping on your tummy, sighing dreamily and clearly cozy. You giggled at the sight. Sometimes you really did forget they were all close to your age, and yet living such different lives. You let Jeno stay for a while before you realized this position was very uncomfortable. You poked Jeno’s face to make him open his eyes.

“Why didn’t you pick me up? Do you think this is comfortable?”

“You looked cute, almost like you were drunk.”

“But I’m not.”

“Well, maybe not drunk off alcohol.” Jeno giggled and got up. “We were all out of it.”

“Obviously.”

You got up, sitting down properly, well aware that you were leaking cum all over the floor, but that wasn’t for you to worry about now. Some of the others were lying in bed, and you crawled up to join them, pressing lazy kisses to exposed skin. This was all a little break for everyone. The night was still young, and even if you were four orgasms in, it was just one for each of them. They were greedy, and would certainly get what they wanted out of you, whether you were conscious or not. Waking up with a cock inside you wasn’t new, but certainly something you could picture for a night like this.

🖤

You didn’t actually wake up properly until the afternoon. After that you knew the next day would be nothing but a lazy day. Somehow you managed to get up and get into the shower, knowing you needed a deep clean. Although you dozed off until Yuta found you sitting in the tub. He had the energy to join you and help clean you up, which you were grateful for. You returned the favor as well, the two of you the first to eat lunch from room service, waiting around for the others. When you were well enough you stepped out of the penthouse so they could clean up, heading to a park to enjoy the weather and sun.

The rest of your little trip was like that. You had some more fun at night, but not too much. Besides, you’d be going off with your friends, and you didn’t need to be completely worn out. Overall it was a good trip, a good last trip, one you knew you’d never forget. When the time came they dropped you off back at Uni, wishing you well with your friends, asking you to let them know if you needed anything. You thanked them for the adventure, glad you could still have all that. It felt more authentic given that this was really you going out with them as friends, not getting paid for your company.

Of course at some point your friends had to ask about your little trip. Anyone who knew you now knew about your sugar daddies, so there was no point lying about it. You spilled what you were comfortable with, and just enjoyed your time with them. You couldn’t believe this was your last spring break, but you were so happy to have them with you. It was hard to fall asleep Sunday night, knowing what awaited you the next day, but you had enough good memories to get you through the door. So come Monday morning, you weren’t actually dead as you got to class, unlike most of your peers.

The professors weren’t all going to be kind, so it was back to work like before. This was the final stretch for you, focus and study hard, and you’d be graduating. A part of you couldn’t actually believe it, but you had to, you couldn’t fuck this up. So you put a lot off to the side, including the boys. You still texted them, but you couldn’t do any mini dates, and they were very understanding. Even if you were the one working your butt off, they were just as nervous and as excited as you were. Although all that focus distracted you from something that was just as important.

“Holy shit, I’m late.”

“What?”

“I was due like last week. Fuck.”

“Aren’t you on the pill?”

“That’s not foolproof.”

“Fair. Are you sure it isn’t stress though? I’m pretty sure I’ve missed a period or two cause of classes.”

“I don’t think I have before…”

“Well you are gonna graduate in a month. That is if you pass your finals.”

“Don’t fucken jynx it!”

“I’m just saying. You’ve probably never been stressed like this before. Athletes wind up not having a period for months cause of the stress they’re under.”

“I’m not a professional athlete.”

“Then go buy a pregnancy test and see if one of your sugar daddies is gonna be a father.”

“I wouldn’t fucken tell them. We’ve always been careful.”

“Then it’s just the stress. Problem solved. Also, don’t you have class soon?”

“Fuck. I do. I’ll get a pregnancy test later.”

“Cool, see you later.”

You really didn’t think you’d be pregnant. You were careful, for the last four years, and you were very sexually active. Mina had a point though, you were under a lot of stress with graduation, but you had to be sure. Thankfully instead of buying one you remember the boys had given you some when they got you the pills. After classes you returned and used one of the tests, relieved to see it came out negative. So it really was just stress, and you were quite amazed it could do that to your body. Regardless, that was one less thing to worry about.

To a degree you did feel bad you couldn’t see the boys after spring break, it had been quite a trip considering it was the last, but your academics were important. They wished you luck with finals, and you were ready for the last major exams of your life. You waited anxiously for the results, overjoyed that you had passed, and you were going to graduate. You had to celebrate, doing so with your friends. It was only once things wound down that you called the boys wanting to share the news.

“So, how did it go?”

“I passed… I’m graduating!”

“I knew you could do it.” Jeno cheered. “Our baby is so smart.”

“We’ve got to celebrate.” Johnny added. “Shall we pick you up?”

“I’ve already been partying, and I’m kinda spent. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Nah, it’s okay, you should rest. Don’t drink so much, okay.”

“I haven’t had a drink, can’t risk becoming a drunk mess before I take the stage.”

“Can we take you shopping!” Yuta asked. “Get you a nice dress for graduation?”

“I’d love that actually. Perhaps the one thing you guys can get me that I’ll keep.”

“If we don’t rip it off you.”

“True. Tomorrow then, shopping day.”

“We can’t wait.”

Shopping wasn’t something to make a big deal out of, but how could you all not be excited. You’d be walking across the stage in the outfit you bought today, it had to be perfect. Not to mention the five guys buying it might wanna destroy it later, so you had to get good pictures first.

“We were thinking, after the ceremony, we’d take you out to dinner.”

“The last dinner.”

“Of course.” Ten smiled. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah. It seems like a fitting end for us.”

“You better not cry.”

“I won’t.”

“Hm, guess we’ll see about that.”

The big day brought on a lot of nerves, you could barely sleep the night before. Although when the sun was up, you and Mina were already getting dolled up, and she loved your outfit.

“You look hot.”

“Thanks.”

“So you really can’t come with me for dinner.”

“I already promised the boys. It’s the last one. Besides, I wanna see what kind of graduation present they get me.”

“Oh, they’ll probably give you a lot of money. Maybe a house.”

“That’d be awesome.”

“You better tell me immediately.”

“I’m sure I won’t be able to keep it a secret from you, so don’t worry.”

Even if you looked stunning, it was mostly hidden by the gown. Still, you looked incredible and you couldn’t believe you had made it to the end. When you headed to the ceremony you looked around taking it all in. Even if you wanted your family there, you knew things had come up so they couldn’t attend. It’s why you were so happy to see the boys, knowing they were there for you. Although they did embarrass you a bit, Jeno and Yuta having a big congratulations sign, the others swinging around noise makers. Of course it dragged to wait for your name, but when it was your turn up on the stage you had the biggest smile, finding the boys in the crowd to show off too.

You had tears in your eyes, so happy that all your efforts hadn’t been in vain. The boys had made their way over to you, embracing you in their arms, congratulating you over and over again. They said your tears were cute, but they were very proud of you. They even had flowers and a graduation bear as a present for you. They wanted pictures too, so you did your best to get rid of the tears and fix your makeup. After celebrating with your other friends and seeing the ceremony to the end you headed off to eat. You weren’t really hungry from all the adrenaline, but it was your last meal with the guys, and a very important one at that.

“You looked so beautiful up there.” Johnny complimented. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you could be there.”

“Us too.”

“So, what did you get me?”

“After you eat.” Ten said. “So be a good girl and have your fill.”

“I’ll burn a hole in your wallet tonight. Just watch.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

There was something so peaceful about this meal, and exciting. They all asked about your plans going forward, what you wanted to do. Of course this was where you’d part ways, but you knew there was always a chance you’d run into each other again. Despite all the good things, you couldn’t help but wonder what your present was. After dessert they finally presented you with a little box. Now your heart was racing. It could be a key to a car or house, or maybe a card to a bank account they had made you. Still, you thanked them all and opened the box. Your smile faltered as you stared at the contents, dumbfounded.

“It’s… it’s a pregnancy test…”

“Surprise!”

“I… I don’t understand…”

“Well, you always talked about your future.” Jaehyun explained. “And how we weren’t a part of that. It really hurt, but you were right. So we figured we should include ourselves in your future.”

“I’m not… following…”

“You’re late, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I took a pregnancy test already. It came out negative. The stress-”

“The one I gave you was fake.” Ten said. “It’s meant to come out negative.”

“What… what are you…”

“The best way to become a part of your future is for you to have our kid.” Yuta stated. “Of course we’re probably not gonna know which of us is the biological father, unless you had like quintuplets, but we can raise it together.”

“What…”

“Of course we’ll cover all the expenses.” Johnny assured. “So you don’t have to worry about food, or a roof over your head, nothing. We’re gonna be a big happy family now.”

“You’re… you’re lying… you… I’m on the pill!”

“Those were also fake.” Jeno added. “A placebo thing, right? Like sugar.”

“You planned this!”

“How else were we gonna be part of your future?”

“Truth is we always imagined a future with you.” Ten admitted. “After about a year, we realized how great you were, how perfect you were for us. So when you suddenly broke it off, we couldn’t believe it, but you were also right. We never really let you know we wanted you, so that’s on us, but we’ve rectified that now.”

“You’re fucken lying!” You stood up. “You did not get me fucken pregnant!”

“Shall we go confirm that?”

You were furious, and you hated that they were throwing this idea out so casually. You took the pregnancy test and stormed off to the bathroom. They had rented out the whole restaurant, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone else. You nervously used the test, scared to look at the results, but they were clear as day.

“Positive…”

“Congratulations!!!”

The boys had followed you to the bathroom, cheering and letting off confetti poppers. You stayed frozen in shock, trying to process this.

“It’s wrong… the test…”

“You can try again.” Jaehyun threw more pregnancy tests on the floor. “Better to use more than one anyway.”

“You… you…”

“Even if there wasn’t a baby inside you right now.” Yuta explained. “We’d have plenty of time to impregnate you now that you’ve graduated.”

“No… no you’re all fucken nuts…”

You threw the test in the trash and intended to leave, only for Johnny to grab your arm, holding you back. Jeno was all over your belly, grabbing it and making baby noises.

“Easy now, baby. Now that you’re carrying our kid, we gotta take special care of you.”

“I am not having this baby!”

“That’s not up for debate.”

“It’s my body! And you fucken-”

“You think you can just play with us for four years?!” Jaehyun grabbed your chin, making you face him. “Four years, baby doll. That’s a lot of time to fall in love with a beautiful body and the girl that inhabits it. We weren’t playing, and we’re not gonna let you either. Your future is ours.”

“Fuck you! I didn’t consent to this! I’m not-” Jaehyun’s grip got tighter. “Let go…”

“You gotta be careful baby, don’t want you hurting yourself or the kid. We have a nice place picked out where we can look after you.”

“Let go!”

“Listen closely, darling.” Ten had Jaehyun let you go, stepping before you. “If anything happens to that baby, you are going to pay dearly for it. And don’t get any silly ideas in your head, you’re still young and very fertile, we have no problem tying you up and breeding you every night if something happens. So be a good girl, and smile, you’re gonna be a mother.”

“You’re crazy!”

“And you’re very hormonal, must be the baby. We should get you home.”

“No, no! Fucken let me go!”

“I can’t wait for the pregnant waddle.” Jeno cheered. “You’re gonna get so big!”

“I wonder if it’ll be a boy or girl.” Yuta said. “Maybe there’s more than one in there!”

“That’d be so cool.”

“We’re gonna be dads!”

“I can’t wait!”

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