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celestie0 · 7 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere.

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him.

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.”

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already.

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it.

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead.

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk.

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?”

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says.

You glance at the time. 11:56am.

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.”

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.”

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest.

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.”

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings.

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you.

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them.

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed.

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately.

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible.

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before.

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks.

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.”

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase.

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby.

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you.

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you.

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded.

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you.

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself.

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long.

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing.

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before.

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.”

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door.

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously.

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm.

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?”

“No. I love it.��

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?”

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious.

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him.

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how.

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it.

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters.

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly.

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.”

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been.

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly.

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too.

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you.

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.”

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly.

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck.

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area.

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.”

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?”

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.”

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.”

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?”

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him.

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back.

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear.

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake.

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

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parfaitblogs · 3 months

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peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad.

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently.

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch.

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now.

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side.

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this.

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently.

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds.

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what.

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached.

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards.

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest.

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat.

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower.

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers.

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan.

When your sobs subsided, he spoke.

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head.

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on.

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head.

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you.

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile.

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly.

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence.

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place.

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once.

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften.

"No. You're not," he reassured.

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve."

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more.

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms.

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood.

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer.

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest.

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own.

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort

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oneforthemunny · 6 months

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home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation.

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent.

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers.

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine.

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully.

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets.

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?”

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion.

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets.

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently.

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?”

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.”

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-”

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.”

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration.

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow.

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered.

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows.

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back.

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?”

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be.

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.”

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.”

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?”

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.”

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.”

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air.

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.”

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.”

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold.

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer.

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game.

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.”

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.”

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?”

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?”

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.”

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.”

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything.

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently.

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled.

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.”

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued.

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.”

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor.

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them.

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled.

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement.

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back.

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow.

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you.

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.”

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?”

“Eddie-”

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly.

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?”

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him.

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.”

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly.

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days.

It felt like home.

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place.

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle.

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you.

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar.

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

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ozai-the-bonsai · 27 days

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Could you write for Daemon targaryen like currently after all those nightmares in harnehal he finds a prisoner of harnehal as the only person who brings him peace him falling in love with her and trying to be better person he still fights for team black obviously rahaenya is definitely not happy with these arrangements especially seeing him all dedicated all in love some things he never have done for her but she have no option currently rather accepting his second wife though at the end when team black would be winning and fight at harnehal like aemond Vs Daemon she ask for reader's head happy ending at the end please or anything you wanna write I just wanna see Daemon happy in love at end please

Finally I have time for my hobbies again! Sorry I left you waiting for ages, this term the exam season was tougher than what I have been accustomed to… Anyways, I have started writing some stuff and I wanted to post the intro instead of writing a full-length chapter 1 since it would have taken a couple more days (:

As a side note, I honestly have no idea where this story will be headed because I have no clear course planned, I had some little ideas and I just started writing them. Also I will be introducing stuff which is not in the asoiaf universe.

I am continuing to read Silmarillion from where I left off and let’s say the ideas about Daemon’s love interest are… inspired from what I have been reading (; Enjoy!

Memento Mori

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language, I am not a native English speaker, reader is (or will be) described with long hair

This is a very short introduction! Also the chapter is from Daemon’s pov. The title is inspired by Memento Mori by Lamb of God (the song has been a great inspiration for the story so far)

The dungeons of Harrenhal were cold, wet and lonely.

He had no idea when, how and why he had gone down there – one moment, he was in his chambers and the next, he was opening his eyes to the mossy stone walls of the dark dungeons with a torch in his hand. The line between dreams and reality was becoming thinner each day he spent in this cursed castle.

As Daemon walked past the empty cells, he tried to shake off this unsettling feeling lingering around him, dancing on his neck on its tippy toes, making him wonder whether he was indeed alone.

I doubt Simon Strong keeps prisoners down here, he thought while wiping the water from his forehead which was dripping from the broken ceiling. Maybe he has decided to lock up the witch?

Just when the Rogue Prince – correction, the King Consort – was about to turn back and leave the depressing, humid and somewhat eerie atmosphere of the dungeons behind, a soft humming reached his ears.

A soft, sweet humming of a song coming from one of the cells at the very end of the darkness.

“What kind of prisoner is Simon Strong hiding here?” Daemon asked, his voice created echoes as he waved the torch in front of him, trying to cast some light.

The humming stopped immediately, as if the sound itself was cut by a knife.

Daemon’s purple eyes widened upon seeing that the last cell was indeed not empty.

There was a young woman inside, looking at him with her eyes full of curiosity. Her hair had an unearthly shine under the dim moonlight. She tilted her head to the side. “You can see me?” She asked, it was the same soft voice from a moment ago, though the sweetness was no longer there to be felt.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at her direction. “Do people not see you?”

The young woman shook her head, her movements – no matter how simple they were – felt almost too harmonious. “Not normally, it is not intended that I am seen.” Stopping for a moment, she eyed Daemon from head to foot. “You are not really here, are you?”

The raised eyebrow quickly turned into a frown. “What do you mean? I am standing in front of you.”

She shook her head once again. As her soft whisper filled his eyes, Daemon started falling into the nothingness, again, for the unknown-th time ever since he had come to Harrenhal.

“Wake up.”

***

When he woke up, trying to catch his breath, Daemon found himself lying on his bed, as always. Anytime he had one of those weird dreams – he wasn’t even sure if he should call them dreams anymore – his consciousness would find its way back to his bed.

Unless he was daydreaming, which were considerably the worse.

“Who the fuck was that weird woman?” Daemon muttered to himself as he stood up, dressing up in his regular robes. The feeling in his stomach was telling him that he had to go down there, to the dungeons, to find that woman. If he were to wait until dawn, he feared she might be gone.

What was it that she said again? It is not intended she is seen?

Leaving his chambers with a torch in his right hand, Daemon shook his head to the thoughts flowing through his mind, causing his silver hair to move. “Weird woman,” he muttered to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the castle with haste. “She somehow reminds me of the witch.”

The dungeons were as dark and wet as he remembered from the dream. A cold wind was wandering besides him, kissing the mossy walls and licking Daemon’s skin, sometimes whispering wicked words in his ears. Even the wind was odd here, in Harrenhal, but he had somewhat got used to it – hearing its eerie whispers whenever he walked alone during the hour of the wolf.

“Show yourself,” Daemon spoke with a strong voice which created echoes as he stood in front of that very cell from his dream. “Your king commands it!”

“Huh, king?” The same soft voice answered from the dark corner of her cell. The moonlight had left its shining spot, leaving the torch in Daemon’s hands as the only source of light in this entire corridor of the dungeons. “I answer to no king.”

A condescending scoff left Daemon’s lips as he came closer to the bars made of steel, separating him and the weird woman. “You do live in Westros, do you not?” Daemon asked, not really waiting for an answer. “As long as you breathe in this land, you do answer to the King.”

A chuckle came from the darkness. “I have been breathing in this land before your ancestors flew across the Narrow Sea, Daemon Targaryen.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa

#daemon x reader #daemon x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #hodt #hodt fic #matt smith #game of thrones #smut

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writtenbymisunderstoodnerds · 2 months

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Rock bottom (But you pulled me up) (Ingrid Engen x Reader)

I'm trying to work on my requests and WIP, but inspiration is lacking so I thought I'd try something new. This is my first time writing for someone out of the uswnt and in this style so please let me know what you think.

Warnings: Mentions of depression, anxiety, brief emotional abuse. Slightly suggestive at the end. Anything I've missed let me know.

Words: 2.8K

You could tell Ingrid was hurt, it was written all over her face. She had made you a lovely dinner and just wanted to have a movie night after not spending much time together. Yet here you were making an excuse to leave once again, you felt like a horrible girlfriend. Ingrid had taken the time to do something nice for you, but you couldn't get out of your head enough to enjoy it. Before you had the chance to get up, Ingrid uttered those three words that sent dread coursing through you. "We need to talk."

You swallowed hard before speaking, "About what?"

"You barely spend anytime with me anymore. You never message me first, we only do stuff because I organise it. I don't feel like you want me anymore. You're slipping away. Are you trying to get me to break up with you because this hurts so much more than just doing it yourself."

"No! Ingrid-" Tears stung your eyes as you tried desperately to keep it together. Afraid that if she saw how broken you were she would just leave. Things had been difficult for you lately, you were depressed, anxious and stressed. You felt so close to rock bottom, as a result you had been pulling away from Ingrid. The last thing you wanted was Ingrid to leave you, but you also didn't want to be a burden to her or scare her away with your emotions.

"Then what is it? Did I do something wrong?"

You could practically see the hope disappearing from Ingrid's eyes the longer you didn't answer, leaving hurt in its place. "I feel like when I see you, I need to be able to give you 100% of myself, of my energy and time. I can't do that right now and it makes me feel guilty. Like I'm a horrible girlfriend, that you deserve better than what I'm giving you."

Ingrid took your hand, everything in you fighting the urge to lean into her touch, to fall into the comfort you knew was waiting. If only you could bring yourself to accept it. The voices of your parents and ex-girlfriend hung in the back of your mind stopped you though. The voices that told you you were a burden to the people around you, that everyone had bigger problems to worry about and didn't care about you. The voices that told you Ingrid deserved better than you and your problems.

"Elskling, relationships don't have to be equal all the time. There's times where it'll be 50/50, but there's times where you give 90% and I'll give 10% or the other way round, sometimes it'll be 70/30 or 60/40. You get my point. What's going on? You haven't been yourself lately and it's really worrying me. Talk to me please."

You sighed pulling away from Ingrid to cross your legs under yourself, grabbing a cushion to hold. There was a part of you that thought being single would be easier, that there was less risk of hurting Ingrid that way. At the same time you knew it was those stupid little voices in the back of your mind that kept pushing that thought. You loved Ingrid more than anything in this world and deep down you knew she loved you just as much. You didn't want to let everyone else win, you didn't want to let your mind win for once in your life.

Talking about feelings was incredibly hard, it wasn't something you could do while being comforted by Ingrid or anyone really. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting lately, it's not fair to you and I know that. I-I'll try to explain it all, bu-but I need you to be patient with me. Just let me speak and not touch me, I can't do this if you do."

"Anything you need. I just need you to know that whatever you tell me, I won't ever judge you. I love you Y/n, I love you so much."

"I love you Ingrid. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that. Okay, so I um I think I need to start with why I have such a hard time letting people in, especially those I love. My family, well to put it bluntly they're assholes. They were constantly putting down everything about my sister and I, nothing we ever did was good enough. Any problems we went through were nothing to them, they always told us that people had bigger problems, that they had bigger problems and we were just adding more stress to their lives if we talked to them about anything remotely not positive. Tha-thats the short version anyway. My uh my ex was pretty similar, she would tell me that she had better things to do then deal with my trauma or depression. If I was unhappy she would turn it around, say that she wasn't enough to make me happy. Even before her, I majorly struggled with my feelings and opening up to people. Fear mostly, that's why I um haven't told you anything. Fear that I'll be too much for you and that you'll leave me."

Tears threatened to fall, but pushing them back you continued talking. "I'm really struggling right now Ingrid. My depression is the worst it's been in years. The anxiety just sits there constantly under the surface making it feel impossible to breathe. Constant doubt about if I've made the right decisions, if I'm good enough at football, if I'm good enough for you, there are so many more things I could list. Sometimes I feel like everyone would be better off if I just packed up and left. I'm so sick of feeling like this, but I don't know how to get it to stop. This is probably one of the scariest things I've ever done, but I've had already almost lost you Ingrid. I can't let them win by actually losing you. I love you so fucking much, I can't lose you Ingrid, I can't."

Tears were near pouring out of you both as Ingrid sat there for a second. When you didn't speak she must have decided you were finished talking because the next second arms wrapped around you so tightly and you completely broke. Ingrid held you tight until the sobs turned to sniffles then you feel silent. Ingrid's hold never completely let go, it was like a life line at this point.

"I love you Y/n. I loved you before and I still love you just as much now. I'm not going anywhere. Nothing your parents or ex said is true. I always want to know how and what you're feeling, I will always be here for you. No matter what your mind tells you, you are never too much for me or for the team or anyone who truly loves you. Our lives are so much better with you here so please don't even think about leaving because we will miss you. I will be here every step of the way while you figure things out, I will help you get the help you need. If you need space, I'll give you that, but if you need me here then I will always be here. I know you feel like you need to be giving me all of yourself, all of your energy, but you don't. Even if you can just give me 1% until you get over this bump in the road then that's enough for me. You are enough for me Y/n."

"I think there will be times when I need to be alone, but most of the time I just really want to be with you. I need to work on accepting that I deserve your love and comfort so I actually seek it out when I need it or want it. Some reassurance every now and then will help I think. Can we talk about the next steps tomorrow? I just want you to hold me right now."

"I will give you all the reassurance you need and more. Have you eaten today?" Ingrid asked, but the look in her eyes told you she knew the answer so you just shook your head. "Okay, I'm going to order some food while we cuddle here then we can go to bed."

True to her word, Ingrid held you tightly while you lay on the couch, staying close to your side during dinner and as you got ready for bed. "Thank you, for everything you've done, for being here, for loving me."

Ingrid kissed you softly, before pulling away and leaving soft kisses over your face, "Always."

Lying in bed later that night, head resting against Ingrid's chest, you decided to admit the one thing that kept swirling around your mind, "I think I need to take a break from football. Not the training, I think that helps me, but games. The pressure that comes from each game feels like weight being added. Makes me feel like I'm being dragged further down into this hole."

"Okay, if that's what you feel you need then we can talk to the coaches or Ale and she can sort it out. I know the thought of telling anyone else what is going on is scary, but Ale or anyone else on the team aren't going to judge you or think any less of you because of it."

"I think maybe we can talk to Alexia, not tell her everything, but the jist of it."

"I'll be by your side when you're ready." ---

It had been a few weeks since the talk with Ingrid and since you made the decision to stop playing in games for a while. The only person who knew why was Alexia, it was clear that everyone else was worried, but until now you hadn't felt ready to tell them and thankfully they didn't push.

There was still a long way to go, but things had been slowly getting better over the last few weeks. You had started seeing the team therapist multiple times a week and had restarted medication for the time being at least. Everything was starting to become clearer, you weren't as anxious all the time, you were becoming more willing to talk to Ingrid, to actually spend time with her without worrying about not being enough, and smiles and laughs were becoming more genuine when they did happened.

The team had been amazing despite not knowing what was going on, they were as supportive and loving as ever. So you decided it was time to let them in a little bit. You squeezed Ingrid's hand, getting her attention as you spoke quietly, "Can you get their attention please? I know they're worried about me and I think I'm ready to tell them."

"Hey! Can we have your attention for a minute."

Once everyone's attention was on you, the anxiousness started to creep in, but with Ingrid's hand still firmly holding yours, you took a deep breath and spoke, "I know you've all be wondering why I've effectively benched my self the last couple of weeks and I want to be honest about it. I've uh I've been um struggling a lot mentally at the moment and I decided I needed a break. The pressure was too much, I couldn't handle it on top of everything else. So uh yeah, I don't want you guys to keep worrying about me."

It was quiet for a few seconds before many arms wrapped themselves around you, mumbled we love you's and we're proud of you's were heard as you sunk into the arms of your teammates. Surprisingly, Mapi was the first to pull away, cupping your cheeks as she spoke uncharacteristically softly, "You keep doing what you're doing and come back to us when you're ready. You always have is in your corner Y/n. We are so proud of you and we love you. If there's anything you ever need you can come to us okay?"

"Thank you Mapi. Thanks all of you." --- A few months had passed and you were finally feeling like yourself again. There were still hard days, you were pretty sure there always would be, but you were genuinely happy again most of the time. You found yourself more willing to open up to not just Ingrid, but some of the other girls you were closest to. It was safe to say your life was pretty well back on track, there was just one thing left to do and that was get back to football. You hadn't told anyone of your plans to start playing games again, you had just been put in the line up as a sub, but after conversations with the coaching staff you knew you were likely to come in at half time.

When the line up came out, Alexia was the first to notice and speak up effectively getting everyone else's attention, "Y/n?"

"Yes Ale?"

"Is there anything you want to tell us?"

Ingrid looked at you confused as you shrugged trying to be as innocent as possible while knowing exactly what she was talking about. "Oh really? Well how about the small fact that your name is on the substitute list again?"

"Oh yeah. That is a thing I guess."

Smiles grew on everyone's faces as it clicked what was happening. Ingrid practically jumped on you repeating over and over how proud she was, kisses placed over your faces. The team joined not long after, everyone cheered and congratulated you.

"Okay okay, you can let go of me now. Yes I finally feel ready to come back."

Once everyone had let you go, Alexia pulled you up into a hug. Since she found out about your struggles, Alexia had been amazing. She was always subtly checking in whether you were at training or not, she would pull you away when everything got too overwhelming and Ingrid was busy, making some excuse so know one else would know the truth. Alexia was always just there in a way that was subtle and comforting. "Well we're so so glad you're back. I'm so proud of you Y/n."

"Thank you Ale, for everything."

As soon as your foot hit the pitch, you felt the excitement, adrenaline and happiness that you thought may have been gone for good. You felt yourself falling in love with football all over again, it was like the final weight had fallen from your shoulders. There would always be bad days or even bad weeks, you knew that, but with Ingrid, your family and your new found coping mechanisms, you finally felt ready to face them.

---

You arms wrapped around Ingrid as she chopped the vegetables, she briefly turned to kiss your cheek before going back to her task. "Hi Elskling, you played really well today. How did it feel?"

"Hey love. It felt incredible, I know I needed a break, but man did I miss it. Anyway, enough about me I have a surprise for you. I was originally going to give it to you after dinner, but I can't wait anymore. Here." You replied, placing an envelope on the counter in front of her. You could never express how thankful you were for everything Ingrid had done for you over the last few months, for sticking by your side through everything. So instead you had decided to start with a few days away in Venice. It was something she had wanted to do for a while and you decided to make it happen.

Ingrid looked at you for a second before opening the envelope, a smile appearing as she looked at the tickets inside. "What's this?"

"I know what you're going to say to this, but I am so thankful for everything you've done for me. Sure we've spent a lot of time together, but it hasn't been the quality, good time you deserve. So you and I are going to spend a few days alone in Venice in a couple of weeks when we have a bit of time off. Now I don't want to hear any buts or I didn't have to do this, just say you're excited and give me a kiss."

Ingrid cupped your cheeks, allowing you to press her against the counter as she pulled you in for a lingering kiss. Just as Ingrid went to pull away, you cupped the back of her neck pulling her back in as the kiss grew heated. You didn't want to say that you stopped enjoying Ingrid's kisses because that's impossible, it was just intimacy beyond cuddling between the two of you had dropped off to almost nothing the last few months. There were still short kisses here and there, but you couldn't get out of your head long enough to actually be present for anything more and that wasn't fair to Ingrid. Your lips moved along her jaw as a quite moan slipped past Ingrid's lips.

"Di-dinner," Ingrid moaned as your hand slipped under her shirt.

Ingrid's legs wrapped around your waist as you walked back to the bedroom, "Dinner can wait."

#ingrid engen #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x reader #woso

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dr-spectre · 14 days

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So.... This game is 2 years old now huh?

Honestly... I don't think i have a TON to say about this game. It's just a great ass fucking video game that has given me a lot of fun and great memories!

This game came out during my final year of school, which is kinda funny considering that Splatoon 3 acts like a "finale" to a trilogy. It's interesting how those kinds of things work out eh? Splatoon 2 came out at the start of my secondary education, and Splatoon 3 came out at the tail end of my final year.

I remember thinking before the game came out, "why do we need a Splatoon 3? This is pointless, it's just more Splatoon 2." And then my mind was quickly changed once i got to play the Splatfest test fire and the actual game itself.....

I completed ROTM in such a short amount of time and i documented my reactions to my friends. Although i was spoiled in that Deep Cut had boss fights and Mr. Grizz was the final boss, ROTM still gave me a giant smile to my face all the way through. It was so fun, so charming and just a really good single player experience.

One of the things that i LOVE about Splatoon 3 is the vibe. I just love the location of Splatsville, i love the aesthetics, the lighting, the model improvements from Splatoon 2, the music, it's my favourite art style/aesthetic out of any of the Splatoon games by far. It just feels so polished, i don't know how to exactly describe it.

Also the fact that this game won best multiplayer game of 2022 over CALL OF DUTY! OVERWATCH 2 AND MULTIVERSUS MAKES ME SO GIDDY AND HAPPY!

PEOPLE GOT MAD ABOUT THIS AND THAT MAKES ME WANNA EVIL LAUGH! All of those fucking depressed and sad Call of Duty players who whine and complain about how "wahh modern gaming sucks!! There's no good games anymore wahhh!! It's all microtransactions wahhh!!" BITCH! SPLATOON 3 IS LITERALLY THE GAME YOU'VE BEEN ASKING FOR!! Yet you won't play it because it's on Nintendo huh? Yeah... You're a fucking PUSSY!! YOU'RE WEAK!! You're SCARED to be seen as less of a manly man!! You only wanna play games with oily dirty buff men.... Yet you call others who play games like Splatoon gay? Hmm..... Sounds like you're a wittle insecureeeeee!!!!

Have fun rotting in microtransaction hell you LOSERS!! GAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways.... uh.... sorry....

I also fucking love Deep Cut too. I thought i wasn't gonna like these guys and i remember thinking when i first saw them "oh... okayyyy..."

But now? I love these bastards.

I love their dynamic and how they are bandits but they actually wanna help the people back in Splatsville. That is such a cool and unique take to have for Idol characters. The Squid Sisters are very cutesy and so are Off the Hook, but Deep Cut aren't. They are loud, messy, chaotic, in your face, rude, etc. They are about contrast and the character designers did a phenomenal job at conveying that theme via their backgrounds and looks.

Another thing that i love about Splatoon 3 is that it also acts as a celebration of things that have come before, Inkopolis Plaza and Square return as hubs, old colour combos from previous games act as loading screens, most of the music returns in the jukebox, it rewards long time fans for sticking around and for a long running franchise IT'S SUPER IMPORTANT to have that stuff!!!

Seeing the improvements in the model quality from Splatoon 1 to 3 genuinely makes me kinda emotional, it shows how far we've come in just a little under 10 years...

It really homes in on the point that... These characters, have grown up with us.... The Squid Sisters are about to reach their mid 20s, Pearl is nearly 30 fucking years old!!!

And the last thing i wanna bring up before i talk about the Grand Fest...

...Is Side Order.

This fucking DLC... My god... Being able to experience it by myself and just enjoy the stuff i was seeing, being able to SCREAM AND CRY AS MUCH I WANT WAS SO IMPORTANT TO ME DUDE!

When i got to the 10th floor in the tutorial and i saw Marina Agitando staring me down.... I did the loudest gasp a human could possibly do and my jaw was hung to the floor for a solid MINUTE!

Marina's first fucking dev diary made me cry and scream, THAT IS NOT A JOKE!!!! THESE CHARACTERS ARE THAT IMPORTANT TO ME!

And the final boss.... Made me cry, it broke me down, i was singing along to Ebb and Flow as best as i could, it felt like i was brought back to 2018, being in my room, listening to that song on repeat... I feel like a kid again....

I love this song... i love it so much... Like it's not the most hype finale song ever, but, the emotion behind it, the build up from Splatoon 2... The power this song has in it's meaning... It's some good shit man...

youtube

So yeah! I love Splatoon 3!!! It's my favourite game out of the series and anyone who is gonna jump into this game now is gonna have a LOT to chew on.

And... It's both sweet and sad that we're at the end. This is it... The moment we've been waiting for. The final Splatfest to end them all. The event 9 years in the making.

The Grand Festival...

I am extremely excited and so FUCKING NERVOUS for this Splatfest!!!! I know i am going to cry and be so overwhelmed with joy. Seeing the Squid Sisters and Off the Hook perform their old songs again after all of these years is gonna make me sob so loudly it's not even funny.

These characters genuinely mean the world to me and it's gonna be so fucking hard for me to watch their final major appearance and say goodbye. Cause after this, we don't know what's gonna happen. I know they will come back, they have to but... In what capacity? That's what I'm scared about...

So yeah, let's savior this moment when it eventually arrives, take all the time you need to be engulfed in the Grand Fest.

Thank you Splatoon 3, you have given me so much.... It's not time to say goodbye just yet but, i wanna watch you as you walk into the sunset with your head held high....

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rubra-wav · 6 months

Text

Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Pentious, Alastor, and Lucifer x a concerningly unstable, younger reader

@pandaquick

A/N : reader is still written to be 18ish

I took creative liberties with this, so I'm sorry if I've taken that a bit in the wrong direction w this one!

The song 'Mama's Boy' came on while I was deciding where I'll take this one and kinda made me start feeling some type of way/lh

You didn't really specify what type of unstable they are, so I went with depression type presentations for that

Cw: SFW, very slight references to past self-destructive behaviour, gn!reader, platonic, hurt/comfort, found family-ish (in all these except for Alastor's)

Charlie

- When you show up at the hotel, she's absolutely elated to have a new resident! Especially one who's new to hell and thus hasn't built up sky-high walls to everyone due to the harsh climate.

- When you disclose why you ended up here, she's utterly horrified.

- The idea someone could be condemned to this place which reeks of burning flesh at all times for something so stupid is truly exasperating.

- She almost has doubt creep into her mind about her dream when she hears the truth about your being in hell, but quickly flips it into positivity as it means you're easy to redeem.

- As you become closer and start opening up after feeling more comfortable, Charlie quickly becomes very concerned for your well-being.

- Sweeps you into her arms while trying (and failing) to not cry as she hears about the kinds of horrible thoughts going on often for you.

- From then on, if she ever notices you becoming withdrawn or particularly sensitive/unstable she will try to convince you to talk it out with her.

- If that's not something you're into? She just tries to distract you and sweep you along with her as she discusses possible activities for the hotel and other random stuff.

- At some point she starts becoming a caretaker to you emotionally and doesn't really even notice herself start to step into essentially becoming motherly towards you.

- She's just really afraid for you at times and wants to take care of you!

- You're also a fair bit younger than the people around you (including her), so even with you being an adult technically yourself she still slips into that kind of attitude.

Vaggie

- When you show up she can tell something is up under everything pretty quickly.

- She's dealt with a fair lot of mental anguish over the years so she can see the cracks in your mental state even before you feel comfortable openly discussing it.

- Will not approach it with you, but will do indirect things for you to try help you practically like making extra food for you as she cooks or reminding you to drink water if those are things you seem to struggling.

- Vaggie isn't the emotionally supportive type, so when she tries to be it seems awkward. She is genuine about it, though.

- Openly face palms when she hears that you got sent here for something so little. 'Classic heaven.' She'd grumble under her breath before apologising for you being sent to hell for something so stupid. (Confusing you and making her start sweating a bit because she's meant to be a demon not an angel-)

- As you start opening up more and more, she becomes even more practical in helping you out upon actually knowing what exactly you need.

- Feels incredibly concerned upon hearing the true extent to your instability and probably has some angst over not being emotionally warm as she would like to be.

- You two bond over mutual terrible experiences, and she essentially becomes a mentor-like figure to you.

- This turns more personal, though, as Charlie starts mothering you.

- Eventually you're essentially adopted by Vaggie and Charlie - they both work together to try to help you manage stuff and stay stable.

Angel

- Initially he'd be neutral to you most likely, just making the same sarcastic comments (albeit not suggestive. Even he has limits from what he's comfortable doing with his persona)

- When he hears how you got here, he just squints at you with a humourless laugh.

- The idea of someone being mostly non-sinful outside of ONE tiny, idiotic reason ending up in this shithole around people who are horrid abusers, to murderers, to every horrible thing possible is fucked.

- After discovering this, he'd be slightly inclined to be protective of you. Only slightly though initially. He can hardly support himself with his own baggage.

- This changes, though, after he learns of your history of self destruction and overall fragility as a demon.

- It's hard for him. He sees so much of himself in you - especially after just getting to hell.

- Despite his more logical thoughts of not trying to care for you, he does genuinely become extremely protective.

- You're the exact type of person who would be taken advantage of here, and he just wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he didn't even try to divert that from happening.

- He's not really the emotional support type, but he'd try to take your mind off of things with other activities. (Watch this man stumble trying to figure out age-appropriate activities for someone he sees as a kid in comparison to himself even if you're technically a legal adult.)

- In the streets, you have him armed to the teeth next to you at most times. It's funny to think about Angel trying to be scary dog privilege, but he actually is when he wants to be.

- Doesn't mother you or act as a guidance figure to you - god knows he is no good example - but he is gonna take out everyone in this bitch if anything happens to you.

Husk

- The second he meets you, he can see what's going on under everything, but he doesn't approach it at all.

- He's been a bartender collecting sob stories for years. He knows how to spot someone who is cracking under the surface or itching to tell their story or problems.

- He almost feels a prickle of empathy for your situation. Someone so young falling into hell of all places, clearly troubled, is a terrible situation. It's squashed the second he realises that you surely are sinful enough to have ended up here.

- As you reveal that your 'sin' was actually tiny however he curses as he actually now feels bad for you. I mean, come on, you're barely an adult, and you’ve been condemned for your whole afterlife for something so utterly small? He's losing the no heart impression he puts out.

- It scares him a bit honestly, so he avoids you like the plague. He'd rather ignore the pain someone like you being here brings him.

- Unfortunately, that doesn't work out as you come to him after a long day and break down at the counter of his bar. As he offers you an ear, he truly is annoyed at himself.

- Because oh god, he cannot take care of you, but he wants to help you.

- He tries to keep you at arms length as he eventually gives in to his want to try and help you out. Key word: tries.

- He's very rough around the edges in his approach, but he essentially steps in like a kind of really done, grumpy uncle who's always fretting over your wellbeing.

- He hates that he actually gives a shit but he would be incredibly restless if he didn't try to help or make sure you're okay.

- Ironically, he'd be telling you not to drink your problems away. Would be awkwardly giving examples of other coping mechanisms he'd learnt from Charlie's speeches about addiction.

- He's a hypocrite, but he doesn't care. It makes his bitter heart heavy to think of you getting into the vices he uses to cope.

- Also another one who is incredibly protective. Treats you like you're made of glass honestly.

Pentious

- He finds you strange mostly and is probably the most obviously curious out of everyone here about you and how you came to be here.

- Is asking the most questions even if they are tone deaf as it gets. How did you end up here? How did you die? Why are you moderately normal as compared to the other residents? (A comment which gets him a giant 'fuck you' and 'have you looked at yourself?' From everyone else around)

- He prods you into divulging information and is immediately protective of you from the second he learns that not only are you not really a sinner at all, but you are also quite fragile mentally.

- Someone like you should not be allowed to be tainted by hell's climate. He hides it behind him 'looking out for princess Charlie's dream', but he is truly afraid for you, and it's embarrassing to him.

- Is constantly all up in your business and trying to make sure you are well and okay.

- He's so paranoid that you're not alright that checking in on you almost becomes a compulsion for him. You've gotta end up reassuring him that you're just fine and that he doesn't need to be so worried.

- Absolutely a practical caretaker but is also big on physical touch as comfort.

- If you're ever crying or not feeling good, he will get you stuff and then he just straight up wraps his tail around you and pats your hair while telling you it's going to be okay.

- If you're ever out and he's with you, his immediate instinct is to try throw hands with anyone who looks at you mildly wrong. Due to not having his weapons anymore, he gets his ass beat doing this.

- When he's unable to be around you, he's going to have his eggs with you to help you out if you need anything.

- Really does turn into a worried mother over being like a father more than anything.

Alastor

- Unlike the others, he would see you solely as an opportunity.

- There's no cute found-family part here. He will use you.

- It would be so easy to convince you to enter into a deal with him as someone vulnerable and inexperienced with hell. He can see how fragile you are under the surface the second you get to the hotel more then just about everyone there.

- Everyone else would be pulling you away from him because it's so obvious you are nothing but easy pickings for him that it's not even funny.

- Would be very genuinely interested in how someone like you ended up in hell though.

- He got here by murdering and exploiting people in every way possible for his own entertainment. How could someone so seemingly innocent get here?

- Openly laughs when he hears your story of sin. He truly pities you getting sent down into hell with people him.

- You avoid him because you can see his intentions on your own, just as much as the people around you are telling you to stay away.

- He, of course, doesn't let that happen. He just likes to show up and watch you fumble through hell like you're prime entertainment.

- He may sometimes help you, but it's only because he just thinks the sight of you struggling is that pathetic to him.

- It may slowly become more of a fondness for you and your company, but the underlying reason for his kind behaviours to you is nothing good.

- He just wants to own you like an item, see how long it takes for someone so pure as a demon to break, and become just as bad as the rest of them.

Lucifer

- Unlike everyone else who are concerned for you, he sees you and instantly slips into dadTM mode with you, and this only deepens the more he learns about you.

- You almost remind him of how he is with how different you are from all of the other demons, and he feels genuine guilt that someone like you has ended up here.

- If he had never done what he did, you would be up in heaven and not condemned to this hell-hole. He doesn't think you should be down here at all for such a tiny mistake you made in your life.

- When he realises you are also really unstable and vulnerable he's going to be terrified for you.

- Especially with someone like Alastor looming over you at all times.

- He was already getting his shit back together when he began to mend things with Charlie, but he straightens up even more when he meets you and starts growing attached quickly.

- He's initially a bit distant despite his want to try care for you because he's already mending things with Charlie, but Charlie actually encourages him to reach out to you.

- She's essentially your unofficial mum in the hotel, but she's far from perfect at that, so she would like it if he would help however he could.

- Very emotionally supportive with you after he gets to be openly caretaking to you.

- He's still a bit awkward as he's essentially there getting his shit together alongside trying to help you out, but he tries to help wherever he can.

- Will absolutely love it if Charlie, Vaggie, you and him could do activities together for fun.

- He's also scary dog privilege 100%. His worry for you would likely come off as him seeming like he's going to absolutely drop demons and scare the living shit out of them.

Masterlist

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luciferlightbringer · 7 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 12

Hey! I'm so sorry that this chapter took a while! This week was a lot and smut takes a lot of energy for me to write because I care about the details and all. But now it is here! Also, I was gonna put a more cute/loving gif of Lucifer for for this one but then I saw this was and I couldn't stop laughing, so here we are. Enjoy~

Chapter 11|Chapter 12 (FINAL CHAPTER)

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 5.3 k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, kissing, SMUTTTT (penetration, oral, handjobs, sub/dom, sex toys)

By the end of the day, all your things had been moved over to the hotel. Lucifer had offered to put your things in his room, but you had asked for your own, both because you wanted to have your stuff separate for now... and part of you wanted a separate place to be if you after Lucifer ever had issues come up. You didn't anticipate it happening, but the anxiety that came with a new relationship, especially your first healthy one, left you needing some time to adjust. Lucifer, being the good man that he was, respected it, but not without a little pouting, but you reassured him that you would still be spending every night sleeping by his side.

By the end of the day, you were tired, and honestly, so was Lucifer. The physical and emotional toll of the day had caught up to the both of you and you went to bed early that night. Snuggling up in each other's arms.

The next morning, Lucifer woke up early, excited, with a plan for the day. Lucifer got up and got dressed for the day, gave you a swift kiss on the lips as you laid half awake in bed and whispered, "I have some things I need to do today, but see you later. Ok? You're booked out with me starting dinner time, got it?" You nodded sleepily. He kissed you again, deeper this time. "I love you, Duckie." And then he left to go pick up supplies for his plan with you later.

A little bit later, you finally woke up and laid in Lucifer's- Lucifer and YOUR's bed... that would take some while to get used to. You heard a faint sound of commotion down in the lobby. You decided to get up to see what all the commotion was about, throwing on a basic shirt and shorts. It had been forever since you had gotten to have a slow day and wear clothes that weren't required to make you look like a sex toy, the change was really nice.

You skip downstairs to come face to face with a couple of familiar faces... some of your friends from the brothel! Gemma, Natalie, and Katrina, had all come also wanting to move into the hotel and give redemption a try. They saw how Lucifer and the others had fought for you, and they wanted in on that kind of support, even if they were still going to work at the brothel. You hugs them all and cried happy tears.

"You, uhhh... wouldn't be willing to spare one more hug, would ya, Babydoll?" You turned around at the familiar voice to see Larry standing behind you.

"Larry!" you hugged him, "What are you doing here?"

"Well.." he said sheepishly, "Truthfully, I've been losing the heart to run that brothel over the last several decades... Although business is already up a lot since it got out the Lucifer used my place, haha! We will see what happens... I am still running it, but... I might not be trying to find any new girls is all. Learning about this hotel here... gave me something else to try out... if... you are ok with me being here... that is..."

You smiled at Larry and hugged him again, "Of course I am! Every sinner is welcome here! Just one thing though... my new boyfriend might not be too fond of you calling me Babydoll anymore."

Larry laughed, "Fair enough, wouldn't want to upset him, I already know what that looks like, yeeshh," he said playfully pulling at his collar, "How about just 'doll'?" You nodded with a laugh, "That should work". You helped Larry and the other girls move in most of the day. Luckily you were distracted enough that you did not see Lucifer pop in and out the the hotel several times with supplies.

Eventually it came dinner time and you went off to your own room, to shower and get dressed for the event with Lucifer that night. You walked into your room to find a beautiful black and red dress with matching shoes and a bag next to it with a note saying:

Got you a little something for our first official date, I hope you like it. Love, Luci <3

Your heart swelled, you had no idea how your life had ended up like this, but you were the happiest you had ever been. You sighed happily and went to take a quick shower, did your hair with simple makeup and put on the dress. It fit your dimensions perfectly, like scary perfectly, and had no tag.

Did he have this made for you? This was going to be a lottttt to get used to, you were dating a King. Oh my god, you were dating a King. No... you were dating Lucifer, he could have been a sinner just like anyone else and it wouldn't matter to you. He could fall to an even darker pit of Hell and you would follow him. This must have been how Lilith felt all those years ago. You finished getting ready and you heard a knock on your door at your usual time.

You went to go open the door and saw Lucifer standing in front of you, wearing a more simple suit that was still just as sexy as his normally outfit, but with more black and red details to match you. As you catch his view, he catches yours, and you both look at each other with jaws agape as you take in each other's beauty. Lucifer was so happy that the dress fit you, and in all. the. right. ways. He gave you a prideful smile.

"I'm glad I got the measurements correct," he said with a smirk.

"So it was custom made, how did you know my dimensions?" you smirked back at him.

Lucifer raked his eyes up and down your body, "I'm just... good with spacial awareness." He wiggled his eyebrows.

You chuckled and nodded with a cheeky smile, "Wow, I never thought such a nerdy sentence could sound so hot~" you purred.

Lucifer got a little flustered, "Oh shut up," he grabbed your hand and putted you into a deep kiss. You two stood in the kiss and embrace for a few minutes before Lucifer pulled away, breathing heavily.

"I don't want to get too ahead of myself, we have an itinerary to keep to" Lucifer says as he taps his cane on the floor. Before you can ask what he meant, he teleports the both of you to a secluded room with large windows that overlook the Pride Ring, music softly playing in the background, Swan Lake.

You looked at the view and smiled, "All this for me?" you ask.

"Oh this is just the beginning of our night, my love. And yes, you deserve this and much much more," he kissed both of your hands before taking you to your chair. You and Lucifer ate dinner together, spent hours listening to music, flirting, and eventually got up and started dancing together. This made Lucifer think about how things used to be with Lilith, but he could appreciate that it was different, it was with you.

He dips you and kisses you deeply, running his hands down your frame. His body had been aching for yours all day during the preparations for the night, but he knew he had to be patient just a little longer. We wanted so desperately to claim you, but also, to fill you with all the love and pleasure that he could muster. It was the least you deserved.

Lucifer pulls his head back to be able to look at you as you look up at him, his eyes full of love as he smiled down at you, "I love you my darling, and from this day on, I will make sure you never go a day in your life where you doubt that."

You felt tears well in your eyes, "I love you too, King of Hell, King of my heart. I will do everything in my power to be by your side and love you." You kiss him again as he ends the dip, standing you back upright.

"Are you ready for the rest of the evening?" He said with some flirty mischief in his eyes, wiggling his eyebrows again.

You tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, "Oh I am."

Lucifer tapped his cane and you both teleported back to the hotel, in front of your door. "I have one more outfit for you tonight, get changed and come to our room in ten minutes," he asked trying to hide the excitement in his eyes at his plans for you. You nodded.

Lucifer kisses you again, deeper than all of the others, barely able to keep himself from taking you right there in the hallway. He parts and walks back to the room he called both of yours. You smiled and watched him walk away before going into your room. On the bed was another new outfit, who had put that there while you were gone? It was Angel, Angel wanted to help

On your bed, was a simple but elegant robe, the type of robe you would find at a spa or something, and nothing else. What was he up to? Before putting on the robe you also put on a set of lingerie that you had gotten a while ago, just for him to see if he had ever wanted to have sex with you back when he was still paying for your time, but now he got to see it for free, and that made you even happier.

You slipped on the robe, and after ten minutes, you walked down to your shared room with Lucifer and knocked on the door. Lucifer called for you to come in, and you opened the door to the room filled with lit candles, rose petals on the floor, a table over on the side that had stuff on it covered in a cloth, and Lucifer standing near the side of the bed, also wearing a robe that matched yours, this hat and cane off to the side. All you were able to see was his chest exposed down to the V in the robe and his black arms up to his elbows and his black legs to to the knee where they started to transition to white.

You laughed as you walked into the room towards Lucifer, "What is all this?"

Lucifer looked you over, Hells he wanted to rip that robe off of you, "Well... I wanted this all to be special. I know I could just toss you on the bed and probably have my way with you but... I want this to feel different... I don't this to feel like just another job... I want it to feel like love."

His words left a pang in your heart, you got close and cupped his face "You don't have to do all of this for me to feel like that, everything about you makes this feel like love... frankly... I struggled most of the time to see you as just a client... after a while I hated that you were because I wanted for it all to be real."

"Just for both of us to find out it was real the whole time," he said as he nuzzled into your hand, "I love you, and I'm going to spend the reset of the night and every day after showing you just how much I do." Lucifer then pulled you into a deep kiss. Both of you start to explore each other's bodies with your hands a little before Lucifer stops you again.

"Hells, you make it so hard to stop, but I have a plan here," he clears his throat, he is already shaking a little out of excitement and nerves, "You have spent a lot time using your body for others and I want to make you feel good, so I was going to give to a message. Does that sound ok?"

You melted, hell he was sweet and really hot, how could he possibly get more hot? "That sounds amazing actually..."

Lucifer's eyes lit up, "Great! And then uhh... whenever we move on to other activities... I may have uhh... gone with Asmodeus to get like... a bunch of new toys! Hahah... we don't have to use them now, if you don't want to. I just wanted us to have options..." he said pointing over at the covered table on the side.

You looked over at the table and then back at him with lust and mischief filled eyes, tucking a hair behind his ear, "We should probably get the massage started before I start perusing those toys," you purred.

Lucifer's face turn red and his loins stir, he gulps hard as he walked you over to the bed. As you laid down, you looked at Lucifer as you slowly shrugged off your robe and tossed it to the side, leaving you in only your lingerie as you laid down on the bed with your back and ass to the sky. Lucifer raked his eyes across your body and gulped hard again, this is the first time he had seen you this exposed since the night you met, and the memories alone did not do you justice.

He jumped up on the bed beside you, swiping your hair away from your back and covering his hands in massage oil before starting to rub into your back, and beginning his goal of feeling every inch of your body with his hands. He started to work his way down your shoulders, neck, lower back, and it felt amazing for him to touch and for you to experience.

As he moved his hands around your curves, he looked for points of tension and pain, and used a little magic to help in aiding his hands in relaxing you and making your body feel good. His touch feels incredible to you, even without the magic, and you can't help but moan and sigh as he worked your muscles. The attention he gave your back alone was already enough to get you turned on, even though you already had been pretty turned of from all the kisses, but you felt yourself starting to get more wet.

Lucifer held back a moan as he hear you start to sigh at the pleasure of his hands on you. He loved that he was making you feel good, making you feel pleasure. He wanted to worship you, your body. Your body was the alter to the entity that he now wanted to worship for the rest of his life. He felt himself already start to get drunk off the feeling of your soft skin, your beautiful muscles and curves. His hands started to explore more down an arm, down to your hand, working at your palm and trailing kisses down from your shoulder to your wrist before moving to the other arm and repeating the process there before doing the same down each leg.

You continue to moan and sigh as he moved across your body. The massage felt so good but your pussy continued to ache for him, every time he got close to your entrance, you started to shake and moan more. This was not lost on Lucifer, he loved seeing you quiver beneath him, and he wanted to badly to just dive into you... but not quite... he needed to torture you a little more.

He quickly snapped the back of your lingerie top and before you had time to talk, he quickly flipped you over and got on top of you. He straddled you as he slowly undid the tie on the front of his robe and slipped it off of him, leaving him completely exposed above you. You were now able to see the entirely of his well sculpted body, chest, back, hips... and his cock that was already hard and erect for you. Hells it looked incredible, you just wanted it in... so many places... He gave you a long and passionate kiss, with some exchanging of saliva between your mouths, tongues exploring each other before he starts to work to massage to front of your body.

The touch on your front was much more sensual thought than it had been on your body. Lucifer slowly kissed down your neck, your collarbone, your chest, down to you breasts. Lucifer removed the lingerie top the rest of the way before massaging around your breasts, playing with your nipples, kissing and nipping around one, before putting his mouth on it and sucking on it. The nerves in your nipples felt like they were on fire and that each flick of his tongue made your loins start to throb as you groaned. You started to weave you finger though his blonde hair tugged at it a little. He took his time before moving over at repeating the process on your other nipple.

You felt like you were going crazy with lust at this point, you had never been so desperate for someone to enter inside of you. You opened your legs a little, hoping for him to take the hint to just dive in... to devour you.

Lucifer chuckled to himself as he felt your legs shift open, he decided it was time to start ending your torment. As he finished his attention on your second breast, he traced a hand down your stomach and down to your mound, moving the fabric of your thong out of the way before starting to tease your entrance.

You start to pant and groan louder, "Luci, baby please... Please touch me... put your fingers in me... I can't take it... Mmmm.... pleas-uhhH!!!!" You moan louder as he cuts you off mid-plea by sliding a finger into you, and starting to pump it in and out. He was now able to feel just how wet you were.

"Mmm, all of this wetness for me? With how much fucking you do, I wouldn't think you would be such a dripping mess for me, I'm so honored," he purred as he stared up at you from your chest, mischievous lust dancing across him face, burning in his eyes. Slowly, Lucifer added a second and then a third finger into your dripping hole as he continued to finger you and he continued to kiss and nip his way down your stomach and down your thighs. curling his fingers up into your G-spot making you cry out with pleasure.

As soon as his mouth reached your thighs, he removed his fingers, getting better access to bite and kiss his way up your thighs towards your dripping mound, he was pussy drunk just looking at your gorgeous entrance. He looked up into your eyes as be positioned his mouth just above your folds.

"Oh my love, every inch of you is the most exquisite and radiant treasure... are you ready for my tongue to ruin you?" Lucifer growled.

"Yes... Luci, yes please... ruin me... eat me..." you whispered.

Lucifer gave you a wicked smile, "Good... because I've been starving since the day I met you, and it's time for me to eat my fill." Lucifer then enclosed his mouth around your folds and starts to swipe his tongue up and down your entrance before plunging his tongue deep into you.

You let out a scream of pleasure as his tongue assaults your entrance, it was incredible and he had barely started. Every touch from him set your body on fire. You grabbed onto Lucifer's golden locks as he lapped at you with a vicious hunger, as if he had not eaten in eons and your juices were his only source of food. Your screams of pleasure made him rock hard and he started to grind his own crotch against the bed to alleviate some of the need.

Seeing this, you make the decision that you wanted to take a more active role in the pleasure. You figure out how to flip Lucifer on his back, which caught him my surprise, and then you crawled up onto him so that you were hoovering your pussy over his face and were able to get access to his dick.

Lucifer grinned wildly at the sight of your mound hoovering above him, and grabbed both of your thighs to encourage you down until his mouth locked onto your folds again and his tongue was about to gain access to the inside of you again.

At the same time, you reached down and grabbed his dick, which caused Lucifer to moan deeply beneath you. As you started to stroke him more, Lucifer moaned more, and started to thrust his hips up into your hand. You guys try to match each other's pace with each other's pace of licking and pumping.

Lucifer pulled out his favorite trick, which was elongating his tongue inside of you and snaking it around until he heard you sharply inhale, indicating that he had once again found the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. He locked in on that spot and gave it as much attention as he could muster, even though he was finding it a little harder to focus due to the incredible feeling of your gorgeous soft hands on his throbbing shaft.

You and Lucifer continued like this for a while, an symphony of moans and sighs building between the two of you until you couldn't take it anymore, you needed him inside of you.

"Luci... uhhh... baby I need you... Oh hells... I need to feel you inside of me.." You sighed. Without another thought, Lucifer moved his hands up to your stomach and pushed you back onto the bed. He flipped around and crawled up to you, giving you a deep and hungry kiss as he spread your legs apart, finally ripping off your thong completely and discarding to the side so that it would not be in the way anymore. You loved getting lost in the taste of your juices on his tongue.

He broke off for a moment, panting, readying himself, teasing his cock at your entrance. He looked up into your eyes, a fire raging of lust and love as he growled.

"I've wanted this since the moment I saw that gorgeous sinful body of yours, since the day that the divine powers made it so that you were the one that ended up at may door, above anyone else. And now here we are, you naked in my bed, begging to feel the blessings of my cock inside of you? Oh well then I will RUIN you like this every day for the rest of your life, you hear me? This is your eternal punishment now, in my bed, slobbering, drunk off of my cock. Now tell me, darling, tell me what it is you truly desire?!"

You cried out, "I want you to fuck me Lucifer Morningstar!"

And at that, Lucifer started to slide into your entrance. You both moan loudly as you make connection with each other. Lucifer could on contain himself as his wings started to unfold from his back as he railed you. He looked down to see your head thrown back and your eyes rolling, and again he could not contain himself as his demon form emerged. Horns sprouted from his temples, eyes red, claws sharp, and a sharp black tail twisted out from behind him and wrapped its way around one of your thighs.

You looked up to see the new view of his, his angelic an demonic combination of features were so beautiful and terrifying in the sexiest way possible. His hands glided and squeezed along your body, kissing your legs as he held them up. You felt yourself starting to unravel.

"Luci-, oohhh... baby... it's soooo goodd.... I... I'm gonnnaa..." you tried so hard to hold yourself together a little longer.

Lucifer looked down at you with red eyes and growled with a smirk, "Cum for me, baby... let me finally claim that pleasure of yours... I'm so close..."

At his encouragement and growl, you threw your head back and moaned loudly as you felt yourself completely unravel, cumming and contracting around his beautiful cock. As you scream and your walls tightened around Lucifer, he felt himself also come undone as he felt waves of pleasure take him over at he hit his climax, emptying himself into you.

Lucifer then collapsed and rolled over to you side to breathe, "That... was... amazing..." he gasped.

"Ya... it was... fuck..." you weren't ready to had your hands off of him. You pulled him close and started kissing and making out with him again. He rolled back into your embrace to kiss your lips. After a few minutes, hands started to trail around each other's bodies again and you both started to let kisses roam as your bodies grinded against each other. You guys were both ready for another round.

You took Lucifer's shaft back into your hand and you started to pump un and down on it, and it did not take long before it was rock hard again in your hands. You then flipped onto you hands and knees at you continued to stroke his cock, still glistening and wet from your juices. A bead of pre-cum started to form at the tip, which you swiped off with your tongue, causing Lucifer to let out a pitiful moan and grab onto your hair.

"Oh baby... please.." he begged. All of the dominance and power he had earlier was gone, leaving the submissive desperate man you remembered meeting the first night. This reminded you of your plan from that night, you eyes glittered with mischief.

You slid your mouth around the head of his mouth, swirling around the tip before taking as much for his dick into your mouth. Lucifer was already losing it at the tip, but when you dove deeper around him he let out a long pitiful moan.

"Fuccckkkkkkk babyyyyy... ahhhh!!!!" he cried. You continued to pump your mouth up and down his mouth, some times removing your mouth completely to lick up the side from base to tip, and taking his balls into your mouth before returned back to filling your mouth with his cock. After several minutes of this, you stopped and slipped you way off of the bed.

Lucifer looked at you confused and in a happy daze as you walked over the the covered table and removed the cloth. The table was filled with more toys than you had ever seen in your life. The options were limitless, but you were looking for one thing in particular. You scanned the table until you found that you were looking for.

You grabbed a strap on and held it up, and gave a sly smile over to your prey that was still a slobbering mess over on the bed. Lucifer's eyes lit up and he gave you a dazed nod. You then took the strap on and started to secure it to you before strutting back to the bed, letting the shaft sway from side to side.

Lucifer slipped off the bed and got in his knees in front of you, taking the plastic phallus in his mouth to kiss and suck on it as well as the surrounding skin of your hips. You enjoyed the view of Lucifer on his knees in front of you for a minute, before you reach down his hand to tip his face up and make him you up at you.

You smirked at his submissive gaze up at you, "Up. On the bed," you commanded.

Lucifer nodded and scrambled onto the bed on all fours, his back arched and and up and ready for you. You grabbed a small tube from the table before slowly making your way back to the edge of the bed, putting a dollop of lube on your fingers before starting to massage his entrance. He gawked and moaned in response, especially he you started to work a finger in, and then two. It had been forever since Lucifer had been pegged, and hell did he miss it. He loved being at someone else's command, not needing to think for a minute. It was pure bliss.

You then started to spread some lube around the plastic of the strap on tip and shaft, making sure there was enough as not to hurt him. You positioned yourself to tease his entrance while you reached forward and grabbed around his throat, pulling him back, and you whispered in his ear.

"Now... are you ready for me to take you back to Heaven, darling?" you growled in his ear.

"Y-yes... yes mommy," he whimpered before you let go of the grip on his neck and slowly eased yourself into him. Lucifer let out a long moan as you slid into him. He dropped back down to all fours, and as you started pumping, he matched your pace in response. He felt so full and high on the feeling of you inside of him. As he got used to it, you started to pump faster and faster, his moans getting louder and louder. You waved your fingers through his hair, griping it and pulling his head back as you railed him, the grip of his hair making him moan and cry even louder, tears of pleasure running down his cheeks. Lucifer reached down and started to stroke himself as you pounded him. You took his other arm and held it behind him, forcing his face with squish into the bedding, muffling his cries.

After a while, Lucifer couldn't take it anymore, "Baby...oh hells... I need... mmmm... I need to fuck you... I beg of you." It made you so wet to see him like this, to have this power over him and to be pleasuring him in this way.

You cocked your head to the side and stopped you momentum while inside of him, and you pull him back up so you could whisper in his ear, "What is the magic word, Luci?" you purred.

"Mmmm... ahhh... p-please?" she whined. You obliged, removing yourself and replacing him on the bed on all four. Lucifer made quick of work of getting you in the same position you had just had him in, but with both hands behind your back as he quickly entered you and began pounding you again, screaming and moaning. You were sure the whole hotel could hear you, but you guys didn't care. It didn't take long until you both were reaching climax again and came at the same time before falling on the bed again in an exhausted heap.

Once he caught his breath, Lucifer pulled you in close, to cuddle against your naked body. Your bodies felt like magic against each other. He wanted to do nothing else other than hold you the rest of the night, you guys had the rest of time to try out the rest of the toys. He found your hand and laced his fingers in with your as he looked in your eyes. All you saw in each other's eyes was love and joy.

"y/n, I love you so much. Now and forever."

"I love you too, Lucifer."

You pulled Lucifer into another passionate kiss.

As you drifted off you sleep in Lucifer's arms, you whispered "I'm so happy we found each other, found love... in a hopeless place."

THE END

(unless?)

______________________________________________________________

Thank you all so much for the love I have gotten for this story! This is beyond anything I ever thought I would see from this and I am so happy. Some people are interested in a 2-5 years later chapter, would anyone be interested in that? This would be a chapter 13 that I would probably be posted in a few weeks. Let me know in the comments. Also! I will be starting my next Luci x Reader story in a few days, "Talk to Me", which will focus on a Fallen Angel Reader. Let me know if you want tagged in Chapter 1 of that! xoxo, dany ❤️

Taglist:

@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @tiredlillypad @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc @wolfdaddyalphasworld @sleepypottersworld @wisterialagoon @theredviolets @theperfectmangovoid @lemonmoonmochi @sapphireravensworld @ezi0724 @undertalephanjackandmark-blog @apatcheworkofproblems @aquaamethyst96 @sashaphantomhive @randomstranger703 @cherry-4200 @herbalsingularitea @sophiaj650 @cimadreamer

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #fanfic #fanfic writing #lucifer x y/n #lucifer fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin #fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #slow burn #angst #lucifer smut

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writer-freak · 1 year

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Valorant men reacting to you kissing them on the cheek

Request from @oyasumimosura: Can I request how valorant men would react to the reader kissing their cheeks when they successfully did their mission? Theyre not together but the Valo men got a crush on (y/n)

Characters: All the current agents besides Breach because I just really couldn't write him sorry

Warnings: gn reader, no pronouns mentioned, headcanons, maybe bit ooc, english isn't my first language sorry A/n: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this request I was grieving a lot and fell into depression, but now I'm feeling a bit better, so I immediately started with finishing up this request. Hope you can forgive the long wait and I hope you enjoy my writing<3

I will also finish the other requests soon most of them I already started before everything happened, but I still need to finish them

I had fun with this request, but I'm not so confident with writing Brimstone, KAY/O and Harbor, so I put them at the very end

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated like always🖤

Chamber

He is also pretty full of himself and would regularly flirt with you Nobody thinks too much of it because this just seems to be his character but with you, he was actually trying to win you over He cheekily asked you if you would give him a kiss if the next mission was a success You kind of waved him off not really answering Believing it to be one of his antics again and nothing would follow When he came back from the mission successful he went over to you Before he could open his mouth to say anything you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek You cheekily pulled away and then just went to the others talking about what exactly happened on the mission Chamber was slightly flustered but would cover it up, and follow you trying to talk to you Maybe you were more interested in him than he thought Sova

He is such a sweetheart

You were worried about the next mission believing it to be very risky

Sova comforted you telling you that everything would be fine

You calmed down for now but of course, felt nervous again while the mission was going

Finally, the team came back and you went straight to Sova wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a quick peck on the cheek

He was surprised when you suddenly just ran into his arms but he enjoyed the affection

He was surprised by the kiss but he probably won't have that big of a reaction in front of everyone

Maybe a light flush on his cheeks and a smile on his lips but inside he is feeling way too much at once

He really likes you and hopes that soon he can ask you out

Gekko

I think Gekko is normally affectionate with you and would come to you after your missions to hug you and stuff

So you bought about also doing that for him so this time you waited for him to come back and just jumped into his arms when you saw him

You would welcome him back and give him a kiss on the cheek while he continues to hold you

He feels so giddy from your affection and gives some back to you

I could imagine him being a bit more shy when he has a crush on you because he doesn't want you to find out his feeling

In total though he thinks that you two should really start doing that for each other after every mission, even if you went to the mission together

Phoenix

I don't know why you would give this man a kiss after a successful mission because he is gonna brag about it forever

With his outgoingness, he is gonna tell everyone about how you decided to give him a kiss

Even if someone tells him that a kiss in the wheel isn't special he will not listen to them

He just loves any kind of attention from you that he can get

If you are fine with it he will also give you a kiss on the cheek

He also wants to show you his appreciation and these interactions could spark a flame between you two

This kiss could maybe be the starting sign for you two

Yoru

You talked to Jett and she dared you to kiss Yoru when he comes back from his mission

Jett knows about Yoru's little crush on you and just wanted to see his reaction

You easily agreed and then together you waited for the team to return

When you heard them arriving you got up and quickly spotted him

Jett didn't specify where you should kiss him so you pressed your lips to his cheek quickly

He is just so smug about this kiss and will start teasing you

Just talking about how you really missed him so much and couldn't wait for him to be back

I think under his exterior he is quite flustered but he wouldn't want anyone to know about that so he covered it up with teasing

Maybe this is even the perfect opportunity to ask you out on a date

Cypher

This mission a hyphen just saved everyone and you really wanted to thank him for that

You went up to him and kissed his masked cheek telling him that he was amazing

It would take him a second to register what you did but the lingering warmth on his cheek showed him that this really just happened

That was unexpected and he would chuckle, thanking you for appreciating his work

He is happy that the mask doesn't let you see how much this little gesture actually affected him

But you can hear how happy he is just from his voice

Omen

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, you just leaned in and gave his cheek a kiss

Omen as we all know isn't really one to show his emotions outwardly

It seems like he doesn't really care but he does thank you and the is just some sort of tenderness in his voice

He could become embarrassed if you kiss him and then also give him a lot of praise for doing so well

If you know him well enough though you would be able to hear the embarrassment in his voice though

Brimstone

We all know Brimstone is the more professional type and I don't know how well he would take to public affection

You two are probably already very close because otherwise, I don't think he wouldn't have the most positive reaction

But if you two are close then maybe putting aside that you kissed him on the cheek in front of everyone

He would use the kiss to motivate himself and just know that there is always someone proud of him and his work

Also, I can imagine some agents cooing when you kiss him just to embarrass you two even more

KAY/O

You just were happy to have KAY/O back so when he came up to you to talk you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek

So KAY/O is sentient and everything but I don't really know if he can feel you giving him the kiss

Even if for him personally the kiss emotionally maybe doesn't mean much he knows what it means to humans

He would thank you and verbally try to express how he recognizes the meaning of these physical gestures

Maybe he would just show a heart on his monitor and I think that says enough for you

Harbor

Harbor has such a positive energy who wouldn't want to give this man some affection

He would have such a radiant smile on his face when your lips come in contact with his cheek

The affection and praise would fill him with joy and he is someone who will give you affection back

Man this guy will give you the affection back tenfold

He really values you and wishes nothing more than to have a closer relationship with you

Thanks for reading and I appreciate all the support💙

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jeonginsleftcheek · 3 months

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Me or him (part 4)

~ part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: felix x afab!reader x hyunjin genre: angst, smut word count: 3.2k warning/s: swearing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v (don't do it), creampie, no happy ending!!! a/n: this is the last chapter of this mini series! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i had fun writing it🫶🏻(and also made myself cry while writing this last chapter dkdldl) ~ check out my: Masterlist

The last few days, you were nothing but miserable. All day, every day you thought about what you did and the more you thought about it, the more it depressed you.

Felix has been texting and calling for days. But you couldn't deal with him and the last thing he said before he left that night.

'I'll never give up on us.'

What he said made you even more mad in that moment. You tried calling Hyunjin but it seems that he blocked your number as soon as he left the apartment and your life.

You knew there was no going back and there was no way he would ever forgive either of you but you wanted to at least tell him how bad you felt for betraying him and breaking his heart.

Changbin came to pick Hyunjin's stuff up and he gave you the cold shoulder as soon as he saw you.

"H-how's Hyunjin?"- you ask quietly as Changbin packs his stuff.

"How do you think he is?"- he scoffs, not even looking at you.

"I- I know I fucked up real bad. But can you just tell him how sorry-"

"No, y/n. You don't get to apologize and feel better because of it. Hyunjin deserves more than a shitty apology you're making just because you feel guilty. I hope you feel guilty for a very long time cause you really broke his heart. Both you and... Felix. I don't wish anything ill upon anyone usually, but honestly whatever karma you two get, you deserve it."- Changbin says, shoving the last of the boxes closed.

You're silent. There is nothing you can do, you know Changbin loves Hyunjin like a brother and nothing you say to him in this moment can repair what you've broken.

"Also, here's anything you gifted to Hyunjin or him to you while you were together. He doesn't want any of the stuff to remind him of you so sell them, throw them away or something. I don't know."- Changbin shrugs, bringing in a box.

"Goodbye, y/n."

Your apartment might as well be completely vacant cause that's how it feels. Half of your closet is empty. Hyunjin's favorite snacks are gone from the pantry. His paintings that adorned the walls were gone, the paint on the wall lighter where they used to hang, leaving just a shadow of what once was.

The smell of his skin has almost completely faded away from your sheets. You can't even sleep in your bed because every time you lay down in it, you remember how you said your lovers name in the most intimate moment shared with your boyfriend, and your chest squeezes in anxiety.

You sleep on the couch, you force yourself to eat, you exist at work, your days seem to be seeping into one long painful experience. It's like you're barely even real, like the world is moving around you in slow motion and you're just there.

You can't take it.

You can't take being alone.

Your hand trembles as you lift it up, contemplating if you should actually be doing this.

It's still not too late to turn back and just go home. But what are you going back home to? Empty walls? A cold bed? That damn box of things that remind Hyunjin of you that you still didn't manage to bring yourself even to touch?

No, you can't go back there. Not like this.

So you ring the doorbell.

"Coming!"- you hear his muffled voice.

The door opens and a disheveled Felix widdens his eyes at the sight of you.

"Y/n!"- he gasps.

"I... I didn't know where else to go."- you say weakly.

Felix stares at you for a moment, the look in his eyes becoming softer.

"Come in."- he says and steps aside.

You end up sitting on his couch, where everything started. Pretty ironic, you think. He sits down too, and the two of you struggle to say something.

"Didn't you say that you don't ever wanna see me again?"- he asks quietly.

"That didn't stop you from calling and texting."- you answer equally as quiet.

"Well, I said I wont give up on us. That wasn't a lie."- he says and you sigh, finally finding the courage to look at him. He waits for you to say something and you stare at him, his eyes still warm when they look at you. You hurt him too though, haven't you?

"Felix, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't really mean it. I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. I mean that's no excuse but we both did a really shitty thing. I feel so fucking guilty, sick to my stomach for hurting someone as wonderful as Hyunjin is."- your eyes water. "I think about it every day. I really hope he can heal and find someone better. And I... well I want to try giving us a chance if you still want me."- Felix's eyes widden.

"But I need to know that you feel guilty too. I need to know that you know what we did was wrong."- you add, wiping away tears that slowly made their way down your cheeks.

"Ofcourse I feel guilty, y/n. I'm not some kind of monster. Hyunjin is- was one of my closest friends. I broke his heart too, I betrayed him too. And I do think about it. But, I can't help also thinking about you every day. I still want you, I want to be there for you. I want to be yours."

Your heart speeds up when you hear those words and you wordlessly lean in, closing the gap between you and Felix. His lips are soft against yours and only when he reciprocates the kiss, you realize you missed him.

"Wait a sec."- Felix gently grabs your wrists, leaning away from you.

"What is it?"- you ask as you notice his lips trembling.

"I don't want this to be just fucking to you. I don't want to be a rebound. I want to have a real chance of a relationship with you, like we're starting from the beginning."- Felix's eyes are big as he scans your face.

Your chest tightens.

"I... Okay."- you nod. "But I need you now. I missed you."- you confess and it's exactly what Felix wants to hear.

"I missed you too. I thought I'd never see you again."- his hands cup your face as he talks between kisses. "I need you too."- he adds and kisses you more passionately as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Something in your gut feels wrong, something nagging at you in the back of your mind but still you let Felix take you to his bedroom. It looks exactly how you remember it and everything smells like him. He kisses you, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands holding your hips tightly.

You're drunk on the taste of him, it's all so familiar, so comforting that you lose your mind to his touch.

You grip his waist and turn him around, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

"Y/n..."- Felix lets out a shaky breath as you place your palms on his thighs, spreading his legs apart before you slowly kneel down in between them.

"Fuck..."- he whines as your hand comes in contact with his hard, clothed member. You grip him and move your hand on him, feeling him grow under your touch.

You don't want to waste too much time so you hook your fingers in his sweatpants and slide them down with his boxers and Felix whines as soon as the cold air hits his leaking cock.

You lean in and lick at his tip gathering the precum, swirling your tongue around until you take him in your mouth and suck gently. Felix grips at the bed, the sight of you on your knees, pleasing him like that makes his heart beat fast.

Drunk on the feeling of his cock heavy on your tongue you keep taking more and more of him in, swallowing and humming around him, driving him crazy with desire.

His hands tangle in your hair and he grabs a fistful of it, pushing his hips up and accidentally making you gag around him.

"Ah, shit!"- he whines as his cock twitches inside your mouth.

You bob your head faster and moans keep spilling from his lips as you bring him closer to the edge.

"Stop, stop, don't make me cum yet!"- Felix whines and you lift off of him, licking your lips and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Let me taste you too, sweetheart."- he says, his voice deeper than usually and his pupils blown, the nickname he always uses for you making your pussy throb.

Pretty soon, you're naked with him between your legs, his tongue lapping at you hungrily like he was deprived of actual food for months.

His fingers work to open you up as he sucks on your clit, tongue darting out to tease your wetness.

"Missed your taste."- his voice is muffled as he speaks into you, his eyes closed in pure bliss as he keeps eating you out.

"Lix!"- you whimper as your hips spasm towards his face, his fingers finding that gummy spot inside you. "Ah, don't stop."- you say and he speeds up, making your legs shake and your heart race as he keeps hitting that sweet spot, his tongue lapping at your clit.

Pleasure washes over you and you explode, squirting all over his face and the bed.

"Shit, sorry!"- you gasp and Felix chuckles.

"Don't apologize, that was really hot."- he smirks, fingers caressing your wet folds. "I guess this pussy really missed me."

"It did."- you whisper breathlessly, as he leans in again and gives you a few kitten licks.

"I missed her too."

"Felix"- you tug at his hair and try to lift him up. He looks up at you and smirks, his thumb on your clit.

"Want something?"- he asks.

"Don't tease me now. You know what I want."- you whine.

"Say it, sweetheart."- he says, his deep voice sending vibrations through you.

"I want your cock, please."- you give in immediately and Felix smirks triumphantly as he slides his hands up to cup your breasts, hovering over you. One of his hands grabs his neglected cock that's screaming for any kind of attention and he gives it a few pumps, the tip caressing your wet cunt.

You grip at his arm, nails digging into his skin as he pushes in, your pussy molding around the shape of him, the familiar stretch.

Felix loses himself as soon as he feels your warm, wet walls clenching around him and he fucks you with vigor.

"Oh my god!"- you whimper, holding onto him for dear life.

"Fuck, I missed you so much."- Felix whimpers, face buried in your neck as he keeps shoving his cock inside you, waves of pleasure making you feel like you're floating on air.

"More, more, more..."- you keep chanting.

"I love you, I love you, y/n."- he says desperately holding onto your hips, but you only moan in response as you spasm, your juices spilling all over his cock.

"Felix!"- you moan his name as he keeps fucking you, hips snapping into you strongly.

"I'm close. Can I cum inside? Please, let me cum inside."- he begs repeatedly and you've never seen him this desperate.

A brief thought of a rule runs through your mind, one that the two of you have already broken before. The one where you told Felix that he can't come inside you, only Hyunjin can, and your mind races, a pang of guilt hitting you again.

"Please, y/n, I can't hold it much longer."- Felix ruts into you sloppily.

"Okay, you can cum inside me."- you whisper, nails digging into his back as he growls lowly, hips picking up speed again.

Between his low grunts and the whispered 'I love you's', his hips stutter as he finishes, his hot cum filling you up and making you feel incredibly wet.

"You didn't say it back."- Felix whispers as he pulls out and lays next to you, facing you so you face him too.

"I'm sorry."- you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I'll wait for you."- he says.

"Okay."- you say as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

Felix promises he'll work on himself and on your relationship. You promise you'll work on yourself too and give this a real chance.

And you really try but deep down you know you don't love Felix the way you loved Hyunjin which makes you even more confused at why you even started the affair, and how you ended up sharing pancakes on a date with him instead of celebrating four years with Hyunjin.

Felix looks happy, the happiest you've seen him and you can't even count how many fake smiles you fed him. It's wrong and it makes you feel like an even worse person than before.

The box of stuff Hyunjin returned to you is buried deep inside your closet, still unopened and untouched. It's been a few months and you still can't make yourself sift through it or even just throw it away.

Whenever you're at home, you want to run away because your apartment still reminds you of Hyunjin, and you still can't let Felix in and you definitely don't want him in the bed you and Hyunjin shared. So you go to Felix's place but whenever you're there, he's there and he doesn't want to leave you alone for a moment, and his apartment just reminds you of the many times you ran into his arms behind your boyfriend's back.

Felix is too excited, too happy and you know he's not stupid, you're pretty sure he can feel that you don't love him the way he loves you, he's just trying to ignore it.

Maybe it's best if you actually start fresh, away from everything and everyone that remind you of the biggest mistake you've made in your life.

"Lix, can we talk?"- you start one afternoon, as you hang out in his apartment.

"Yeah, what's up?"- he asks, his attention on you.

Oh, boy. Even though Felix wasn't a saint, he didn't deserve to have his heart broken but the more you thought about it, the more you came to the conclusion that it would be best if the two of you went your own separate ways.

"This isn't something I'm doing just like that, it's something I thought over and over about and I'm doing this with a heavy heart- but I think we should separate. And for real this time. I mean actually never talk again."- Felix's face morphs from sadness to annoyance as he listens to you.

"Why would you say something like that? I thought we were making progress. I thought you-"

"Felix, please, just listen for a sec. I'm sorry but I don't love you like you love me. I care for you but that's as far as my feelings go."- you say and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. "I don't want to keep lying to you because I feel like I'm doing that constantly. I can't move on from what we did to Hyunjin, I can't heal or become a better person. Neither can you, because this isn't healthy. Our relationship was never healthy. And I think both of us are just keeping each other stuck and lying to ourselves thinking that this could work when it started out as betrayal to someone who cared about both of us. We can't build a healthy relationship on that. I said I'd give it a chance and I did but I can't do this anymore. Not to myself and not to you. I want you to also be happy and find someone who will love you properly."- by the time you finish talking, both of you are crying.

"I don't know what to say, y/n. It just hurts a lot to hear that you don't feel the same for me because I've been loving you for years. I know that I made the first move and I was wrong for that. I was wrong to come between you and Hyunjin. B-but I thought if he had a chance to start over, maybe you'd grow to love me. Obviously, I can't force you to."- he sniffles so you grab his hand.

"It's really over now, huh?"- he asks, squeezing your hand.

"I'm really sorry Felix. For everything."

"Me too."- he nods. "P-please just let me kiss you and hold you one last time."- he whispers.

"Okay."- you whisper back and Felix presses his lips on yours, the taste of salty tears making your heart ache. He puts his arms around you and holds you tightly. You hold him too, while you both cry. But it's better this way. It's better to start completely fresh, for all three of you.

"I'll always love you."- he whispers.

"I know you will."- you whisper back and Felix smiles sadly.

He watches as you walk away from the window, lips trembling, still not completely aware that that is the last time he'll ever see you.

You're sitting on your floor crosslegged, the box Hyunjin returned in front of you.

You think it's time to finally open it.

You slowly lift up the lid and look into it.

It's like a time capsule of your moments together. There are three sketchbooks inside, filled with sketches of you. You smiling, cooking, sleeping, existing. Just you through Hyunjin's eyes. Cologne you bought him that makes you tear up because it brings up memories of his scent that he always left on your sheets and your skin. Shared jewelry he always got for the two of you so you could be matching. Couple rings you wore that made you remember all your friends teasing you that you got engaged within 3 months of dating. Your favorite t-shirt of his, the one he gave you to wear the first night you made love. Since then it became yours and Hyunjin loved seeing you in it, nothing else just the shirt and your pretty legs. There were tickets to art exhibitions you went to together, where Hyunjin would pull out his camera and take pictures of you and the pretty paintings surrounding you. Tickets to concerts you attended together, where you would dance like crazy and have fun like you had no worries on your mind. At the very bottom there were some photos. Photos of you, Hyunjin and Felix when the three of you first became friends. The smiles you had in the photos, pure happiness to be in each other's company, innocent and unaware of what the future holds.

You start crying as you put everything back in the box fast. You don't know how long you lay on your floor crying and hoping that this was all a bad dream and the three of you were still friends and your feelings weren't complicated and you didn't fuck everything up and no one's heart was broken.

But, sadly your reality slaps you in the face. The reality where you ruined your relationship and your friendship. The reality where you betrayed someone who loved you selflessly. The reality where you gave false hope to someone who cared about you. The reality where in the process of breaking hearts, you broke your own heart too. You hope one day you'll be able to pick up the pieces.

Today is not that day.

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @selinia86 @ihrtlino @hash2013 @yongbokkiesworld @xxkhxndlelitexx

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