#(yes this is what i do to feel better when i'm sick)
Note
Hiiiii I’ve only just seen it but if youre still doing the directors commentary thing I was gonna ask about Icarus? :) and the ⭐️ for whatever part you choose
(and just wanted to say your writing is so beautiful, I’m loving reading it so much thank you for sharing <3)
Oh ye I'm going to go on an absolute rant about Brocedes
An excerpt from chapter 30 of Icarus, when Lewis has just strained his newly regrown wings on a highly unadvised first flight after having grown out his primaries again for the first time in sixteen years, and runs into Nico by chance on an old clifftop haunt of theirs above Monaco. It's purely mutual pining in that uniquely Brocedes way
For the uninitiated, Icarus is an F1 wingfic that covers most of the grid, with the theme of wing trimming as a representation of unhealthy practices in motorsport forced upon drivers.
=====
A shape appears out of the rising sun, brown-white sparrowhawk feathers silhouetted against the dawn.
Unlike Lewis’s haphazard landing a minute earlier, Nico’s is elegant and precise; he comes out of his dive twisting in a perfect diagonal to the clifftop, one wingtip brushing the ground and the other pointed towards the sun, and lands on silent feet. He is wearing a tailored flight-suit that fits him as well as his race suit used to; the small backpack slotted between his wings has a molded plastic shell for better aerodynamics.
Nico folds his wings, and stares.
“Lewis?” he says, shocked. “What are you doing here?”
Lewis is suddenly all-too aware of the dirt ground into his skin, smeared over his t-shirt and ratty running sweats. His wings are caked with sand and grime from his less-than perfect landings; his palms are smarting with a dozen shallow cuts from hauling himself back up onto the clifftop.
He finds his voice. “What are you doing here?”
It comes out more accusing than Lewis intended. Nico’s face closes; his sparrowhawk wings flatten against his back.
“I come here often,” he says. “I fly up here every morning.”
Lewis doesn’t miss the implication that he is the intruder here, not Nico.
Lewis doesn’t know why that hurts so much. Maybe because he shouldn’t feel so out of place here, in this little sanctuary tucked against the Monaco cliffs where he and Nico had watched the sun rise and set so many times.
Nico ventures closer. His eyes are on Lewis’s wings. “You really did it,” he says oddly. “You grew out your wings.”
Lewis sets his jaw, raises his chin. “Yeah,” he says challengingly. “What about it?”
Nico flinches and looks away. His chest rises and falls faster than usual.
It would seem that even after all this time, Lewis still knows how to get a rise out of Nico. Lewis should feel vindicated, but he doesn’t. Something about the way Nico is holding his wings makes Lewis feel sick.
Nico crosses over to a flat-topped rock a careful distance away and sits. The two of them face the sunrise like they have done so many times years ago. The wind that ruffles both their feathers brings with it the scent of the sea.
Lewis closes his eyes. The sun sears his skin, turns the backs of his eyelids orange-yellow. There is so much he wants to say, but he doesn’t know where to begin. He could start at Abu Dhabi, at that awful Sky interview. He could go back to 2021, when he had finally admitted to himself and to the press that he could have been a better teammate to Nico.
He could go back to Barcelona 2016; the ache in his shabby wings in the garage, and the brief moment of blessed, cool relief when Nico had brushed a hand through Lewis’s wing.
It was the last time either of them had touched each other’s wings. Their crash and DNF at Barcelona had snapped the last threads that held them together as flock.
Lewis waits for Nico to say something, but Nico stays silent. It stings.
Lewis sneaks a glance at his former flock, finds Nico already looking at him – not at his dirt-smeared face or messy braids, but at his wing plumes, pooled carelessly in the dust at the base of the rock he is seated on.
In the dawn light, Nico’s clean, well-brushed feathers are painted in peach and ochre. Lewis bristles, waits for Nico to make an unsavoury comment.
But Nico just clasps his hands together in his lap, tight enough that the knuckles go pale. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Your wing plumes are longer than I remember,” he says hoarsely.
Oh. Lewis looks down at them, at his draped double-cloak of gold, white, and maroon.
“Yeah,” he says. A gust of wind blows dirt over the end of one of his plumes; he nudges it carelessly with the toe of his trainer, but only succeeds in matting the feather ends with even more dirt.
Nico makes an abortive motion towards Lewis.
Lewis looks at him sharply, watches Nico fold his hands into fists on his knees. Nico’s face is pinched.
Lewis breathes through the bitterness. He knows he is intruding on Nico’s space by being here. It’s just that a part of him thought that he would still have a place here, where they had shared so many happy memories.
He can’t even leave; his wings still hurt too much to chance anything other than a glide.
Nico’s feathers rustle as he stands. “I’m going to head back,” he says quietly. “You coming?”
Lewis shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “I’m going to sit a while longer.”
The flight muscles of his right wing ache dully; he shakes it out carefully, fighting a wince.
Nico is suddenly standing within arm’s reach, blocking out the sun. “Your wing,” he says, frowning. “You’ve got flyer’s cramp.”
“It’ll pass,” Lewis snaps, folding his wing back against his spine even though that makes it hurt worse. “I’ve got it handled.”
“You shouldn’t fly back alone,” Nico says seriously. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll even let you get there first.”
Lewis tenses at the implication. He hates competition not treating him seriously – Nico most of all.
“I’m fine,” he says testily. “It’s just the thermals. I rode them up, I’ll find a way between them to glide back down again. I’ll manage.”
“The thermals?” Nico frowns over his shoulder at the dizzying drop down towards the sea. “Where did you fly here from?”
Lewis works his jaw. “The beach,” he says.
Nico turns on him instantly. “The beach?” he exclaims. “Are you fucking – you can’t have unsheathed your feathers more than a few days ago!”
Lewis doesn’t reply, but Nico reads him anyway.
“Oh my God,” Nico stares. “It hasn’t even been a few days, has it? This is your first fucking flight.”
Lewis jerks his chin. “What about it?”
Nico puts his face in his hands. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you insane? Who flies up a cliff for their first flight in sixteen years? Do you want to die?”
Lewis hates to admit it, but laying it out like that puts it into perspective. He isn’t usually one to take such risks. He let his hunger for freedom override his common sense.
“That’s it,” Nico says. He jerks his head towards the cliff edge. “I’m making sure you get back without killing yourself. Let’s go.”
Lewis looks at the edge of the cliff. The wind has picked up even more now that the sun has fully risen; bits of rock and dirt swirl in the wind to tumble off the lip.
He doesn’t want to name the feeling that roots him in place.
Lewis Hamilton has never been one to admit fear.
Nico strides over to the cliff edge, draws a sharp line in the dirt with the toe of his flight boot. “Come on,” he snaps. “I’m not leaving unless you’re with me.”
Something about that phrase twists Lewis’s stomach, uncovers a bitter wound.
Because Nico had left. He’d left Lewis to race on alone.
“What is it?” Nico says. “Is your wing still cramping?”
Lewis shifts his wings. “No.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Lewis opens his mouth, closes it again. Looks away.
If there’s anything he hates most in the world, it’s looking weak in front of Nico Rosberg.
“I don’t think I can make it,” he admits.
Nico stills. “What?”
Lewis breathes a bitter laugh. “I know what it sounds like,” he says, looking down at his dirt-splattered wing plumes. “But I’m gonna be honest with you, man. I don’t think I can make it.”
Nico doesn’t respond. He looks like a statue stood on the cliff edge, his golden hair a halo around his head, his wings of carven marble.
Lewis runs his scraped palms together. “I don’t know the thermals,” he says, swallowing the shame. “They’re so different from what I remember. I keep getting pushed higher. My flight muscles aren’t strong enough to fight my way out if I get caught in one.” He gestures at himself, at the dirt ground into his wings, his clothes. “I barely made it out of the clouds and back here.”
Silence, save for the cry of gulls in the harbour below and the whistling wind.
Flight boots stomp against dirt and rock as Nico stalks over, grabs Lewis by the collar, and shakes him, hard.
Lewis’s hands come up automatically, but Nico has already let go. Lewis watches as Nico turns in a flare of sparrowhawk feathers to pace the dirt of the clifftop.
Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.”
Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all.
“Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.”
Lewis bristles. “Easy for you to say,” he spits. “You’ve had six years to learn the air patterns and train up your wings. Don’t pretend we’re on equal footing.”
Nico’s face whitens. For a moment Lewis thinks Nico will punch him; but Nico only exhales and looks over his shoulder at the cliff edge.
“It’s not as complicated than it looks,” he says abruptly. “It’s just that new building down where the road splits, and that paved road cutting through the trees there. It breaks up the current that used to flow down from–”
“Thanks, Nico,” Lewis says sarcastically. “I’m sure that’ll be really helpful when I’m trying to navigate something I can’t see.”
“Just–” Nico closes his eyes briefly. His voice softens. “Just stay on my wing,” he says quietly. “I’ll guide you down.”
Lewis looks at the cliff edge. He swallows.
Nico’s eyes are a clear, intense blue. “I won’t leave you,” he says. “I promise.”
Like that fucking meant anything the last time you said it, Lewis thinks. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because Nico’s eyes shutter.
Lewis grits his teeth. He feels like an arse.
He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?”
Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong.
“Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.
The promise settles in Lewis’s bones.
Nico’s anger and determination is something Lewis knows too well. This, he can trust.
Nico’s straightens. The sun suffuses his hair, outlines his wings with gold. He holds out a hand to Lewis.
“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got this. Clear air all the way down.”
Lewis looks at Nico’s hand before him – the familiar grooves of his palm, the finger-webs turned pink in the sun. The hand that Lewis had once thought nothing of holding in his own.
He reaches up, and takes it.
======
Director's Cut:
I had this scene planned very early; I held on to it for a solid four months before the plot progressed to the point that this happened. The thing I most wanted to get across in this scene, the first proper scene where Lewis and Nico are properly speaking face-to-face instead of just pining, is just how much they both care about each other even if it all comes out toxic.
The way I planned this conversation is that every single thing that comes out of Nico and Lewis's mouths is misinterpreted as hostile. Even body language is misinterpreted.
A few examples:
1. When Nico says, “I come here often. I fly up here every morning," he means I often return here, to this place of good memories with you, because I miss you.
Lewis takes this to mean that Nico thinks that Lewis is in his space, and that Lewis doesn't have a right to this shared space they used to have as teenagers.
2. Nico ventures closer. His eyes are on Lewis’s wings. “You really did it,” he says oddly. “You grew out your wings.”
Lewis sets his jaw, raises his chin. “Yeah,” he says challengingly. “What about it?”
Nico flinches and looks away. His chest rises and falls faster than usual.
It would seem that even after all this time, Lewis still knows how to get a rise out of Nico. Lewis should feel vindicated, but he doesn’t. Something about the way Nico is holding his wings makes Lewis feel sick.
Nico's trying to find some common ground here. He never thought Lewis would give up speed to regrow his wings. Nico had been harbouring hope that maybe they'd be able to heal if both of them weren't dead-focused on racing anymore; but Lewis is so used to Nico using everything as an insult he takes it badly.
But he still cares about Nico enough that he can tell when he's gone too far. Nico at this point in the story has gone through a full wing crisis because of Lewis, and Lewis isn't aware of it.
3. But Nico just clasps his hands together in his lap, tight enough that the knuckles go pale. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Your wing plumes are longer than I remember,” he says hoarsely.
Oh. Lewis looks down at them, at his draped double-cloak of gold, white, and maroon.
“Yeah,” he says. A gust of wind blows dirt over the end of one of his plumes; he nudges it carelessly with the toe of his trainer, but only succeeds in matting the feather ends with even more dirt.
Nico makes an abortive motion towards Lewis.Lewis looks at him sharply, watches Nico fold his hands into fists on his knees. Nico’s face is pinched.
Lewis isn't used to having full-grown bird-of-paradise plumes. He nudges them with his foot because to him they're just his feathers; he'll go and clean them later. for Nico, he's positively screaming to preen Lewis's wings. He's sitting there going insane with yearning while Lewis mats his feathers in dirt.
4. Nico turns on him instantly. “The beach?” he exclaims. “Are you fucking – you can’t have unsheathed your feathers more than a few days ago!”
When Nico finds out Lewis has got flyer's cramp and that Lewis isn't sure if he can make it back home without falling, he defaults to anger. He's actually furious because he's terrified that Lewis could have fallen to his death, but Nico, like Lewis, defaults to anger to mask his fear. Lewis does the same.
5. Flight boots stomp against dirt and rock as Nico stalks over, grabs Lewis by the collar, and shakes him, hard.
Lewis’s hands come up automatically, but Nico has already let go. Lewis watches as Nico turns in a flare of sparrowhawk feathers to pace the dirt of the clifftop.
Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.”
Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all.
“Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.”
This is something integral to Nico Rosberg: he has absolute faith that Lewis Hamilton will back down for nothing. That no matter what the world throws at him, Lewis Hamilton will push. All Nico's anxiety about Lewis still hating him or overstepping and snapping this fragile connection that's forming evaporates because this is Lewis fucking Hamilton who Nico knows through and through and Nico will die before he lets Lewis be anyone other than himself.
6. He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?”
Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong.
“Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.
The promise settles in Lewis’s bones.
Nico’s anger and determination is something Lewis knows too well. This, he can trust.
This is Nico saying I'm with you until the end of the line. It's a declaration of if you fall I will fall with you. Lewis doesn't fully get the emotion behind it yet - there's still too much ingrained hurt there - but he can see Nico's anger and determination. The same anger and determination that allowed Nico to beat him in 2016. This, he can trust.
7. Nico straightens. The sun suffuses his hair, outlines his wings with gold. He holds out a hand to Lewis.
“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got this. Clear air all the way down.”
Lewis looks at Nico’s hand before him – the familiar grooves of his palm, the finger-webs turned pink in the sun. The hand that Lewis had once thought nothing of holding in his own.
He reaches up, and takes it.
I swear I had this section planned out almost word-for-word for four months. The image of Nico with his blond hair and sparrowhawk wings offering a hand to Lewis, offering to parlay, offering to help. It's the first time neither of them have been fully alone. It's the first moment that shows there might be a possibility of healing.
Clear air. Flying in formation, like they used to drive in formation on victory laps. Nico is Lewis's guide back to flight and freedom. They'll push each other higher, like they did when they raced each other.
Lewis lets go of his hurt and bitterness for the first time this whole conversation. He lets himself trust again. He reaches up and takes Nico's hand.
I wanted above all to show how toxic and hurt their dynamic was, but how enmeshed it was - how if both of them decided to take a little step forwards, healing was possible.
It's just the first little step towards the healing we've been seeing in the rest of the fic.
You can read more Icarus here.
Send me an ask with a scene or set of lines from any of my fics and I'll give you a director's commentary! Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have me select a section I've been dying to talk about!
#f1#brocedes#brocedes fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 wingfic#f1 wing au#lewis hamilton#nico rosberg#icarus#my post#writing#fanfic#replies
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Joker Out trying to be serious for more than two seconds challenge (impossible)
source: x
Nace: *explaining how this is actually his second time in Madrid but he never really got time to see the city*
Jan: look Jure, I can make a sound :D
#i actually love this interview bc they don't really say anything that i hadn't heard before#but the fact that bojan and kris weren't there (poor boys were sick AGAIN) led to Jure and Nace speaking more#and i'm just 🥹🥹🥹🥹#let my boys speak more!!!!#these three are so silly together i love them so much ahxjsvsksbsks#(totally not biased bc they're my faves lol)#joker out#nace jordan#jan peteh#jure maček#holy trinity#mine#maca speaks#welcome to maca rewatching old jo interviews part 1000#(yes this is what i do to feel better when i'm sick)#fave
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
Really fucked up that two ppl can care about each other and make their best efforts to communicate and still end up hurting each other so badly they cannot stand to be in the same room.
#my stuff#i feel soooo bad talking to my therapist about the same topics over multiple weeks#like i feel like they're sooo sick of it like damn can this bitch get Over It alreadyyyy#hi yes actually can we talk about the near catastrophic sense of betrayal and loss that has haunted my soul for over a month?#can we talk about how I overcompensate for other's possible feelings and emotions to desperately mask my terror at feeling out of control#can we talk about how even when I know ppl acted with logical reasons necessary for their situation it still hurt me?#and that this pain fills me up with so much anger and frustration that I'm powerless to put anywhere that won't hurt someone#so it just cooks me inside and makes me grind my teeth constantly for weeks#im so angry i did not deserve to be treated like this it's not fair and I have no capacity to fix it or control when it feels better#i just have to survive and wait until i forget about it and hope they don't decide to reach out and fuck it all up#cause i can see that happening#i'll finally be free of thinking about them and generally going about my day unbothered and they'll ask to get coffee or something#and I have no idea what I should do in that scenario. because I don't think we can be friends.#and you have not treated me with the compassion and warmth I treated you#i would want to say mean things. hurtful things. I would want to bite back for once.#and that's not me. that's not who I want to be.#i don't wanna see you. go away. don't talk to me if you're not going to make the pain go away.
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
What I Want You To Know About Long COVID
Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.
Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.
COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.
Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).
There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.
So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.
COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.
The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".
Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."
There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.
You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.
I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.
This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.
Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.
Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.
Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.
Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.
Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.
Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.
And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.
Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.
I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
yours, indefinitely
- geto suguru x reader
each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡
genre/warnings:
18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!
note:
based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.
But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.
Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.
MONTH TWO
Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.
You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.
"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.
When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"
"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.
Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.
"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"
"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"
"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"
“I d-don't want to trouble you...”
Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"
"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"
And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.
"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.
MONTH THREE
When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.
But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.
"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"
"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."
His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."
"Hmph... but baby wants it."
"But—!"
"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"
"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"
"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.
In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.
“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”
. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.
MONTH FOUR
With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.
And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.
"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.
"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"
"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"
Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."
"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"
Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.
“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”
"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."
"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."
You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"
"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."
"Even when you already have the twins?"
"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"
One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.
And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.
. . .
In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.
MONTH FIVE
“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.
You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”
Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”
Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.
“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”
Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”
He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”
“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.
Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”
Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—
“Suguru!”
You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.
Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"
It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—
He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.
MONTH SIX
It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.
He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.
He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.
By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.
"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"
"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."
"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"
Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."
Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.
"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."
At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.
“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”
Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.
MONTH SEVEN
You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.
"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"
Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.
Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.
"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"
It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.
"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."
"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"
Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."
And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.
MONTH EIGHT
"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.
With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.
You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.
He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.
“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”
You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.
In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.
You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—
“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.
Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.
“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.
“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.
You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.
Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.
“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”
And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.
Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.
Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—
His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—
—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.
"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.
"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.
And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.
Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.
Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.
And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.
"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.
"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.
Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."
He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.
And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—
"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"
Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.
Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.
"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.
He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."
You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."
But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.
And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.
#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#jjk x reader#suguru x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#suguru geto smut#18+ only#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#geto fluff#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#jjk imagines#geto suguru fluff#geto x you
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
summary: Yuuji finds himself sick, and it gives him a perfect opportunity to spend time with his older brother.
wc: 1.8k
a/n: its back friends. all i think about is them.
big brother au masterlist
Yuuji lets out a mucus-filled cough and Sukuna cringes. The toddler turns to him and sniffles with a frown on his face. The elder, in return, rolls his eyes but readjusts the cool rag on his brother's forehead. "Don't look at me like that. Whose fault is this? If you do stupid things, you have to pay the consequences, little pest."
The boy doesn't move; instead, he just stubbornly shakes his head. "W-Wanted to play!"
"In the rain? Without any warm clothes? You truly are an idiot," Sukuna scolds, grabbing Yuuji's water bottle from the nightstand and forcing it into the little boy's mouth.
Yuuji developed a fever this morning after sneaking out into the backyard last night to play in the rain puddles. Now he was stuck in bed, which was hard for the toddler who was always on the go and harder for Sukuna, who has to pretend that he isn't worried sick.
You walk into the boy's room, and Yuuji immediately looks towards you. He tears the sippy cup from his mouth and lets out a high-pitched whine, already beginning to reach his arms toward you. He knows youll coddle him, unlike his brother, and the exhausted boy was craving attention. When you make it over the bed, he reaches his hands upward to you and pleads, "Up! Up!"
You frown at the boy, already reaching down to scoop him up, but Sukuna quickly intervenes, gently slapping your hand away. "No. He might get you sick too. Brat, you stay in bed."
The toddler opens his mouth to protest, but another cough cuts him off. Then, with watery eyes, he turns to Sukuna and nods. "Yes, b-brother."
You coo at the boy, using your palm to cup his warm cheek and thumb at the soft skin. Yuuji rests his entire head on the touch, and you frown. "Poor baby," You sigh, and Yuuji, ever the one to love being doted on, nods pitifully, adding an extra sniffle for effect. Sukuna almost rolls his eyes at the action.
"Why don't you coddle me like that when I am sick?" Sukuna complains before reaching over and pulling the blanket higher up Yuuji's chest. The boy mumbles out a thank you, but the elder ignores him.
"You whine too much, act like you are dying. Yuuji isn't being dramatic, huh Yuuji?" The boy nods, gripping your arm and rubbing his face into your hand.
"No," he mumbles, "Not being dramatic!" He lets out a loud whine, and Sukuna already knows what's coming. "Feel so bad. Hurts!"
The boy seems to curl around your arm, and Sukuna sighs. "Yeah. Not dramatic at all." The kid sounds exactly like Sukuna when he is sick. Just minutes before, he proclaimed to Sukuna that he wanted to play again, even if he was still immensely ill. He just wanted attention, and it was obvious to everyone but you.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Yuuji. I brought you some medicine that will make you feel better." The boy's face drops at the word, and he hesitantly lets go of your arm. Sukuna barks a laugh at Yuuji's now twisted face.
The toddler shakes his head gently, too tired to show his real disapproval. "N-No! No medicine!" It always tasted horrible to the toddler, and he knows that if he whines enough, he may be able to get his way.
Sukuna sighs, holding out his hand to you, and you drop the bottle into it. Then, he pours a copious amount of the pink strawberry-flavored liquid, made specifically for children, into the small measuring cup.
Yuuji starts to scoot backward on the bed, trying to create some distance between the two. The elder does not let him go far – he grabs Yuuji's hand and places the small cup into it. "Now drink it, or I'm forcing it down your throat."
The boy gulps, glancing at you, who gives him an encouraging nod. Then he places it to his lips but pauses. "Go on," Sukuna demands.
"I want a treat after!"
Sukunas barks a malicious laugh, and you raise your eyebrows at the boy. You have never heard him try to negotiate before. "Bullshit. Your "treat" is not to be stuck in bed, weakling."
You narrow your eyes at him when you hear the curse word, but Sukuna shrugs it off. Yuuji, on the other hand, eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "Bad word!" He then turns to you in confirmation, pointing at his brother. "He said a bad word!"
You nod your head at him, trying to hide a smile. You were glad that your lessons of not saying curse words stuck with the boy, even with his brother's foul mouth. "Yes, he did. Sukuna, now you definitely owe him a treat afterward."
Sukuna glares at you, but you are used to it, so you instead just flash him a grin. You have told him a multitude of times how you feel about him saying curse words in front of the kid. You didn't want him to grow up so similarly to Sukuna; as much as you love the man, his dirty mouth is not something you hope Yuuji will inherit.
Sukuna turns his attention back to his brother. "You little–"
"Please, Kuna?" Yuuji pleads, letting out another cough that makes him nervous. He rubs at his temple.
"Fine. Whatever. Just drink it, you manipulative brat." Yuujis eyes lighten up, and he brings the artificially smelling liquid to his mouth, cringing but drinking the entire thing. When he pulls away, his face is contorted in disgust, and he looks toward you. You run your fingers through his hair and praise the small boy, grabbing the small cup from his hands.
Sukuna curtly nods his head. "Good. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, brat, but we are out of chocolate. No treat for you," He fake pouts at the boy, but Yuuji, in turn, just shakes his head with a small smile.
"Not what I want."
Sukuna raises his eyebrow, thinking for a second, before sighing. "We are out of popsicles too."
"Not that either!" Yuuji shakes his head with this one, and you cock your head to the side in confusion.
Sukuna borderline growls at the boy. "We are not watching Human Earthworm 2. Last time you nearly pissed yourself from how afraid you were." You laugh at the memory, remembering how much Yuuji pleaded to watch it for days, only to have it be turned off twenty minutes into the movie. The poor boy would make Sukuna walk him to the bathroom at night because he was so afraid of being alone in the dark.
Yuuji pouts at him, and another small cough it let out. You grab him some more water, and the boy mumbles a thank you before turning back to his brother. "I wasn't scared! And no, not that either!"
Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to lose his temper. "What do you want then?"
The smile on Yuuji's face returns, even with the pinkened cheeks and the little bits of sweat on his temples. "Want Kuna to cuddle me!"
Your eyes widen, and you can't stop the laugh that leaves your mouth. Sukuna, on the other hand, goes silent for a long moment. "Not happening. Pick something else."
Yuuji whines out, shaking his head stubbornly. "Nooooo. You said I get a treat!"
"You are going to get me sick."
The boy sniffles at him, shaking his head. "Th-Thought brother was the strongest…"
This makes you grin, knowing your lover's ego well. And just like you thought, Sukuna lets out a dramatically large sigh. "Fucking–Fine. Whatever. Scoot over." You and Yuuji both let the curse word slide, being shocked at him actually agreeing.
Yuuji slides over, and Sukuna forces his way under the blankets beside the boy. You sit and watch as Yuuji basically scampers up Sukuna's chest until his head is placed in the elder's neck and his entire body is on top of the man. "Okay, really?" Sukuna grumbles, and you chuckle at him. "Are you some sort of spider monkey now?"
The boy hums in agreement, pressing himself impossibly closer to his brother. You take this time to stand up from the bed, having no room to fit you both. Sukuna watches you begin to leave and frowns at you. "Where are you going?"
This was a perfect time to give them some bonding time. So you shrug, "I'll be right back."
"You better be," Sukuna grumbles and Yuuji coincidentally sneezes into his neck. The man's whole body jerks, and he cringes. "Hey! None of that, that's disgusting!"
Yuuji whimpers, wrapping his arms tighter around his brother as if he was afraid to leave. Then he whispers an apology, and Sukuna rolls his eyes again.
You grab the door to the handle and step outside. "Well, have fun you two. Yuuji, feel better!"
Yuujis cranes his neck to look at you and waves back to you with a small smile, content in his position. Sukuna, on the other hand, glares at you. "Dont you dare leave me here with this brat."
You huff a laugh, ignoring him and already planning what movie you will watch by yourself. "Love you!"
"Hey!" He yells when you shut the door on him.
And, of course, luck is not always on Sukuna's side. When you come to check on them two hours later, you find them both passed out – Yuuji practically smothers Sukuna with his tiny body, drooling on the elder's face. You leave them like that, not thinking much of it.
But three days go by, and somehow Sukuna finds himself stuck in bed with a fever. He never dared to mention that Yuuji probably got him sick, his pride getting the better of him.
You and the kid walk into your shared bedroom, Yuuji with a massive smile, finally feeling better, and you with a content grin. Sukuna slowly peers over to the door and groans out loud and dramatic.
"Dont worry, Kuna! Dr. Yuuji is here to take care of you!" He cheers, grabbing his toy stethoscope and shuffling over to the bed. He manages to climb onto the bed with his brother without much trouble, and you follow him, sitting on the bed next to your lover. Like you did with Yuuji, you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him.
Sukuna peers at you, eyes slightly lighting up and a familiar grin pulling at his face. You already know something inappropriate is about to leave his mouth.
"I would feel so much better if you were in a nurse costume right now." But before you could try to reply, Yuuji shuts him up by shoving a toy thermometer into his mouth.
#mello.writes#big brother au#sukuna x reader#kid yuuji#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#yuuji fluff#yuuji tadori fluff#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#reader insert#x reader#gn reader#gn! reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
JJK Men: FWB? No, I wanna be your boyfriend!
Summary: Your Friends with Beneifit's partner realizes they want to be more!
Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!Reader
Word Count: 3,957
Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex
A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️
Nanami Kento:
Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.
And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.
When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.
“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.
“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”
“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”
“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”
“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”
Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”
“Fuck you.”
“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”
“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.
Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.
He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.
Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”
“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”
His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”
“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”
“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”
“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”
His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.
“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”
That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.
“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.
Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.
“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”
”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.
”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.
”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”
”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”
You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.
When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.
”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”
Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.
”Sounds like a dream come true!”
Geto Suguru:
You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.
Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.
”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.
”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”
Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.
”Nope, I got a date.”
Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.
You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.
“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”
“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”
Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.
“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”
“I know I said that.”
“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”
Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.
The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.
”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.
You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.
“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”
“Suguru.”
“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”
Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.
His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.
”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”
”Yes! I want that more than anything.”
You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.
By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.
Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.
Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.
“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”
There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.
Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.
He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.
“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.
“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.
Toji Fushiguro:
“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.
“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”
“No, I'm good.”
“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”
“I said I’m good!”
“Stupid fuc—”
The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.
“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.
“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.
“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”
“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”
You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.
So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.
“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”
“So what are you saying?!”
“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”
You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?
The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.
Your person was Toji.
Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.
“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”
“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”
Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.
Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.
“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.
“What was that?”
“I said I love you.”
Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”
Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.
“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”
As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.
“Y/N, everything is good when it comes to you.”
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk reader smut#jjk y/n#jjk#jjk reader insert#jjk men#jjk geto#reader jjk#jjk nanami#jjk toji#jjk geto smut#jjk nanami smut#jjk toji smut#suguru geto smut#nanami kento smut#toji fushiguro smut#geto x you#nanami x you#toji x you#geto smut#nanami smut#toji smut#jjk gojo smut#reader x suguru#kento x reader#reader x Toji#suguru x reader#reader x nanami
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.
Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week.
Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–
"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.
"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it.
Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.
Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger.
He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.
He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.
So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.
"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.
–
Eddie gets home late.
Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?
Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--
Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.
There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?
And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.
He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.
And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.
"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.
Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?
He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.
They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.
He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–
The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.
The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.
None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–
The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing.
"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?"
Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?
But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.
But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.
Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep.
He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching.
He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.
“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.
He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.
He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.
“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.
“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?
“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.
part 2
#steddie#steve/eddie#stevexeddie#eddie/steve#eddiexsteve#steddie fic#my fic#listen i was in the mood for steve whump and i won't apologize for it#don't worry there's plenty of eddie whump coming in part 2 i promise
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k
Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy.
"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"
"Do you know why Y/N's upset?"
"You don't? You're the expert."
Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question.
"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test."
"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums."
"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–"
"Lovely?"
"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."
Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him.
"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully.
Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done.
"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did."
"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up."
Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't."
Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."
Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down.
"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you answer my texts?"
He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you."
You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."
"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…"
Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope.
"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.
"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth.
"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose."
"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine."
Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather."
The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing.
You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress."
You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years.
It only feels like years.
When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern.
"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath.
"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault."
"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone."
"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this."
"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain."
"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly.
Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you."
"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."
Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips.
"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips.
"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Here are some German specific quirks I think König would have <3
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
(yes, I know he's Austrian, but the difference is really only that they talk funny and have better desserts)
♡ he HATES fans and air conditioning. Like I'm talking disdain from the deepest pits of hell kinda hate.
Ceiling fans and AC are not a thing here, and literally every German looks at it with a very disapproving look if there happens to be one somewhere.
König absolutely refuses to sleep with the fan or AC on, just open a window, Liebling!
He's so upset that he can't put the window "auf kipp" :( (pls Google it, it's so hard to explain lol) like he's crushed that he can't keep the windows "auf kipp" all day.
You have a ceiling fan? Nope, not anymore. That thing is getting taken down the minute you move in together. But if you insist on keeping it, he'll secretly cut the cable to the switch.
Everyone knows all they do is whirl around dust and make you sick! He's not having it.
König acts like artificial ventilation is his worst enemy (I agree with him) and he'd rather suffocate than turn on the goddamn AC.
♡ Sundays are strictly lazy/rest days. Nothing's open on Sundays here, so we're forced to relax and not run around like headless chickens trying to get things done.
He's absolutely baffled if you have plans to go somewhere on a Sunday. What do you mean you need to run errands? What do you mean you're going out? And if you want him to come along?? Yeah, no.
His brain stops working. After the many years he's been alive, not once has he gone somewhere on a Sunday that wasn't his Oma's house for Kaffee und Kuchen.
You're not going anywhere. Plans are canceled, and you better spend the day on the couch with him.
♡ König probably misses all the beautiful old architecture Vienna has to offer. You don't quite appreciate it as much when it's just there all the time, but now he wishes he could quietly people watch in the city center :(
In my mind he's a bit of a history nerd, so he probably frequented museums and castles, admiring the delicately sculpted ceilings and wondering how people lived back then.
He'd be most fascinated by the masonry work done on the outside of most buildings. I mean, that's stone, but it's so smooth and carefully crafted.
♡ there are some very weird sayings in German that you just can't translate because they don't make sense. König is sick of having to awkwardly try to explain what they mean after he's been caught muttering one under his breath, only to realize halfway through that he looks like a maniac.
German is a very literal language, and I think he misses speaking it. We have very specific words for some things and he probably struggles to talk in English sometimes purely because the words he wants to use just don't exist.
(I'm very upset they didn't give him an Austrian accent bc it's one of my favorites, but I can also confidently say that I think he wouldn't be taken seriously at all if he had one lmao)
♡ König goes on random ass walks sometimes. Where's he going? On a walk. No, like where is he going? HE'S GOING ON A WALK.
There's no destination, you just walk. No matter the weather. Ya walk until you feel like you've walked enough. (A very German experience and I hate it)
♡ dreams of his Oma's Kaiserschmarn (me too, König, me too.)
It's basically a giant pancake that you tear into little pieces (traditionally, it has raisins too, I think) and you eat with either cinnamon sugar or applesauce (or both) and you will drift up to heaven.
It's warm, it's fluffy, it's sweet;
It's perfect for a gloomy Friday afternoon spent with his Oma and Opa 🥺
(Can you tell that I'm projecting)
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
"Auf kipp" is a very specific window position where only the bottom two hinges stay attached so you can tilt the window towards you and a little crack is open so you can always have fresh air!
"Oma und Opa" grandma and grandpa, which he loves so much, undoubtedly.
"Kaffe und Kuchen" basically tea time. You get together and eat cake and have coffee! Mostly on the weekends :)
"Kaiserschmarn" what dreams are made of.
🩷
#bumblebeesfromvenus#könig x reader#könig mw2#könig#könig cod#könig call of duty#konig x reader#cod x reader#konig mw2#konig cod#konig call of duty#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#soap mactavish#soap x reader#john price x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#captain price x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy
A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!
Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?
“I really want to see that.”
You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question.
He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again.
“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.”
“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water.
If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view.
Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie.
“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.”
His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed.
“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you.
“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.”
You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now.
“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt.
“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket.
“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure.
You needed to make your need for him explicit.
“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.”
His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny.
“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.”
“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property.
“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!”
You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about lovesick!gojo
- lovesick!gojo who fell in love with you when you held his hand in comfort when he was upset from being scolded by the higher ups about something reckless he did.
- lovesick!gojo who noticed the way you understood that he was still young and even the strongest made mistakes, which is okay as he's still learning.
- lovesick!gojo who started noticing little things about you, like how you pick your nails when nervous, how your eyes light up when talking about your interest, how you tap your pencil in thought when working in class and when you smile, little dimples appear on your cheeks.
- lovesick!gojo who gets butterflies in his stomach whenever you giggle at his terrible jokes while suguru and shoko both roll their eyes in annoyance.
- lovesick!gojo who jokes around even more in order to hear you laugh again, even when the others grow even more tired of him.
- lovesick!gojo who doesn't try to hide how much he wants to hang out with you, who makes up ridiculous excuses to spend time with you. "What do you mean Suguru is busy? Isn't he right there?" "HAHAHA! That's hilarious, let's go somewhere else..." as he drags your form in the opposite way.
- lovesick!gojo who falls even more when you indulge in his teasing. "Need some help?~" You roll your eyes. "I wouldn't want to bother the strongest one~ I'm sure you have better things to do." His grin widens. "It's ok, I don't mind sparing my time for you~"
- lovesick!gojo who tries to impress you everytime you're both assigned on the same mission, showing off at every chance he got and turning his head expectantly to you to see if you were watching him. "Did you see how I exorcised that curse?" "Yes, you did great Satoru.🙄" ":))))"
- lovesick!gojo who feels the pit of jealousy when he sees you conversing with a kyoto student, even more when he sees you laugh at something he said. You were suppose to laugh at his jokes, not a random nobody's.
- lovesick!gojo who appears right by your side in the middle of your conversation, sliding an arm around your waist, pouting and batting his eyelashes. "Baby, I thought we had something special :((( 🥺🥺🥺" "Satoru what the fuck."
- lovesick!gojo who grins in victory when the kyoto guy leaves in panic from seeing the affectionate display, but frowns when you scold him for disturbing your conversation. It doesn't matter, he still won and now your attention is on him instead :)
- lovesick!gojo who loves sharing sweets with you. Whenever he bought pastries from your favourite bakery he will always get extra to share with you. He especially loved seeing your face light up whenever he mentioned getting your favourite pastry.
- lovesick!gojo who gets surprised when you always return the favor, always sharing baked goods you bought, even getting the extra sweet ones just for him.
- lovesick!gojo who's ears turn red at the thought of you buying something just for him, no one else.
- lovesick!gojo who swears he will marry you one day, no matter the circumstance, not even the higher ups would stop him. All he need is to ask you out first, but seeing you chuckle as you two shared a chocolate cake, he thought staying by your side is good enough for now. After all, he's not getting cured from this sickness anytime soon.
he's so 🥺❤️😍🥺🤗😚❤️😳🥰❤️ to me
#jujutsu kaisen#fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#jjk gojo#lovesick gojo#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo#gojo brainrot#hes so#screaming#look at him#he is so silly#my baby#gege bring him back pls 🥺#jjk x reader#jjk x you
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
>< it is 4 am i will sleep soon but
#🌙.rambles#it's not easy to just stop being confused and lost & stop worrying but#i feel a lot better tonight after remembering a lot of things n crying did help >< i think it's fine for me to do more tomorrow instead#regrets are hard to deal with but i know i'm stronger than them. so i'll prove it and rise above all that#oh yeah there's some stuff in particular that's weighing me down that r too personal for me to share with anyone but#i think i can handle that better now. in time.#we're all still so young n there's so much we have yet to learn and experience. we're still developing.... n that's part of being human.#GOD WAIT THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT TO WRITE WHEN I MADE THIS POST BUT YEAH POINT STANDS#i've just been listening to music for the past few hours i think while writing n doing other stuff#wait my mind is wandering;;;; i barely ate anything today.... just breakfast then some pastries then. half eaten lunch?#i'll take better care of myself tomorrow. this weekend. and next week especially when sembreak ! yes#i'm really gna have to sleep soon though oh my god how do i survive weekdays when i never get enough sleep unless i'm sick 😭😭#anyways. wait. music ! KINGDOM HEARTS.... FINAL FANTASY XV#started both in 2019 n finished in 2020 summer when i picked them up again.... wait.... my mind is wandering#i find it really interesting how the way we help others really says a lot about us ourselves as people#i've analyzed that a lot before n i am again now at 4 am oh no . i realize though that. for my own self#i'm actually rather affectionate at heart huh;;;; it makes me a bit shy thinking about that . i blame the stories and the final fantasy#compliments from the heart. how much i value you for who you are. and what you mean to me. i love to be direct about that#advice as the sort of person i know you are. because i love you. i'm romantic ! but not in a relationship way or wtvr here ok .#on that thought sometimes i realize i may often come across as aroace but goddamn i really just get shy n hide with that sort of topic#i will Deny till the day i die </3#i cld ramble more about this but it is now 4:20 n BACK TO KINGDOM HEARTS#hmm i was barely a teen when i played kh3/ffxv. thinking abt it n especially the latter really influenced me for life#earlier while listening to her ost i was thinking about how since i only played kh3 i don't know too much about the series' lore#& xion. but i find it interesting how. her theme is my fav from the charas. i really loved her name (i used it for the protag in a short#story back in gr9 for school). i never really knew too much about her but god i feel like. idk just a connection that's. hmmm#older now thinking more of her character she really really appeals to me. from her design n personality n it seems like fate. we're similar#wait this is so fucking dumb i searched up noctis n i immediately smiled . damn . he. 🥹 still so special to me#i shld replay kh3 n ffxv soon. my childhood. anyways it is nearly 4:40 holy shit i have to wake up at 5:30 GOOD NIGHT
0 notes
Note
hi!! i really love your blog: i usually stay silent and only like the posts but i thought today should be the day i request something!
would you be open to write a social media au with lando Norris x y/n where the reader is a marine biologist? or a surfer? or something ocean-related lmao
feel free to disregard this request if you don’t like it or don’t have time!! xx
just add water | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem reader
first fish ruined his appetite, now they steal his girlfriend?
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 103,451 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: perks of the job but back on shore i clock in to my full time job of missing lando
view all comments
user1: can we have the hair routine cause miss ma'am is in the sea every damn day and her hair is still healthier than mine
user2: REAL
landonorris: f1 is just my day job, talking about you is my passion and career
yourusername: babe even the whales in monterey bay know about you
landonorris: they better be mclaren fans
yourusername: eh i think i heard super max (whale edition) the other day
maxverstappen1: conquered all of f1 and the seven seas so real of me
landonorris: THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE SAYING THE RISING OCEAN TEMPERATURES ARE FRYING THEIR BRAINS
yourusername: babe don't joke about that :(
landonorris: sorry :(
oscarpiastri: can you please come to the next race i may put my head through a wall if i have to watch this man go through his camera roll again RETELLING me all of the stories
yourusername: didn't realise we were so annoying 🧐
oscarpiastri: don't get me wrong you guys are cute but sometimes i wanna nap after practice in peace and not hear about whale shit
landonorris: i SEE HOW IT IS
alexalbon: no oscar is right i've heard about when had a baby seal on her surfboard about seven billion times
yourusername: HEY that was cute
user3: okay but lando could talk to ME about y/n's adventures
user4: i want to hear ALL of it for real
user5: lando and y/n podcast when?
alexalbon: do not give them ideas they’re already number one and two yappers in the international waffling championship
yourusername: yapper and proud 😤
landonorris: healthy relationship communications and boundaries? no. yappers? yes!
alexalbon: has anyone ever told you guys you’re annoying?
yourusername: yes 😃
user6: they’re so annoying i love them
landonorris
liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,451 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: does this girl own a pair of trousers? real question.
view all comments
user8: i actually don't think i've ever seen a man this down bad
user9: ALL men should aspire to be this whipped
yourusername: i wish you would join the no trouser revolution, give the girlies something to look at
user10: i agree
yourusername: okay back up babe that ass is all mine
landonorris: it's okay babe you can admire your (my) ass all the time if you come home PLS
yourusername: sorry babe the ocean doesn't sleep and the whales need me
landonorris: but i need you too :(
maxverstappen1: WAH WAH I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING WHINING
alexalbon: THANK YOU FINALLY
landonorris: erm why am i being victimised in my own comment section
maxverstappen1: you are doing my fucking nut in mate yeha i get you miss her but kinda your fault for having a cool gf with a cool job
yourusername: omg thanks 😊
landonorris: Y/N???
yourusername: babe no offence but he's a three time world champ i'm gonna take the compliment
landonorris: i guess so :(
user10: just one normal comment section, please that is all i ask for
oscarpiastri: maybe i should get on this whole j.peg business cause my photography is doing some heavy lifting here
yourusername: i didn't take you for a stunt queen miss rookie
landonorris: where is the peace, love and positivity ?? you guys are such haters
oscarpiastri: proudly
yourusername: no cool shells for you mr piastri
oscarpiastri: I TAKE IT BACK
landonorris: you people are such flip flops
yourusername
liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 112,872 others
yourusername: i promise we do actually do work
view all comments
user14: why am i now considering a marine biology degree for a sick ass instagram feed
user15: and protecting the sanctity of ocean life?
user14: yeah sure throw that in there too?
landonorris: i hope you slapped the FUCK out of that stingray for steve irwin
yourusername: babe we all know violence is not the answer
landonorris: you said you'd break the knee caps of any driver that took me out?
yourusername: i do not recall this
landonorris: steve irwin is a national treasure, you should've done it for oscar
oscarpiastri: i'm sure it wasn't that exact stingray mate
landonorris: you don't know that
danielricciardo: i see you've forgotten about the other aussie you were teammates with ???
yourusername: i wouldn't have that if i were you daniel
landonorris: y/n??? you're meant to be on my side
yourusername: say sorry to larry and maybe i'll gang up on daniel with you
danielricciardo: Y/N???
landonorris: i'm sorry larry ... and daniel i guess ?
danielricciardo: if my hand weren't broken right now...
user16: okay i think lando is having y/n withdrawals
yourusername: his bitchiness is a symptom of separation anxiety
landonorris: sorry not sorry
user17: mclaren pr praying for y/n to come to a race soon
maxverstappen1: p says pretty please can she bagsy the pink shells?
yourusername: most definitely she can !! i'll even be on the look out for more
maxverstappen1: thank you y/n you're my favourite - p
yourusername: that's it i'm coming home rn
landonorris: am i a joke to you?
landonorris
liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,322,099 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: reunited and it feels so good oh and a double podium, pretty sweet
view all comments
user21: obsessed with how lando said that y/n is clearly his lucky charm and the "dumbass" ocean won't be getting his girlfriend back
user22: there's levels to hating and lando's level of hating on the ocean??
user23: his hatred of fish makes so much more sense right now
user24: either he hates anything to do with the ocean or y/n convinced him they deserve to live 😭
landonorris: i'll say it's number one but realistically it's two greatly helped by the fact that it tastes gross anyway
yourusername: I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU
landonorris: i know hhehehehehehehe
yourusername: i love you stupid
landonorris: i love you too dummy
yourusername: as much as i enjoyed this race i am ready for home time (after karaoke, you promised me karaoke with yuki)
landonorris: AHAHAHAAH TAKE THAT OCEAN Y/N COMING HOME
alexalbon: bro has beef with the ocean 😭
georgerussell63: bro had to share his gf with WATER 😭
maxverstappen1: bro is being ... torn apart here KEEP GOING LOL
oscarpiastri: no keep going cause i just want a nap before debrief and some people are being WAY TOO LOUD
carlossainz55: i think that's probably why you guys are getting away with bullying the little goblin
user25: oscar out here just confirming that lando and y/n are ... for lack of a better word up to no good?
user26: y/n didn't lie when she called him a stunt queen
landonorris: i can't hear y'all LALALALALALA
yourusername: they hate us because they ain't us
landonorris: period 💅
user27: i hate (love) them your honour
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 419,034 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: so he had the whole proposal planned out but got a bit too excited at suzuka ... if anyone asks we got engaged on a boat in the mediterranean not in his driver's room. aside from that, HOLY FUCK I AM ENGAGED TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE I LOVE YOU LANDO I CAN'T WAIT FOR FOREVER
view all comments
user30: HOLY 😭 FUCKING 😭 SHIT 😭
landonorris: can we agree on no more like three month placements pretty please?
yourusername: baby the whales need me
landonorris: i need you more FIANCE :(
yourusername: gosh you are convincing, no more retreats for more than a month
landonorris: yay !!
yourusername: you need to put up more shelves for our shells though
landonorris: on it, i love you (i'm calling my dad to do it)
yourusername: i love you too baby
danielricciardo: enchante tease on the engagement post and for free ??? love you two
yourusername: at least you have the prettiest model ever for it
landonorris: I'M BLUSHING
danielricciardo: i'll deal with this because i'm happy for you two
mclarenf1: double podium and an engagement, suzuka really delivered this year
oscarpiastri: i guess i take back my comments about being loud in the drivers room... i'm so happy for you guys you deserve it
landonorris: ahaha i knew you were a softy really pastry boy
yourusername: i always knew you loved us really oscar, you're just sassy and we respect that
landonorris: .... sure
maxverstappen1: did he propose at sea in one final power move over his arch nemesis the ocean?
yourusername: have you considered he did it at sea because i'm a marine biologist and i love it out there and he loves me?
maxverstappen1: well now i look like an asshole
landonorris: the sea 0 - 1 lando
yourusername: lando 😭
user31: well this has all been a rollercoaster
fin.
note: i've been kinda mia on here and i'm super sorry this request has taken so long lol. wanted to get this out now though cause lando had a horrid day today but i'm glad he's okay !! enjoy, i'm in my second week of a job so might get less busy xx
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#lando norris insta au#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
CW: Aged up character, sub! Yuuji Itadori, dom! gn! reader, mentions of cock rings/cock cages, heavy orgasm control, reader likes to mess with poor yuuji, dacryphilia, fingers in mouth
WC: 1.2k
A/N: i made this to (hopefully) get out of my writers slump. idk. it was fun to write tho LOL. i neeeeed to work on my WIPs tho.
"Oh Yuuji, I'm disappointed."
His eyes widen at the tone of your voice, soft and defeated, like you truly were upset with him. The idea makes his mouth go dry, and he bites his lip to hold back his tears.
"I-It was an accident, I swear!" he stammers, clinging onto your arm to hopefully convey how panicked he seemed to be. Even an ounce of disapproval from you made him want to sing apologies, and the way you were frowning at him made him sick to his stomach.
You brush his cheek, and he tries to nuzzle into it, but you pull it away before he can, earning a pitiful whimper from the pink-haired boy. He tries to chase your hand, but you give him a warning glare, and he backs down immediately. “You weren’t supposed to cum. I told you no.”
“Imsorryimsorryimsorry!” Yuuji yelps, gripping at his boxers as tears begin to threaten to fall. “I got too excited. It felt too good. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disappoint you!”
You shake your head at him, pulling away from him. “I don’t like playing with boys who don’t listen.”
The noise that falls from his mouth is pitiful, and even you flinch at the sound. His only goal was to please you, and hearing your words made his heart throb. “No, no, no,” he pleads, “I-I’ll be good again! I’ll listen this time!”
You were sadistic, and he knew you were, so when he saw you smile, more tears cascaded down his face. Alas, you wipe them away and say, "I don't believe you. Do I need to put your ring on again?"
Yuuji hates his cock ring. It was his second least favorite toy you have bought for him. Not being able to cum was one of the most frustrating feelings, especially when he always had so much of it to give.
"No. No I-I dont need my ring," he begs, pawing at your arm. His body was caving over himself, and at this point he was borderline clinging to you, shoving his face into your neck. It was an act to look smaller, more pathetic, and if hopes that he looks meek enough you may take pity on him. "I'll do good this time."
It works, surprisingly enough - you rub the back of his hair and trace his back muscles. He slumps in your hold, knowing well what the affectionate touches meant. Slowly, you move away the arm on his back to his groin, where his cock is already half-hard again.
"You won't cum until I allow you to, yes?"
"Yes," he breathes, relief washing over him at the fact that he isn't going to be punished. "I won't. I promise I won't this time."
Your tongue drags over his neck, and he shivers, eyes shutting and letting out a small gasp. Then, you begin your movements on his cock, sliding your nearly closed palm up and down. His previous cum acts as makeshift lube, and almost instantaneously he grows hard again. It makes you grin at him. "You are quite eager, aren't you, Yuuji?"
"S-Sorry. I just...like it. A lot..." he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut as his mouth drops open.
You lean forward to kiss the scar beneath his right eye, and he lets out a small breathless moan at the soft touch of your lips. "What do you like a lot?"
Yuuji, in return, gulps, flushing a shade of red. He looks at the hand pumping his cock, watching the way your thumb rubs at his plush tip as if daring him to cum again. But still, he manages to respond. "Um-When you touch my...c-cock."
The word was always so embarrassing to him, so lewd sounding. But it was the way you wanted him to refer to it, so he abided by the term that made him feel like he was straight out of a porno.
"That's it," you praise, tilting his head to plant another soft kiss on his mouth. "Will you cum then?"
Yuuji knows better by now, and so he rapidly shakes his head. "No. Not until you allow me to."
He was speaking in between kisses, eyes closed and leaning as close to you as possible.
"And what if you are to wait a week to cum? Make you get out your cage as punishment."
The man's entire body goes rigid, and he quickly pulls away from your mouth, eyes owlish. The hand moves away from the spot between his legs, and he clenches his fists to restrain the urge to force it back.
He seems to be at a loss for words, biting the inside of his cheek and furrowing his eyebrows. A fresh new set of tears slides down his face, but he is quick to wipe them off with the back of his hand.
Although the cockring was torture in the moment, chastity was by far the hardest thing for Yuuji to do. He had a high sex drive, and even going a week without cumming sounded torturous. The longest he has gone is four days without an orgasm, and he was practically pawing at your feet like some sort of attention-starved puppy to get you to touch him.
To trick him into thinking he was going to get another orgasm was cruel, and he was incredibly frustrated. His cock was so hard it was borderline painful, and knowing that he was not going to be granted a release made him unreasonably upset.
But he did disobey you, and you were known to be cruel to him. He looks at your knees and bites his lip. The words come out in a low whisper as if he were almost afraid of them. "I'll go grab m-my cage."
Yuuji begins to pull away from you, heading to the closet to where the devilish toy is located, when suddenly a hand grips the back of his hair and pulls him back to you. His lips forcefully lock onto yours, and immediately your tongue slides into his mouth. He gets so distracted by the suddenness of it all that when he feels the hand back on his cock he lets out a guttural moan that is swallowed by your mouth.
And then you pull away from him, leaving him hazy-eyed and breathless as you lick at the saliva coating your lips. Your other hand thumbs at his lips, and you grin at him, leaning forward. "You're such a good boy, Yuuji. Makes me want to tease you till you run out of tears."
Your thumb has made its way into his mouth, and it presses onto his tongue. The only noise he can make is a low whine, not liking that idea at all but not daring to try to speak with your finger pressed inside his mouth.
But then, much to the boys suprise, you lean forward till you are inches away from his ear and mutter, "You have my permission to cum whenever you like."
And just like a kid in a candy store, Yuuji's eyes lighten.
#mello.writes#dom! reader#dom reader#gn reader#x reader#reader insert#sub itadori#itadori yuuji#yuji itadori x reader#yuji x reader#itadori x reader#yuji itadori smut#yuji smut#itadori smut#jjk smut#jjk x reader#yuuji smut#yuuji x reader#yuuji itadori smut#sub yuji itadori#sub yuuji#sub jjk#sub yuji
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Red
Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.
Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.
*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
You felt sick to your stomach.
"They caught him. Did you hear?"
You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.
"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."
Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.
"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."
You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--
"You shouldn't go in there."
Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.
"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment.
"Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?"
Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.
"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand."
You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.
"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky."
Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.
He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come.
Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin.
"Thank you, Satoru. I love you."
"I love you, too. Be good."
You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.
You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand.
You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it.
"I can smell you."
Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.
Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.
His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.
The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket.
He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.
"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago."
"You were the one who left."
"You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity.
"You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints.
"Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people."
You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water.
"You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?"
"Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed."
You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.
"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky.
"Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."
Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging.
"Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.
"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--"
Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes.
"...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face.
God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.
"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.
Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;
"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."
You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.
"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."
Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.
"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.
"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"
"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."
A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.
"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."
Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.
You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.
From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.
You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.
Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.
The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.
All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.
"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.
You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.
"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.
"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"
"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."
"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.
"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.
Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.
Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".
"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."
You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.
You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.
"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.
"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"
"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.
You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.
"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.
Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.
"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.
Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.
Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--
"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"
Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--
Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.
As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.
"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.
"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.
"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.
Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.
"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.
Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.
"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.
"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.
Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.
"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.
"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.
Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.
"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.
"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.
You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.
"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.
"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.
Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.
Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.
"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"
Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.
Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.
The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.
"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"
Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--
--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"
Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.
Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive.
"--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"
Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you.
Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath.
Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him.
Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone--
"...come with me."
You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance.
"You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me."
You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.
#Curse Nanami#Rednami by pseudowho#Rednami#jjk#kento nanami#jjk nanami#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento#nanami kento smut#kento nanami x y/n#nanami headcanons#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#kento nanami smut#nanami#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami kento fluff#nanami x you#nanami kento angst#nanami angst
650 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
valienterook
Valiente Rook
boostrelaxation
Boost Relaxation
jonathanskarma
stancyspam
reddove18
I need to art more often...
borathyun
Le Destin de la France et le marketing de réseaux