#i could have it all back. maybe i could even get farther than the last time. all it would take is uhh feeling utterly fucking miserable
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#tw ed#saw a picture of myself from when i was *checks notes* at my fucking worst with my ED but that meant i was also Thinner.#i really should Go Back huh. maybe if i did i wouldnt feel. Like This.#it'd prolly mean id start losing my hair again which. not a big fan. BUT.#if i was really dedicated i could also lose my period which. huge fan. that was one of the best things that ever happened to me tbh#i could have it all back. maybe i could even get farther than the last time. all it would take is uhh feeling utterly fucking miserable#having no energy for the most basic stuff let alone singing and thinking about nothing and i mean NOTHING but calories 24/7.#but hey. maybe i could like. lose 5 kg for my troubles and then gain back twice as much when i decide again that i just Cant Live Like This#totally worth it huh#anyway. i miss hating my body A Little Less and people being Nicer to me and everyone telling me how good of a job im doing#and encouraging me to keep going. and i miss the sense of Accomplishment and the Pride and the Not Feeling Disgusting#or at least Making Up For It by just. not eating lol#cause like its not like im actually much better mentally am i lmao clearly im not. only now im both miserable AND fat.#obviously ill never be s/kinny let alone as s/kinny as my friends. ill still look like a glitch in the system and a mistake next to them.#but if i have to be miserable anyway i could at least be. less f/at about it right. maybe then ill be worth something <3#...and other delusions you keep cultivating because there's something deeply and inherently wrong with you#my new bestseller coming soon to your nearest bookshop dont miss it its only $free.99!
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You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !
Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.
Moths Hit the Window
PAIRING: König x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.
WORD COUNT: 5.9k
WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.
A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.
Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.
If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.
König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.
“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”
“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.
“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.
Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.
No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.
“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.
König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.
This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.
“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”
The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.
“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”
Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.
“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”
“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”
“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.
“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”
You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.
He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.
Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”
It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.
But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.
You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.
König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”
You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.
Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”
“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”
“Great!”
“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.
“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.
Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.
“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”
“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”
“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”
Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.
“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”
“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”
“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.
König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”
“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.
In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.
Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.
But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.
The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.
“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.
König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.
Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.
“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”
“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”
König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.
“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”
Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.
Too far.
Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.
You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.
“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.
Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.
Shame that it’s already too late.
Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”
His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.
“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”
By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.
—
Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.
Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.
The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.
Evolve, or die.
“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”
Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.
“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.
“Three minutes.”
“...get to it then. We move in five.”
So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.
“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.
The Lieutenant is one of them.
Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.
“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.
But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.
Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.
The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.
The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.
Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.
You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.
Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.
Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.
Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.
Closer now.
Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.
Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.
The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.
Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.
Your finger slams into the trigger.
—
You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.
Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.
Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.
You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.
In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.
“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.
Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.
It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.
You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.
There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.
“You are late.” König.
He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.
Anyone but you, that is.
König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.
You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.
Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.
“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.
Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.
“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”
Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.
The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.
“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”
“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.
Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”
In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.
Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.
It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.
He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.
“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”
The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.
“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.
“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.
“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”
Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.
“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”
“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”
“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”
“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”
König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.
“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”
He freezes, muscles going taunt.
“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”
Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.
König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.
“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”
“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”
“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.
“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.
There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.
And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.
König kneeled to you and bared himself.
Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.
There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.
Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.
The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.
König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.
But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.
You were reckless.
Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.
A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.
“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.
König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.
“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.
Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.
Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.
You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.
You find none.
“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”
A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.
He speaks with a whispered confession.
“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.
Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.
He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.
For you to come back to him. His partner.
You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.
König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.
The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.
This time, you’re the one to gasp.
“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
adults of jjk x reader
🗯 ! swearing, cuddling, snoring, mentions of the sound of heartbeats, sleepwalking, drooling, insomnia, almost being crushed by Toji !
synopsis; how i interpret jjk characters would be like to share a bed with. — ♡
GOJO; In my opinion I think Gojo snores, not like loud ass snores (well, maybe sometimes), but like soft snores when he’s deep in sleep. The soft noises he admits while asleep always tends to lull you right to sleep even if you weren’t previously tired. Gojo subconsciously cuddles you in his sleep, however, it wasn’t always like this. It took awhile for Gojo to be truly comfortable having someone else sleep in his bed because he had gotten so accustomed to being by himself. One time he even freaked out when he rolled over in bed and felt someone on the other side of his bed, you had to calm him down and reassure him it was just you. Continuing, Gojo sometimes rolls himself off the bed. When you started sleeping in his bed he’d roll to your side and then when his body realized he couldn’t roll any farther he rolled the other way off the bed.
Due to an exhausting day at work, Gojo had headed to bed earlier than usual. You quietly make your way into Gojo’s room seeing him laying shirtless with both his legs and the blankets sprawled chaotically across the bed. A tingly warmth brought its way to your face as you could never quite get over how genuinely attractive and fit your boyfriend was. Crawling into bed with as much cautions as you could muster, you hear the soft snores release from his slightly parted lips. You laid on your back staring at the ceiling until you realized your brain was still quite awake, this is when you made the decision to scroll on your phone for a few. Just as your eyes began to feel tired and had started to close, a loud THUD made your eyes widen and your body sit up. Instinctual, you look over at Gojo to find him not where you had last saw him, you scramble to the other side of the bed to see Gojo rubbing his head which you assume he hit when he fell off the bed. You place yourself between his scrunched up legs to examine his head, giving it a few kisses before looking back into the beautiful eyes you had fallen in love with. A light dust of pink is brushed across his cheeks as he gives you a laugh, you push his shoulder which then results in him pulling you to the ground on top of him. He reaches on the bed and pulls a pillow and a blanket from off of it. Placing the pills under his head and the blanket over you two, there you two fall asleep on the floor together.
GETO; Unlike Gojo, Geto gets immediately used to the feeling of you in bed, so much so that when he doesn’t feel you in his bed he gets worried. He needs to be touching you at all times when you guys are in bed. I believe Geto to be a light sleeper, small things can wake him up but he also falls asleep easily. Geto sleepwalks every now and again, you have to double check all the doors are locked so he doesn’t leave and get hurt or lost. When sleepwalking he doesn’t do anything particularly weird, usually he just walks around and then either goes back to sleep in bed or on the couch. It really freaked you out the first time you found him sleepwalking.
On one particular night you had been falling in and out of sleep constantly making it difficult to truly go to sleep. Geto had his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in your spot next to him. While in the midst of falling in and out of sleep you must’ve not realized his arm had left your waist until you heard noises coming from somewhere outside of the bedroom. Slightly freaked out, you turn to Geto but he’s no where to be seen. Relief began to flood throughout your body as you get up to go looking for your boyfriend.
“Geto what’re you doing up, it’s so late?”
You rub your eyes as they make out Geto’s figure standing completely still in the kitchen.
“Geto?”
No response once again. At this point you were even more freaked out. Hoping he was just messing with you or something, you get closer to him and reach your hand out towards his shoulder. He swiftly turns and heads for the bedroom, freaking you out due to the fast movement. You made an executive decision to just sleep on the couch for the rest of the night.
When morning hit you were woken up by Geto asking you why you were sleeping on the couch, you explained his oddness last night and he apologized before telling you about how every once in awhile he sleepwalks. He made sure to make your favorite breakfast even though you insisted that he didn’t have to do that.
NANAMI; Nanami is also quite a light sleeper, but he needs some kind of noise to put him to sleep as well as complete darkness. Well, if you need some light because you can’t fall asleep in the dark cause it freaks you out he’ll absolutely let you do so. He prioritizes you sleeping over him sleeping. Nanami is always very warm so he usually doesn’t sleep with a blanket but instead a thin sheet of some sort and because his body is often quite warm you don’t have to worry about a blanket you just cling to him. Nanami also makes sure you have a glass of water by your bed every night in case you get thirsty.
Sleep had began to consume you when you and Nanami were curled up on the couch watching a movie and now even more so. Nanami held you up as you wobbled to your shared bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and made sure you were comfortable and cozy. A whine admitted from your mouth causing Nanami to turn back to you. You shiver and begin to rub your upper arms to show him you were cold as he was about to get a blanket, you whined again. With a soft smile on his face, knowing exactly what you wanted, he crawled into the empty space next to you and you buried yourself in his warmth. The warmth of your loving boyfriend drifted you right to sleep so much so that you began to snore a little.
Unfortunately, to your dismay, you had gotten parched in the middle of the night so now here you were trying to move as slowly and quietly as possible out of Nanami’s arms. Which you somehow successfully did and were currently tip-toeing to the kitchen but as you opened the door and stepped out of the room an obnoxiously loud creaked echoed through the room instantly waking up Nanami.
“My love? Why are you awake?” Nanami’s soft voice asks.
“Um..I was thirsty”
“Let me get it for you” He quickly gets out of bed and passes by you to get you a glass of water from the kitchen.
When he comes back and hands it to you, you give him a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek for his act of kindness. After that, you two are back to sleep in no time.
SHOKO; Sleep hasn’t been in Shoko’s vocabulary for awhile, she’s an insomniac after all. However, she tries her best to get as much sleep as her body will allow when you give her those big, pleading eyes. Who is she to say no to someone as cute as you? She has noticed that she sleeps more when she sleeps with you so now you try to sync your sleep schedule to hers, well, for the most part at least. You’ve even gotten her to take melatonin. If Shoko gets tired somewhere and falls asleep in your lap then you’ll stay there until she wakes up. To be honest, you’re just happy she’s sleeping.
You were sitting in the morgue waiting for Shoko to finish up what she was doing when you felt something in your lap. There laid Shoko’s head. You couldn’t contain your smile as you grazed your fingers through her hair. It didn’t take very long for Shoko to fall asleep, you knew it wouldn’t. She had a long day and she’d been exhausted since the minute she started. So, you spent this time admiring every bug and small feature that graced your girlfriend’s gorgeous face. Everything about her was beautiful, she’s beautiful.
A few hours pass when Gojo walks in about to be his usual loud self when you give him a glare and hold your finger up to your lips. He marvels at the sight of a peaceful Shoko fast asleep in your lap.
“Wow, you got her to sleep. You deserve an award for that”
You roll your eyes at the man’s joke before looking back at the women in your lap.
“God you’re really in love with her”
In seconds, a red hue tints your cheeks as you flip Gojo off. He laughs knowing he just read you so easily, but in your mind all you could think is how could someone not love Shoko.
“Are you sure you’re okay staying like that? Your legs must hurt”
“I’m fine Gojo, I’d rather have her get as much as she can”
Gojo leaves you two be so he doesn’t accidentally wake up Shoko and is forced to face your wrath.
UTAHIME; Utahime will never admit it but she loves to listen to your heartbeat to fall asleep. The sound just calms her so easily. Utahime is a heavy sleeper, she very rarely will wake up if you accidentally make noise. She doesn’t mind if you have your head laying on her shoulder or your holding hands when you sleep but she needs her own space. You both like to have your own sense of space but there are times where she wants to be closer (aka when she wants to listen to your heartbeat)
The sunshine soaked you and Utahime in its rays as you lay in the grass relishing in the warmth. The mix of the warm sun on her skin and the sound of your heartbeat echoing throughout her brain made her start to feel really sleep. She tried her best to stay awake but was soon succumbed to sleep. You watched as her eyes fought to stay open before fluttering closed. Her porcelain like skin shined brightly in the sun as you begin to feel yourself drifting to sleep and soon enough you are also sleeping in the warm rays of the sun with Utahime peaceful asleep on top of you.
INO; Ino is a big cuddler, to be fair he’s a big softy in general. He prefers being little spoon and will proudly admit that to the world. Now don’t get me wrong he has his moments where he wants you to be little spoon mostly because he likes the sight of you laying on top of him. Anyways, he snores AND drools when he sleeps but it’s not a lot of drool like it’s just a little bit and it’s actually so cute. He’s cute (he’s very pookie). He doesn’t exactly snore quietly but it isn’t that loud, like it’s not unbearable. He also cannot sleep without you now that you’ve started sleeping in the same bed.
Ino had been talking about how exhausted he was waiting for a call from his job so you told him, he could just fall asleep on top of you and you’d wake him up when he got a call from his job. He thanked you and in no time he was sleeping soundly.
It didn’t take very long for the exhausted Ino to fall into a deep sleep and begin to snore. You had to hold back your giggles to not make the boy centimeters away from you. Not long after that he had began to drool on your chest. It was slightly gross but his cute face as he slept was far greater than any kind of grossness. You held him closer as if it might make you two fuse together so neither of you will ever have to leave each other.
To both of your guys dismay, his phone rings and you’re forced to wake him up. As he blinks his eyes open and picks up the phone he realizes the drool stain on your shirt. A pinkish blush spread to his face as he scratches his head and mouths the words ‘sorry’. You kiss his free hand, letting him know that it’s okay. He smiles at you and give you a kiss on your head before returning back to his call.
TOJI; This man is pretty damn huge, he’s a fucking wall for crying out loud so the only space you ever really have is if you lay on top of him. I mean, hell, he’s not complaining. Sometimes you have to check if he’s dead because he sleeps so heavily and doesn’t make any noise. Toji does have a tendency to roll around in his sleep which isn’t always good for you cause he has almost crushed you a few times.
It was a peaceful night of sleeping. Toji had held you especially close since he had been gone for so long. Every bump and curve of your body was kissed by Toji. He hadn’t left your side since he came back, and you weren’t complaining. Once night fell and the moon came out, Toji hurried you off to bed. Toji wouldn’t outwardly admit it but he missed you sleeping on top of him. It just felt right with you and so when you weren’t there he began to sleep less.
As you crawl your way on top of Toji, he smirks at you and caresses your face in his hands. Purely on instinct you push your face farther into his hand, enjoying the feeling of his skin on yours. He leans in to give you a goodnight kiss, this one lasts longer than usual but you don’t mind at all. Within no time at all you two are sound asleep. Toji is so sound asleep that he begins to turn his body, an action you don’t notice until it’s too late.
Ot only takes you a few seconds to realize that there’s a giant hunk of a man crushing your rib cage. You try pushing him back over, doesn’t work. You try poking and smacking him, hoping that he’ll wake up, doesn’t work. You try wiggling your way out and that works for a few but it also takes a lot of energy out of you. You pinch him and he stirs a minute so you continue with that until he grumbles and his eyes open with an annoyed look. That soon fades (for the most part) when he realizes he’s laying in top of you. Quickly, he moves and places you back into op if his chest. You thank him and tell him to never do that ever again. He just shrugs and goes back to sleep while playing with your hair.
☆ | I struggled a bit with Utahime’s and Ino’s so sorry if they aren’t what you expected them to be!!
#luv₊˚꒰🩰꒱‧#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#shoko ieiri x reader#shoko x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#ino takuma x reader#ino x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#utahime iori x reader#utahime x reader#jjk x reader
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the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi
word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that)
warnings: swearin'
summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway.
(a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it
___
“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly. “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?”
And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t. It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends. The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.
He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition. He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting. Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.
Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store. But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.
Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town. As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.
Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake. It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.
“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?”
Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster. He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera. His brows wrinkle.
“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle”
He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics. He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold. He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.
“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again. “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”
Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow. He doesn’t dislike her company.
Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture. It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.
“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.
“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable. “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now. “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.
He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.
“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him. “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny”
Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.
He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today. However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject. His palms began to sweat.
It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether. So that narrowed down the options by a lot.
He knew that like him, she liked to read. But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.
Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it?
“Wait, stay right there!”
Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place. Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.
“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face. “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.
Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything. When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face. Nobara wouldn’t be happy.
But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.
“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him. “It’d be nice to—”
“Stop moving”
He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens. (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.
“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.
Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him. For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.
She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat. It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.
“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki”
That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.
“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture. “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?”
“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young. “Dozens, at least. It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything”
When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face. Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.
“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors. “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases.
Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top. She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.
He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.
(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.
“Was he a scrapbook mom?”
He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t. Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth. She’s laughing before he even explains.
“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her. “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly. (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up. “It took him weeks. I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month”
“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.
“I wish I was. I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged. “But it’s… a lot. Every sheet was three dimensional. The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat”
He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now. Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous. If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs. That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.
“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind. “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive”
“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.
“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot. Megumi waits beside her. He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch. “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little. All parents say it goes by fast”
She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise. Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was. But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor. But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.
He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.
When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.
“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos. Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.
Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower. It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away. Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.
“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.
“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.
“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will. He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled. Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.
“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head. “Take my photo like this!”
It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.
Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.
Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk. Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.
Hang outs never turned out like this. Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline. She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away. It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.
Today was like a gloomy day miracle. He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself. All of her laughter and smiles were only for him. It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.
(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up. She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.
“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop. (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends. “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her. “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.
After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back. Just because it was nice to be so close to him.
Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers. There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.
“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”
The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.
“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.
He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter. She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.
Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit. After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.
And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything. Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.
“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon. “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”
“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him. “Doesn’t have to be realistic. Don’t you have a dream pet?”
“I kinda already have a lot of pets”
“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks. Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly. But it was really cute. “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.
He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face. (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.
“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.
“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.
“I’m eating—”
“So? Not like you have food on your face. Hush. Go back to eating or something”
“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat”
“Alright then just sit there then”
She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late. Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.
The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.
“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table. “Guess I win”
(y/n) laughs to herself.
“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down. “But I can’t believe you finished before me”
“How many do you have left?”
Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left. She frowns as she looks back up at him.
“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?”
___
Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands. (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing. By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.
“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—”
But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.
The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling. It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.
The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe. Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.
Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.
“What the—?”
Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower. At least that one captured her smile. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously
“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude”
“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.
He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now. If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice. He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.
So Nobara kept flipping.
One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch. It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.
The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame. Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.
There was a decent one taken from inside the shop. (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets. Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one. Almost.
And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face. Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.
Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi. Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him. It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.
He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.
“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.
“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use. Nobara’s already speaking over him again.
“It’s almost pathetic, dude. Just ask her out like a normal person”
His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock. Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something. But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action. Maybe he should have assumed that already.
He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well. Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.
The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands. There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.
“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends. “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong. But I think she should pay him for his time”
There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out. He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.
“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.
“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store. “I want to get boba before home”
“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly. “Let’s go”
As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him. After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance. Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.
(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.
“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket. Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.
“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands. She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.
Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.
“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful. (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack. He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.
“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway. But… they’re sort of all..”
His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.
The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him. He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there. She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.
The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.
The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing. He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt. He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was. But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been. He was actually smiling.
Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture. He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.
He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.
So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one. Which was… also him. It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.
When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.
She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile. His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.
And to his shock and delight, they’re all him. Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.
His favorite is the one of the both of them. She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style. They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself. She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign. Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know. It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too.
Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back. She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.
Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.
“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.
“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.
He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures. When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing. His throat is too dry and hot to even try. He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.
(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken. His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him. Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.
And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos. His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life. He very well could pass out at any moment. He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.
The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle. It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably. As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves. They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.
When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile. She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.
“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes. This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.
(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her. She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it. With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.
“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?”
He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to. But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.
“You mean— like, a date?”
It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification. (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.
“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.
Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it. Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.
“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not. The look he gives her barely hides his panic.
“They’re gonna see them?”
“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.
The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar. The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively. That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.
“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”
(y/n) nods in agreement.
“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.
With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him. Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted. It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body. He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—
“So… where do we want to go?”
—and more days to come.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi imagine#fushiguro megumi x reader fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk imagine#jujutsu kaisen imagine#megumi brainrot
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OFF LIMITS
nico hischier x hughes sister!reader
part 2: I Know available now!
It’s not the first time they’ve run into you on a night out, and Nico’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. You live in New York, close enough that your paths overlap quite often. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you this drunk. On top of that, it’s the first time Nico’s run into you without your brothers with him.
Jack may be younger than you, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in overprotectiveness. When they run into you at a bar, Nico rarely gets a chance to even say a word to you before Jack is questioning how much you’ve had to drink or why you’re even out in the first place.
But Jack is in Toronto, for the All Stars game, and Luke’s still too young to be out at a bar and is also out of town, and you’re there, standing under a neon sign, leaning up against the wall. You look hazy. Out of it. There’s a guy standing nearly over you, arm next to your head on the wall. Nico’s stomach twists.
“Isn’t that Hughes’ sister?” Someone asks.
Nico nods, juts his chin at the scene unfolding. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”
His teammate lets out a snort. “Was wondering the same thing.”
Nico keeps a watchful eye on the situation for just a moment. He doesn’t want to overstep, but something feels off. When you put your hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to push him away, and he stays put, caging you in farther, the switch flips. He’s gone from concerned friend to overprotective captain within a second. He passes his beer off to someone and makes his way across the bar in a few short steps.
“Hey man. Back off.” He snaps.
The guy turns with a glare. Nico stands his ground. Your eyes meet his, and he watches relief wash over your face. He knows then that he’s made the right choice.
“I saw her first,” the guy sneers.
Nico really didn’t want to get in a fight tonight. He was supposed to have a chill night out with the guys, maybe talk to a couple girls, get his mind off of… things. But now he’s here.
“Nico,” you say, softly, and he watches the guy’s face drop as he realizes you know Nico.
“Hi,” he says, kindly and quietly to you. He juts his chin at the guy and shoves his shoulder firmly. “Get lost.”
The man melts away into the crowd. Nico watches him go. Then he turns back to you, to where you’re leaning against the wall, doe eyed and drunk as hell as you stare up at him. His breath gets caught in his throat for just a moment- if your brothers knew the things he thought about when you looked at him like that, they’d have his head. Jack and Luke are a bit oblivious, he thinks. He’s lucky he’s not around you and Quinn at the same time very often. There was that game last year, in Vancouver- you in your Devils jersey, elbowing him lightly, and Quinn’s glare trained on him, one raised brow, like he was just waiting for Nico to take a wrong step.
“My hero,” you say, reaching out to tug on his wrist.
Your words are extremely slurred, and when he gets a closer look he realizes you’re probably close to blacking out. The light is gone from your eyes. He winces.
“Okay, schatz,” he says. He ruffles your hair just to get you to stop staring up at him through your eyelashes, afraid of the way it makes his heart jump. “Can I call someone to come get you?”
You shrug. “Where’s Jacky? Or Lukey?”
Nico groans. “Toronto, and who knows. Not here, though.”
You purse your lips. “Right.” You dig in your pocket for your phone, find it, and Nico watches you try and turn the screen on with no luck- it’s dead. “Huh. That’s not good.”
And… Nico could call one of your brothers. Could ask for some sort of phone number- a roommate or a friend or anyone. But as you stare up at him, you lean away from the wall and fall into his chest, and he knows he needs to act quickly. Preferably before you pass out at the bar.
…..
You don’t remember the walk out of the bar, or the car ride, or the elevator up to the apartment that you’re sure you must’ve taken. Your world zaps back into focus on the entryway of Nico’s apartment. You’ve been here twice- both for parties. It’s different when it’s not full of people. Feels more like Nico.
You toe your shoes off in the doorway. Nico swipes them to the side with his foot and then reaches out to catch you when you stumble. You lean into his shoulder and laugh- he smells good, like honey and whiskey. You want to breathe him in. He laughs, too- you can tell by the way his broad shoulders shake.
He leads you out of the entryway and into the kitchen. He grabs you by your hips to maneuver you, and you nearly squeal at the feeling of his fingers splayed against your body. Instead, when he moves you to lean against the counter, you sigh. You brace yourself, elbows on the granite, and stare up at him as he moves through the room.
“Stop staring at me like that,” he says in a warning tone.
“Like what?” You ask, innocently.
If he’d look at you, you’d bat your eyelashes at him. But he’s not looking, and you’re not going to waste your energy. He has his head in the fridge, an empty glass in his hand. He returns with a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass before sliding it over to you.
He never clarifies what he means by staring like that. You want to circle back to it, but you’re getting really tired, and the water is cool and refreshing. You laugh when you spill a little bit, the water running down your chin and neck. Nico just groans and rolls his eyes.
“You’re drunk,” he states, like you both didn’t already know it.
You nod. “I had a lotta tequila.”
He gives you a look of exasperation mixed with affection. “Trying to forget?”
You shrug. “Something like that.”
Once you’ve finished the glass, he starts maneuvering you again, hands on your shoulders this time as he walks you down the hallway. You wonder what it would be like to have him do this all the time- maybe when you’re not drunk. Does he manhandle his girlfriends, his dates, like this? Maybe manhandle isn’t the right word. You don’t feel handled, you feel… taken care of. Like he’s making sure you’re exactly where you should be. It’s sweet. It makes you shiver just a little bit.
He mistakes the movement for a chill, and he rubs his hands up and down your shoulders. You sigh. The two of you step into the bathroom, and he digs through the drawer until he finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and he hands them both to you.
You stumble your way towards the bedroom five minutes later, his hands on your hips again. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and leads you to the bed, having you sit down on the edge while he heads for the dresser. You look around. You’ve been to his place, but never here. It’s… calm. Quiet. The sheets and duvet beneath you are soft, and the lamp next to the bed casts a warm glow over everything. He has trophies taking up space on his desk. The bed is unmade, blankets rumpled and messy.
“Always wondered what your room looked like,” you say.
His shoulders tense, though he shakes it out a few moments after. “Yeah?”
You nod, forgetting he isn’t looking at you, and then supplement with words. “Can learn a lot about a person from their bedroom.”
He laughs and looks over his shoulder at you. “What have you learned, then?”
You shrug and cast your eyes to the ceiling. He goes back to rifling through the drawers. You flop backwards onto the end, laughing lightly at the way it bounces beneath you.
Something lands on your stomach- a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You pick them up and hold them above your head.
“Get changed,” he says. When you lean up to look at him, the whole room spins. He sighs, like he can tell. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”
…..
Nico nearly panics five minutes later, because he knocks on the door to ask if you’re decent and you don’t answer. He’s torn between worry about seeing something he shouldn’t, and worry about you dying- one of them trumps the other, so he shoves his way into the room frantically.
You’re laid out on the bed, swallowed up by his t-shirt, the drawstring of the shorts pulled tight around your waist. Your lips are just barely parted, soft sighs escaping with each rise and fall of your chest. You’re asleep. He could leave you, but right now you’re asleep on your back, and very drunk, and he’s worried you’re going to throw up and- they warned him about that, years ago, when he first started going to parties. Friends don’t let friends sleep on their backs.
He crawls up onto the bed and tucks you into the blankets. Then he rolls you onto your side, and sighs when you immediately try to roll back onto your back. He repeats the process, and this time you groan loudly in response. Without really thinking about it, he sits down on the bed behind you and props his leg against your back. That seems to keep you in place- you lean into the warmth but you don’t try to roll over again.
So. That’s great, except, now he’s stuck. Realistically, he was going to stay anyways. If he was the last person to see you and something awful happened, he’d never forgive himself, and neither would your brothers. So it’s fine, really, that you’re leaning against him, but… you’re warm, and breathing softly, and your hair is strewn all over the pillowcase, and god, he hates the way it all makes him blush.
He can’t do anything about it, especially not now, with the state you’re in. So he just sits and watches you sleep, the way he’s sort of always dreamed about.
Hours later, Nico’s woken from a half asleep state by a loud noise- it’s his cell phone, ringing on the nightstand. He scrambles to pick up, blinking blearily at the screen. 4:53 am, and Jack is calling him. He wouldn’t normally answer, but it’s Jack, and by now he’s probably heard about you, so he swipes to take the call.
“It’s not even 5am, Jack,” he says softly.
“Hischier.” A voice returns- it’s not Jack.
“Quinn.” He replies, carefully.
He keeps his voice low. His gaze flickers down to you. You’re asleep -on your side, thank god- one arm wrapped around his leg. He swallows tightly and carefully brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. You don’t stir.
“It’s not even 5am,” he repeats.
Quinn scoffs. “I know. Woke up to go do some early morning training, and imagine my surprise when I see about ten texts from various people telling me you took my baby sister home with you last night.”
Right. Everybody knows everybody in the NHL. Nico rolls his eyes. You’re older than both Jack and Luke- you’re not a baby. He refrains from saying that, though- knowing it’ll only upset Quinn more. He may sound relatively calm now, but Nico can sense the undercurrent of tension.
“It’s not like that,” Nico says.
“Right. And you’re just whispering for the fun of it, then? Not because you’re afraid to wake her?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was wasted. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her. Did they tell you about how I nearly punched a guy to get him to leave her alone?”
He hears Quinn falter whatever he was going to say next. Then he speaks up again. “Doesn’t explain why you’re close enough to her right now that you’d need to be whispering.”
“I was worried she was going to choke on her own vomit,” Nico says curtly. “So I stayed up most of the night making sure she stayed on her side.”
“Right, sure, by what- curling up with her?” Quinn sneers.
Nico slumps down against the headboard. “Jesus, Hughes. You trusted me to take care of your brothers. You said that yourself. You can’t trust me with this?”
“It’s a bit different and we both know it,” Quinn says.
Nico figures that’s fair. If it was his sister… he understands. He just wishes Quinn would give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Look, man. Nothing happened. I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm her, alright? We ran into her at a bar, she was wasted and by herself and trying to push some guy away and he wasn’t letting up. So I put a stop to it, and we couldn’t call any of her friends because her phone was dead. And not sure if you’ve noticed, but your brothers are out of town. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
He hears Quinn sigh. “You just happened to be there to save the day?”
Nico groans, this time a bit too loudly. You shift next to him, and suddenly you’re awake, blinking up at him with soft eyes. His heart catches in his chest. You wrinkle your nose, likely in confusion at the sight of him on the phone at 5am. He mouths your brother’s name, and your confusion only grows. You gesture for the phone.
“Quinn,” you say, sleepily. “It’s 5am. Why the fuck are you calling?”
Nico can’t hear what your brother is saying anymore- a welcome reprieve, really. You roll your eyes and he holds back a laugh. When he meets your gaze, you’re fighting a laugh, too, he thinks.
“So you called because you were checking on me, right?” You ask, blinking up at Nico. “Not to harass my friend, right? Because that would be a rude thing to do at 5am, you know.”
You’re quiet for a few more moments. Then you yawn and roll your eyes again. “Okay. Well. I’m fine. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”
You hang up on him. Nico’s torn between laughter and panic, wondering if Quinn’s going to call again. The phone stays silent in your hand, though. He takes it from you, sets it down on the nightstand carefully. Your arm wraps back around his leg, and he tries not to let it make him sigh in relief.
“Sorry about him,” you say, quietly. “He’s like a guard dog. But one of those little yappy ones.”
Nico laughs. “Ankle biter.”
You nod and laugh, too. “Why’d you even answer?”
Nico drags a hand down his face. “He called from Jack’s phone.”
“Sneaky little bitch,” you scoff.
He shrugs. “To be fair, I probably should’ve at least let someone know where you were. If I’d woken up to a message about my sister like the one Quinn probably got…” he scrubs at the hair on his jaw. “Not sure I’d have reacted differently.”
You huff- your warm breath washes over his leg. “You hockey players are a bunch of gossips, you know that?”
He grumbles at that, not even giving it a real response. He slumps down further against the headboard, eyes feeling heavy, head feeling even heavier. You pat your hand against his knee and sigh.
“You should lay down,” you mumble.
He sighs. “Yeah. If you’re feeling okay I can go to the couch. Didn’t want to leave you alone, I was scared you’d throw up.”
You stare up at him. He stares right back. Pretty eyes. God, your brothers would kill him.
“No, like, just- lay down,” you tell him, patting the bed next to you. “It’s your bed.”
His heart does a somersault. His stomach follows suit. He shouldn’t. Jack will punch him, Luke will deliver the final blow, and then Quinn will fly down from Canada to stomp on his grave. But he’s exhausted, and the bed is comfy, and you… you’re there, like he’s always dreamed. He won’t touch you. He’ll just lay down right next to you, barely under the blankets, plenty of space between the two of you in his big bed. It’ll be fine.
…..
You wake up hours later with a raging headache and your head against Nico’s chest. You nearly panic until you remember who he is. Then you worry he’ll think it’s weird, having you pressed against him like this, but you realize his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. He’s strong. You know that, but it’s different to feel it for yourself, the way the thick muscle presses against your back. His cheek is resting on top of your head, too, and he’s just barely snoring, soft sounds through his lips.
You’d stay right there forever if your head didn’t hurt so bad.
When you try to wiggle free, he holds on tighter, groaning softly. You try to pry his arm off your waist and he grunts this time. When he finally wakes up enough to be somewhat coherent, he doesn’t let go.
“Whatimesit?” He asks groggily, lips brushing against your forehead.
“Dunno,” you admit. “Head hurts. S’there ibuprofen in your cupboard?”
He groans softly and then peels his arm away. Before you can make a move, he rolls out of bed and stumbles towards the bathroom. You watch him go and try to pretend you don’t shiver at the roll of his back muscles beneath his t-shirt. He comes back with a glass of water and pills in his hands.
You fight a laugh at the sight of him, sleep rumpled and groggy, brows furrowed tightly. You push yourself up to sit up, leaning on your left hand and rubbing your eyes sleepily with your right. He hands over the water and the pills. You take them eagerly.
You blink up at him after you down the whole glass and cock your head. “Did I dream that Quinn called?”
Nico snorts and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Nope. That was real life.”
You roll your eyes. “Overprotective asshole.”
Nico laughs at that, eyes slipping closed. “Like I said. If I were him, I’d have had the same reaction.”
You let yourself fall back down to the bed. “Right, like you’d ever…” you cut yourself off with a laugh. “I mean, he and Jack and Luke are always so worried about teammates being into me or something. It’s ridiculous.”
Nico laughs, but it sounds hollow. You lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You’re already planning how you’re going to chew Quinn out for this one.
“I don’t blame him,” Nico says, quieter this time. “Just wish he wouldn’t have called so early.”
You close your eyes. “He’s annoying. Why’s he worried? Like… none of you guys have ever shown any interest in me, so. ”
Your lack of dating hockey players is not for lack of trying. There’d been Quinn’s teammates in college, and Jack’s from the other teams, too. You’ve had crushes that you’ve eventually let fizzle out after getting nothing in return. Nico’s the only crush that’s stuck around this long. Because despite the fact that you can barely even call him your friend, sometimes he pulls shit like this- taking you back to his place and staying up late to take care of you, fielding phone calls from your protective older brother. Nico’s a giant human teddy bear. You think at this point it’s gone beyond a crush.
“Why d’you think that is?” Nico asks, breaking you from your train of thought.
“Why do I think what is?” You reply.
You swear you feel his hand brush against your wrist.
“That none of us ever show any interest?” He says.
He’s quiet. Quieter, at least. More tentative. Softer. You pry one eye open and look up at him, and you swear he’s blushing. Hm.
“Because…you’re not- nobody’s interested?” You say, softer than even him.
He tilts his head. Your mouth feels dry.
“You remember the first Devils game you came to?” He asks. You nod, and he continues. “Before the game, in the locker room, Jack mentioned his sister was going to be there, and, well, you know how hockey players are. Couple people made comments about wanting to meet you, asked if you’d be at the afterparty. Jack made it pretty clear you were off limits. And, you know. Guys do that shit all the time, get overprotective over their sisters, and it’s never been, you know, an issue. Half the time I don’t even meet the guys’ family, you know?”
He trails off and scrubs his hand through his hair. You watch him closely.
“But that night, after the game, I was leaving and I saw… this girl. This beautiful girl. And she was wearing a Hughes jersey, and I was…” he laughs and closes his eyes. “I was coming up with all these stupid pick up lines, about how I was better than him, and I was walking towards her, and I swear I looked away for a second and then Jack was there. Hugging you, and glaring at me over your shoulder. I got the message.”
You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I hate my brothers.”
Nico laughs. “In Luke’s defense…”
“Don’t defend any of them, Luke’s the worst of them, he’s just quiet about it,” you scoff. “He chased my college boyfriend out of my dorm with a hockey stick.”
Nico laughs. You laugh, too, but you shake your head. He nudges his knee against yours. When his thumb brushes against your wrist this time, you open your eyes. That blush is there, soft and rosy on his cheeks.
“So you get it, then,” he says, head tilted as he blinks down at you. His hair is falling over his forehead messily. “Why I’ve never made a move.”
You’re so busy trying to process all the information of the day that you almost miss it. Why I’ve never made a move. It could’ve been a fleeting moment, just a quick crush when he saw you the first time, but something about this tells you it’s not. He presses his thumb to your pulse point on your wrist, and the warmth of his hand on your skin makes you shiver slightly. You stare up at him and chew on your lower lip.
“I think you should ask me about my limits,” you say, quietly. “They’re a lot different than my brothers’, you know.”
The grin on Nico’s face grows wider. “S’that so?”
You nod eagerly. He lets out a low, slow breath, like he’s bracing for impact. Something in your chest aches. He plants a hand next to your head and leans towards you, and your heart leaps in your throat.
“What’re your limits on kissing hockey players?” He asks. His other hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes his thumb against your Cupid’s bow. “Y’know. If the opportunity were to come up.”
You shrug. “Would depend on the player, I suppose.”
He nods in understanding, pursing his lips. “How about… hm. 6’1”, brown hair, brown eyes. Team captain. Nice guy, I guess. Would definitely make sure you got home safe from the bar.”
You reach up and draw a hesitant line on his jaw with your fingertip. “Team captain, huh? I do like a man in charge.”
He nods. You nod back. For a moment, the two of you sit in limbo.
In the end, you’re the one to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to kiss him. When you do, though, he responds eagerly. He cages you in with both arms, and as you melt for him, he does the same for you. It’s a sweet kiss, one full of hope and excitement. You’re surrounded by him, by his arms and his touch and the smell of him on the sheets. You’ve never been more happy you ran into him at a bar than in that very moment.
…..
You’re back in that same bar from weeks ago, standing under the very same neon light. Except this time, there’s no guy hovering over you, and this time, you and Nico both know the other is going to be there. He’s at the bar, pretending he’s just noticed you, smiling and waving as he orders. You shake your empty cup at him, and he nods.
He wanders over a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He leans against the wall next to you and hands you the cup. The neon light glows bright on his dark hair. You sip your drink and smile up at him. Politely. Friendly. Nothing more. He’s a polite, friendly distance away. There’s space between the two of you.
“If we’re gonna make this believable, you’re going to have to come say hello to the rest of the team,” he says.
You nod. “In a minute.”
Across the bar, one of his teammates is yelling about a game on the screen. For now, you want just a minute with Nico. A moment for just the two of you. One where he’s not your brothers’ team captain, but your boyfriend instead.
The word feels new in your brain, would feel even newer on your lips if you said it. So far, you’ve only tried it out a couple times- when he asked the question, and then after that in the bathroom mirror, a wide grin on your face. You haven’t told anyone else. Nico’s worried about Jack and Luke’s reactions, and the season’s almost done- he wants to wait to tell them afterwards, when the results of a game won’t rest so heavily on how they take the news. It’s been a lot of staying in dates, movie nights at home on his couch, which both of you are partial to anyways. And lots of this, too- seemingly chance meetings at local bars, quick texts from him telling you where he’s headed with his friends and you showing up, purely coincidental to anyone other than him.
Eventually, you follow him through the crowd of people to a secluded corner full of hockey players. You spot your brothers, blissfully unaware, nursing matching beers. Just before everyone catches sight of the two of you, Nico sneaks a hand back and squeezes yours. You smile brightly.
“Look who I found!” Nico calls out.
He moves his grip on your hand to your wrist, raises your arm like you’ve won a fight. You laugh and shake your arm free of his hold. You’re met with cheers from the team, loudest of all from your brothers. You can wait to tell them. For now, the way he smiles at you is more than enough.
…..
“Should we just tell them we know they’re… a thing?” Luke asks.
Jack shakes his head, watching you and Nico. “Nah. Let ‘em sweat. She’ll slip up eventually, or he’ll start to freak out.” He sees Nico reach to grab your hip, then pull back at the last second like he’s been burned. A mix of disgust and amusement passes through him- you’re his sister, after all. “Jesus, dunno why they think they’re fooling anyone.”
Jack’s known since the day he got back and saw you at lunch. You’d been overly happy but basically refused to talk about your impromptu stay at Nico’s. Then, he’d seen Nico at practice, and he’d been much the same. By the time the team had gone out to a bar and you mysteriously happened to show up, he’d had his suspicions and had relayed them to Luke. They’d watched you and Nico leave the bar together one night when you thought nobody was looking.
Luke laughs. “Okay, but, when do we tell Quinn?”
Jack turns to him with wide eyes. “We don’t! D’you want our captain to die?”
Luke directs his gaze back towards you and the aforementioned captain. Jack follows suit and tries not to roll his eyes. The two of you aren’t touching, but the smiles on your faces say it all.
“I mean,” Luke starts quietly. “They’re kind of cute. And we want them to be happy, right?”
“Don’t even start,” Jack says firmly.
He’ll let it go for now, in the interest of finishing out the season on a good note. But after that, all bets are off. Definitely. Probably. Jack’s the one who set the rules, who declared you off limits, and he’ll stick to his word.
No matter how much the two of you together are starting to grow on him.
Part 2: I Know
if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! i hope you’ve enjoyed
#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier fanfic#Nico hischier fic#Nico hischier fluff#Nico hischier oneshot#Nico hischier fanfiction#Nico hischier imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfic#nhl oneshot#nhl fluff
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don’t stop- peeta mellark
summary: a heated make out turns into something more🤭
warnings: SMUT (16+)⚠️ heavy making out, dry humping
authors note: first time writing for peeta so please be kind:) this is one of my fav kind of smut prompts to read and there is absolutely no peeta smut anywhere😓😓i hope you guys enjoy:)
Something had come over you.
It was very rare that you felt so incredibly desperate for your boyfriend, but today that overwhelming feeling hit you like a freight train.
You didn’t know what had made you feel this way. It could have been the way his strong arms looked this morning when he was moving furniture for Haymitch, so perfectly toned and sculpted. Or it could have been the way he held you in his arms this morning and kissed you until your lips were flushed and swollen. Or maybe it was the way his towel hung so lowly around his hips when he stepped out of the shower this afternoon with water droplets still clinging to his abs.
That boy had been driving you crazy all day and you simply could not focus on anything. He consumed your every thought and all you wanted to do was touch him. You found your mind drifting toward the dirtiest thoughts and tried to squeeze you legs together to suppress the frustrated ache building between your legs.
But lucky for you, that same boy was now pinned underneath you in nothing but his boxers with his hands up your shirt groaning everytime you moved above him.
What had started as gentle and loving makeout session escalated to something far more needy and passionate.
Peeta looked so beautiful underneath you, his blonde hair still damp from his shower messily laid across his forehead, his tan chest flexing underneath your touch, his lips glistening with your saliva.
You were straddled on his lap, thighs on either side of his with your hands moving back and forth from his shoulders to his hair. He had one hand on your waist, pulling you closer to his chest and one hand under your shirt, toying with the waistband of your underwear.
Neither of you had come up for air. You were both so desperate for eachother and so obsessed with the other you couldn’t stop. Every kiss was so intense it felt like it could be your last.
After being lost in your own thoughts for a moment, you broke the kiss and shifted your focus to Peeta’s neck, which you knew would drive him absolutely insane. You began to gently suck and bite his neck and then swipe over the spot with your toungue.
Peeta was loving every moment of it.
His gasps and hums quickly turned into groans as his hands left your hips and went straight to gripping your ass.
“You’re so good baby” he groaned into your hair.
You wanted more, you wanted to make him a mess underneath you. You needed it. And you knew exactly how to do it.
While still sucking on his neck, you began to grind your hips onto Peeta. You knew exactly how to roll your hips into Peeta's; a way that would make his eyes roll back into his skull and make his jaw fall slack.
"Oh my god babe" he gasped into your ear.
His fingers tugged the messy hair at the nape of your neck and pulled your closer. You thought you couldn't be any more intertwined with Peeta.
You were wrong.
You felt the obvious bulge in his boxers growing underneath you which only made you grind onto him harder. You wanted nothing more than to hear his sweet moans and feel his fingers leave delicious bruises on your hips.
"Baby if you keep going, I'm gonna come." he breathed into your neck.
"Fine by me" you whispered with a cheeky grin pasted on your face.
You moved your leg farther up his body, your kneecap resting against his ribs. You kept grinding on him, the new angle impossibly more intense than before.
Peeta's groans turned throatier and deeper. His eyes were screwed shut as his beautiful sounds were lost in your neck and your collarbone. He wrapped his arm under your leg and pulled you even tighter on him and started to use his hands to grind you onto him even harder. He was getting desperate now.
"It's so good babe, I can-"
His praise was interrupted by a shaky moan. You could tell he was on the edge.
"Come on Peeta, let go babe." you whispered sinfully into his ear.
You started to bounce slightly on him and you could feel him everywhere. You pressed your lips under the base of his ear, making small breathy moans into his ear.
One last roll of your hips and Peeta was coming undone. His groans echoed the room and he came hard. His biceps caged around your and held you on his warm and glistening chest as he grinded his hips into you to ride out his high.
He was so beautiful when he was like this, and the fact that you were the only one who got to see him in this state turned you on more than you could even begin to describe.
After coming back from the heaven you had sent him to, you leaned down to kiss him softly.
"I can't believe you just made me come in my boxers." he laughed into your lips.
"I'm pretty good huh?"
"I think your a little better than good baby."
You smiled back into his mouth and began to roll off of him. But before you had the chance, he was pulling you back and under him.
"Not so fast babe. Gotta make you feel good too." he murmured into your lips.
Before you knew it, he was hovering over you with his knee between your legs and your heart was racing.
Part 2?
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Not So Grumpy
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!pregnant!reader
Summary: Tim is grumpier than usual, and when you decide to visit him at the station, the rookies get an idea of why.
Warnings: pregnant reader. fluff!
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: Softie Tim? Softie (and clingy) Tim. This takes place sometime during seasons 1-2.
“Don’t start,” Tim says, sitting beside Angela.
“Whoa, okay,” she replies with a laugh. “Glad to see you’re in such a good mood.”
“That sounds like starting.”
Angela puts her hands up, smiling as she turns away from Tim. “Chen, good luck.”
Tim rolls his eyes, wishing his mornings could go differently. It’s been several weeks of his persistent bad mood, and everyone who has to deal with him is curious about what’s causing it.
“Bradford, can I- could I maybe get you something?” Lucy offers softly.
“No.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You wake up curled against Tim’s side, his arm extended over your waist. His alarm is going off, and he’s smacking the nightstand beside him in a poor attempt to turn it off.
“You have to go to work,” you remind him, kissing his cheek as you move farther up in the bed.
“I’m good,” he replies, sighing as he finds his phone and turns the sound off. “Right here.”
He rolls closer to you, his hand sweeping over your stomach as he looks into your eyes. Tim can be persuasive, but you’ve gotten used to this routine over the last few weeks.
“I’d love for you to stay, I really would, but I don’t think your boss would appreciate it,” you say.
Tim groans, pressing his face against your neck as his arm tightens around you.
“You got clingy,” you tease, running your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp.
“And you won’t let me stay,” Tim mumbles.
“It’s not my fault you wanted to be a cop.”
“You would-“ Tim pauses, sitting up so you can hear him. “You would deprive me of staying at your side during a time like this?”
Chuckling at his dramatics, you push your hand against Tim’s shoulder in a pointless attempt to move him away from you.
“Tim, baby, you see me all the time.”
“Not enough. I’m going to come home one day, and there will be a toddler running around, but I won’t remember any of this.”
You close your eyes and lean back against your pillow. “You have to go to work today so you can come to the doctor with me on Friday, right? Just think about that.”
“I can’t. I can only think of you.”
“You start a family and suddenly you’re the most romantic, clingy guy in the world. Where’d the grump go?”
Tim doesn’t reply as he tries to pull you closer. Rolling away from him, you leave him no choice but to get up and go to work. His disappointed sigh makes you frown; you know he’s being dramatic to cover up how he feels.
“Tim,” you call, sitting up as he walks to you. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I really do want you here as much as possible.”
“I know. It’s just harder than I thought it would be.”
You nod, tilting your chin up in a silent request for a kiss. Tim smiles, shaking his head as he bends to meet you. You pull back before he risks getting distracted.
“The grump is back now,” Tim mumbles.
“Hey! Be nice today,” you call after him.
Tim doesn’t reply, and you know he’ll deny ever hearing you say such a thing.
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim slams the door as he exits the shop. Standing with his hands on his hips, he looks at the flat tire before glancing at Lucy.
“I didn’t see it,” she begins, her voice rushed and apologetic.
“Because you weren’t paying attention,” Tim snaps.
“But I-“
“How do you expect to graduate to short sleeves if you can’t even drive, boot?”
“It wasn’t my fault; there was something in the road!”
“Call dispatch,” Tim demands.
“What’s the protocol for this?”
Tim remains silent, leaning against the side of the shop as Lucy racks her brain for the proper procedure. As she radios dispatch and explains the situation, Tim grows grumpier. He’s stranded in a subdivision of Los Angeles with a flat tire that could have been avoided instead of home with you. His conviction about being a cop wanes each moment he’s away from you.
✯✯✯✯✯
Even without seeing the worst of it, you can tell Tim’s attitude has changed lately. His fellow officers and the rookies have been dealing with the grumpiest version of Tim they’ve ever experienced, but you see the clingy, emotional, loving side of whatever is making him act so differently.
After doing a few small chores, which Tim will tell you not to do again, you get ready and decide to pay him a visit at the station. You want to see how he is doing.. mostly, you miss him and want an excuse to see him and hug him.
As you get in your car, you consider calling Tim to ensure he’s at the station and has time for a visitor. He has been protective of you since you met, but it has changed and increased since getting married and throughout the early months of your pregnancy. You shrug, putting your phone away after electing to surprise him instead.
✯✯✯✯✯
“It would be great if one of you could remember that you’re a police officer!” Tim yells, looking between Nolan, Lucy, and Jackson. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? No excuses? Well maybe you should review those rook books before going out on patrol again.”
He turns quickly, prepared to storm away and find a private place to calm down. When he freezes, the rookies look at one another in confusion. Nolan prepares to speak, and Lucy shakes her head to stop him, unwilling to get yelled at again so soon.
“What are you doing here?” Tim asks.
You step into the bullpen with a smile as Tim rushes to your side.
“Missed you,” you whisper.
“Is that- is she-“ Nolan stutters.
“Pregnant? Yeah. And Tim is… smiling?” Jackson adds.
Lucy gasps, moving in front of Nolan to see better. It’s true: Tim is standing as close as he can, with one hand laid protectively over your stomach while he smiles down at you. His grumpiness, which has made being a rookie nearly unbearable recently, is completely gone, vanished at the sight of you.
“You shouldn’t be up walking around,” Tim frets.
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you I cleaned the kitchen, huh?” you reply.
Tim shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the swell of your baby bump as he leans forward to kiss your forehead.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tim asks softly.
You smile, moving your chin to gesture to your left. Tim’s brows pinch as he turns, glaring at the rookies until they look away, turning to one another in a fake conversation.
“I’m not going to survive this afternoon,” Tim tells you.
“You’ve been grumpy and mean,” you accuse.
“Look, they’re going to annoy me all afternoon. Stay with me? You can do a ride along. Oh! Or you could go into labor so I can stay home with you for a few days.”
“As great as that sounds, I’m going to pass. I’d like to have a healthy baby when the time is right, not on your schedule, grumpy.”
Tim frowns, his hands on either side of your bump.
“But, I promise to be waiting for you the moment you get home,” you add. “And, maybe, if you just tell them the truth, it won’t be so bad.”
“You’ve never dealt with a boot. Or Angela Lopez.”
“Just because you won’t introduce me.”
“For good reason.”
You smile, raising your chin again before Tim kisses you quickly.
“Be careful going home. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Tim watches you leave, waiting until you’re out of sight to turn back toward the rookies. He jerks back slightly when he sees Lucy standing right beside him.
“She’s so cute! You’re so cute together! Why haven’t you mentioned her, Tim?” Lucy gushes. “And where do you hide that guy that was with her? I’ve never met that Tim.”
“And you won’t,” he promises.
“I think he leaves that side of Tim with her,” Nolan adds.
Tim’s jaw clenches. It’s true, he knows, but he doesn’t want details of his personal life to become an accepted topic for the rookies. He raises his hand, and they silence.
“Just- leave it alone for now, and I will introduce you the next time she visits,” he offers.
As he says it, he makes a mental note to ask you not to visit without warning so he doesn’t have to follow through. The lie is the only way to have peace while in the vicinity of the rookies.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad,” Jackson muses.
“You’re having a kid?” Angela yells, running down the stairs and grabbing Tim’s arm.
Tim grumbles something unintelligible under his breath before saying, “Yes.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“If it’s a girl, Angela is a great name.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a long list of names that are an absolute no-go,” Tim replies, looking between the rookies and Angela.
“How did you figure this out?” Angela asks Lucy.
“She – who is she?” Lucy begins before realizing that she never heard who you are to Tim.
“My wife,” Tim mutters.
“You’re married?!” Angela and Nolan ask together.
Angela slaps Tim's shoulder, frowning when he looks at her with his eyebrows raised.
“I thought we were friends.”
“What gave you that impression?”
Angela gasps, covering her heart with her hand.
“Uh, Tim?” you ask, standing behind him.
He turns toward you quickly, and Angela’s eyes widen as she looks at you.
“Yeah?” he asks kindly, yet another surprise.
“Can you come with me for a second?” You notice the small crowd behind him, officers who seem more interested in you than anything else. “Hi,” you say, waving at them.
“It is so nice to meet you,” Angela begins, stepping toward you before Tim blocks her way with his arm.
“We’ll do introductions later,” Tim says, putting his arm around you and leading you away.
“I’m holding you to that!” Lucy yells.
Tim leads you into an empty interview room, his eyes searching yours. You take his hand, laying it on your stomach. Something happened when you heard his voice earlier, and you want to share it.
“Say something,” you request. “Anything.”
“I love you,” Tim answers.
His eyes widen as he feels the movement of a kick against his hand. He squats before you, moving his hand under your shirt.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” he asks.
You feel another kick, laughing at how your baby already has Tim wrapped around its finger.
“You promised to make introductions,” you say, interrupting Tim’s conversation with your stomach.
Tim stands, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. Breathless, you push against his chest as you break away.
“You were right,” you admit. “It would be nice to have you home more.”
“We did it,” Tim whispers, his eyes dropping to your bump.
“I feel like I’m interrupting something,” you mumble.
Tim chuckles, rubbing your back as he leads you to the door.
“Introductions, and then we’re going home,” Tim explains. “Names and nothing more.”
“I would expect no less, Officer Bradford.”
#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford fluff#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#the rookie#requests#fem!reader#tw pregnancy
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This was js a little drabble I found in my notes it's Jealous? Miguel x bratty reader? Yeah
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Peter and you were talking to tell you a joke, and you laughed doubling over. You knew Miguel had his eyes on you ever since the rumor went around about you and Peter flirting even though Peter was completely in love with MJ. If you were being honest you were flirting with almost everyone except Peter. You continue to giggle as you put your hand on Peter's shoulder, and that is Miguel's last straw. Jess came to you and tapped your shoulder
"Hey...Miguel wants you in his office hurry he seems upset.." Jess says with annoyance dripping from her voice, showing she wasn't in the mood for his anger when she was pregnant.
You nod and skip down to his office knowing what was to come. You walk in with a huge grin on your face. "You called me Miggy!" You say trying to keep your mischievous giggle in.
He glares. You know that glare all too well. You watch as his platform descends to the ground.
"Come here now." He practically growls. His voice was laced with anger.
A shiver ran down your back. You could hardly wait. You waltz over to him innocently with a grin.
"Yes~ Miggy." You say still trying to keep your composure.
Seconds later you feel his hand grip your cheeks and squish them harshly. You could feel the anger seething off of him. His eyes were red and a animal-like growl could be heard.
"Don't give me that Miggy shit. Wanna explain why you've been all over multiple other spiders for the past week." He Snarled
"You've been cooped up in here for a week in this room. I was horny so I was trying to find ways or rather other men pleasure me." You mumbled due to your cheeks being squished harshly. It was a joke, but Miguel being your boyfriend didn't find it funny.
You may have been mumbling but he understood every single word that left you mouth. You watch his face as his eyebrows furrow farther than they already were. Before you could react you react you were bent over one of the panels on his platform.
"So you were being a slut." He hissed his hand on the back of your neck holding you down. This still wasn't enough for you. You wanted to be destroyed by his dick.
"Hmm~ maybe?" You say laughing.
That did it. You made him snap. You feel his tear through the bottom of your spider suit with his talon. He'll make you a new one..probably?
"You want to be a slut? I treat you like one fucking whore." He spat out his words harshly.
You feel his finger move between your slick folds before he sticks two fingers into you with no warning and roughly. You yelp from both the pleasure in pain.
"Of course a little whore like you likes this I'm gonna fucking ruin you. You won't want anyone else's fucking cock." He Snarled
His fingers are going in and out of your throbbing hole roughly with every thrust you felt your body jolt forward. You are a moaning mess at this point.
"Miguel- R-right ah- Oh God right there." You mewl out in desperation.
Just as you were about you reach your high you feel his fingers stop. You whine at the halt in movement.
"Miggy please?" You beg eyes welling up with tears
"Fucking sluts like you don't deserve it." He hissed.
You watched as the bottom part of his suit disappeared. You had heard from Lyla that he went commando under it but you didn't believe it until now. He hits your ass the stinging sensation causes the tears in your eyes to spill. Your ass was stinging and you felt another slap.
"You like the pain don't you fucking whore." He said his eyes locked on to your now tear-stained face
he grabs a hold of your waist and slams into you with no warning. It took everything in you to not scream. He was mercilessly pounding into you. You could feel his talons coming out as he gripped your waist.
"Fuck whore. You like it rough." He Snarled snapping his hips back and pounding into you.
You were too cock drunk to even reply. Sobbing and hollering loudly was all you could manage to get out.
"Hmm? I'm here fucking your brains out dirty slut, and you want another man's dick? " He questioned his hips still snapping back and forth penetrating your body. You were too cock drunk to pay attention he grabbed your face and asks again
"Do you want another man's cock." It was more of a statement than in question in the firm way he asked.
"No..no I don't want anyone but you Miggy" you mewl. If someone didn't know any better they'd say they see the heart shapes in your eyes.
Miguel continues to pound into you "What if I fill you up? What if I fill that womb up? Hmm? Make you all big and swollen with my baby then you're stuck with me." He says between thrusts. "You wanna me to fill you up? Hm." He speaking nonsense at this point.
You feel a knot in your stomach and you groaned "Miggy can I come? Can I please come?"
Miguel laughs in a mocking way "Are you going to be a good whore for me? Are you going to be mine and mine only?" He asks firmly
"Yes! Yes, I promise Miggy!" You squirmed and yell.
"Go ahead." He whispered in your ear.
Miguel fucks you through your high not switching up his pace, but after a few more thrusts he came.
You feel your entire lower body be filled with his seed.
He leans over on you with a softer gaze as you caught your breath he had finally calmed down enough to speak rationally. "Am I not paying enough attention to you?" He asked with a bit of concern.
You sigh "I know you're busy. Protecting the spiderverse."
He chuckled "The arachno-humanoid-polymultiverse, but yes its a lot of work."
You sigh.
"But not as important as you I'll work it. Not working as much so we can be together more okay?" He smiled kissing your forehead.
You smile nodding. "Okay! I'm gonna hold you to that Miggy."
(A/N) I'm with my family rn so it's hard to write because yk...I'm writing smut. I'll try to post again very very soon. I have like little a drabble and a Kokushibo fanfic that will be multiple parts in the works. Along with like 5 more Miguel fics and angst Eren fic and a Jean fic and I don't even at this point. My hashtag is #loveforeren its should be right at the top and that has all my posted writing and my masterlist is pinned with rules for for request.
#loveforeren#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x y/n#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel x you#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara across the spiderverse#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel x O'Hara x reader
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hey there, sunshine — suguru geto x reader
a/n: not in love w this !! but couldn't get the idea out of my brain when i was trying to sleep. was also intended to be for choso but got too ooc sooooo
wc: 2.3k
yet another date didn't work out for you, and your roommate bears the burden of listening to all your complaints. he also may or may not have a crush on you. fluff/humor
the soft orange of the painted sky poured through your blinds, slipping through the cracks and almost deliberately shining down on your eyes that just barely peeked beneath your comforter. your curtains waved back and forth with the fan, soft whirrs that once lulled you to sleep now drawing you from your slumber with a ragged groan. far gone was the fulfillment of your soothing dreams, your memories running farther and farther away as you tried to recall them and sink yourself back into that peace of mind.
you screwed your eyes shut in defense from the harsh rays of the sun, huffing in the warmth of your pillow before lifting your head and sandwiching yourself against the mattress. your fists squeezed the pillowcase with irritation, pulling as hard as you could manage to encase you in the comfort of your bed.
the birds chirped in unison, chattering as they built a nest on the apartment balcony your roommate refused to relocate (he called himself a humanitarian, but you were sure part of him refrained because he knew it bothered you). the slight creaks of your rotating fan were becoming more noticeable even as you tried to calm yourself back to sleep. you were uncomfortably warm now, the frustration culminating beneath your comforter and suffocating the air.
buzz.
your phone, shaking itself to life with a notification. you sighed.
buzz.
buzz.
you thrashed the bedsheets away from you, your pillows and plushies cocooning in your blankets landing on the ground with a soft thump. the palm of your hand slammed against the hollow wood of your bedside table in a blind rage, desperately scouring your clutter in an attempt to locate your phone.
finally, you dug your nails into the rubber case and snagged it from the charger with a thwack. you rolled over to your side, squinting at the sunlight as you turned it on. three new messages, and an aspiring text bubble all from one person.
080-7766-5289
hey
good morning
would you want to get coffee with me?
the pondering text bubble finally popped, and your phone vibrated again.
maybe some breakfast too?
your groggy eyes glanced at the time. 8:23am. you barely had a chance to think through the onslaught of messages. the unrelenting number belonged to a guy you’d met at the bar last week, who was sweet enough for you to trade numbers with. last night had been your first date, a simple dinner and a movie.
unfortunately for him, you felt a better connection to the movie that night than to him. he was strangely stiff when you were around, answering any questions with caution that made you feel like an intruder for asking. comments and questions of his own were dry and anything but open-ended, his punctuation hanging in the stale air while you worked overtime to keep the conversation going.
it really didn’t seem worth it.
you shut off your phone and placed it on the table again, taking a deep breath. all at once, the scent of brewed coffee beans and pancakes wafted in from the kitchen. your stomach rumbled in response, mouth slightly watering as you came to terms with just how hungry you were.
you pulled yourself out of bed, dragging your feet along the plush carpet of the apartment. sluggishly, you ran your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame what mess it made of itself. it was cooler in the open loft, the windows propped open, welcoming the dewey air and various chattering of wild critters. those damn birds.
your roommate, suguru, was in the kitchen, his back to you as he worked his magic on the stovetop in front of him. his red apron was tied into neat bows wrapped around his neck and his waist– the words ‘kiss the cook’ plastered in bold font on the front of it with puckered lips, a gag gift from gojo last christmas that he had now worn to the point of the ends being frayed and stained with various ingredients.
he was wearing a black t-shirt that squeezed the tightness of his muscles, tense and working diligently as he flipped a pancake. his black basketball shorts hung loosely around his waist– surely thrown on haphazardly as he woke up –and he donned a pair of mismatched neon-striped socks. truly, a sight reserved for you, and only you.
on the island behind him, two steaming cups of coffee were presented next to empty plates. the pink one was yours, the black one was his. your utensils had a few extra napkins stuffed underneath them.
you make a mess one time and he can’t let it go.
he acknowledged your presence with a soft hum, before turning his head and offering a small smile. it was soft and captivating, just as he was. his charm washed over you as his gaze followed every part of your figure, raising a curious eyebrow at the sight of you missing a sock. nothing he hadn’t seen before, in fact, he’d seen you much worse and much more grumpy.
“good morning,” he said, his voice a low rumble. he met your tired eyes, taking in the delicate hues that warmed his skin. your eyebrows were still pinched together as you recovered from the confusion and discomfort of your untimely awakening. “rough night?”
“rough everything,” you huffed, grabbing your coffee and shuffling next to him. you hoisted yourself up to sit next to the stack of pancakes he’d created and leaned your head against the cabinets.
suguru watched carefully as you took a sip of your coffee, a sense of pride fluttered in his stomach when a content smile graced your lips. his motions came to a slow stop as he stared you down. you paid him no mind as you wrapped both hands around the mug for warmth and basked in the taste again, then kept it close to your chest as you licked the sweetness off your lips.
after many months, he’d refined your coffee blend to your ideal taste. pestering you each time if you liked it enough, or what he could improve on to make sure that his handiwork was no less than perfect in your eyes. he reveled in the way you adored his cooking, putting pieces of himself– his adoration, compassion, and sentiment –into his creations and curating your taste closer to his own.
his grip on the spatula loosened, nearly slipping out of his hand and bringing him back to reality.
suguru cleared his throat and resumed his task, sliding an additional pancake onto the tower, slowly but surely resembling the one of pisa. he kept his head low with a merciless blush refusing to back down. you didn’t notice. “did it not go well?”
“it was… fine, i guess.” you sighed, beginning to zone out as you stared down a picture frame hanging not too far away.
it was you and suguru, one of the first few nights you had finally gotten comfortable being around him and he’d invited you to meet his friends. more so, he begged you to come out of your room and gave you no room for escape when he sandwiched you between himself and the couch’s armrest. shoko took the photo, stealthily enough you didn’t realize it existed until you saw it hanging in the hallway.
suguru’s arm was thrown over the back of the couch, a lazy grin on his face as he looked at you. (gojo told him he looked goofy with that expression. lovestruck didn’t ‘suit’ him.) you couldn’t stop laughing at one of his many sly comments he’d whisper to you, covering your face as you cackled and peeked through them to get a look at him. his stare made your face burn hot and you kept it covered until gojo managed to grab everyone’s attention, like he always did.
it felt so long ago when suguru existed as your shy, withdrawn roommate who would stare at you with, seemingly, a dull interest when you spoke to him. despite his staring, he was always polite and considerate of your needs, your time, your privacy. he invited you to the food he’d make, setting aside extra servings for you. if you had already eaten, they’d go in the fridge with a sticky note on it.
then he was recording your shows, buying your snacks, anything he got for himself he seemed to get one for you as well, in a different color. it all came with ease, drawing you into his routines like he had his own gravitational pull and you were stuck in his orbit.
as he’d gotten to know you, he learned how spiteful you were to any form of change. you hated it when your go-to brands changed their packaging, when your restaurants were out of your preferred foods, or when your route to work was partially under construction. but you adjusted, without contest, to suguru’s rituals like it was nothing at all.
“i don’t know. maybe i’m being mean, but he was so, like, hard to talk to,” you shrugged. “it is so tiring to be the one doing all the talking.”
suguru doesn’t say anything, just nods.
“and then he texted me good morning. in what world are we in the good-morning-text phase?” you pouted, looking at him. “so weird. i barely know him.”
“and he asked me out for coffee. and breakfast. why would i do that?” suguru’s gaze flutters over you as you take a sip from your mug, his eyes lingering on the way you bite your lip in thought afterward. he chooses to stay quiet, inviting you to ramble for as long as you pleased, as long as he would be the one to hear your voice. “i don’t think i have the brainpower for either of those things and carrying an entire conversation on my back. it’s not even 9 in the morning.”
he turned the stovetop off, taking the pan over to the sink to wash. the mixing bowl and other utensils were taken care of earlier and already set aside on the drying rack, always so tidy.
“so, not well,” suguru concluded, his lips turning into a smirk. he teased, “i won’t get to meet him?”
“no, never. but also i got a free dinner and a movie out of it. so, something went right...”
he chuckled. the one thing men are good for, you’d told him before. in that way, he really wasn’t any different from the rest of your roster. he supplied you with food and outings, and wouldn’t dream of you paying for them, paying no mind to the way you’d protest and nearly brawl at the register.
suguru never met any of your dates, you’d disappear into the night– or days on end, not allowing them the gratification of crossing the threshold of your apartment.
he began to separate the pancakes onto your respective plates and set a small bowl of sliced fruit between them for you to share. he cleared his throat. “on to the next, then?”
“maybe… i don’t know. the thought of going out and all the dates is just so exhausting.”
suguru hummed again. a man of few words. he liked the idea of you staying in– staying home, with him. he honestly wasn’t sure how many horrible date stories he could handle, you could do so much better. you deserved better, and he could give it to you.
he twirled his fork as you slipped behind him, gently caressing his back as you passed. a warm trail remained in the absence of your hand, burning into his skin before dissipating into nothing more than a longing to reel back into your embrace again. “are you still interested in that bodega that just opened up? i don’t want to exhaust you.”
“no, that's not…” you paused, slipping into your stool, mouth agape as you found your words. “it’s different, with you, you know. it’s easy.”
“i’m easy?”
it was too early in the morning for his games. you sputtered. “no– stop! that’s not what i’m saying.”
suguru chuckled. “we don’t have to call it a date, you know, if it makes it easier.”
“what?” you blinked, then narrowing your eyes at him. the sun from the loft brightened his toffee-colored eyes that bored into you expectantly, though not bothering to repeat himself. he’d rather watch you squirm while he kept that stupid grin on his face. “do you think you’re making me feel better?”
the gentle glow of his skin was unmatched to anything, or anyone, you’ve seen. his hair was unbrushed, the slight curls framing the sides of his face and tickling underneath his chin. he was always elegant. and pretty. unfortunately, he was just as aware as you were.
he shrugged half-heartedly, taking note of the way your fingers bounced your fork in the air as you stared. “don’t worry if you don’t want to go.”
“i do want to go.”
“so, it’s a date, then.”
suguru took a quick bite of his pancakes, poorly hiding his taunting grin with stuffed cheeks. maybe later he would feel guilty, making you all flustered so soon after waking up, drowsiness anchoring your posture against the stool. but, for now, with you in front of him, he found himself giddy as he toyed with your reactions.
“you’re impossible sometimes, do you know that?” you opted for taking a sip of your coffee, an anxious whisper in the shell of your ear warning you that you were going to embarrass yourself by chewing with your mouth full. as if he hadn't seen it before. it was hard to avoid his stare, to escape the painful position he put you in. was he serious?
you mumbled into your mug, “you hang out with gojo too much. is he gonna tag along, too?”
(gojo, the master of getting anything he wanted, any time, anywhere, no matter what.)
“it hurt's me, that you're thinking about him at a time like this.”
he smiled, more genuine this time. you watched him carefully, catching the nervous twitch of his fingertips he combated with a melodic thrum against the island. you considered how sincere his tone was, his gentle demeanor somehow becoming more soft as his playfulness subsided.
"let me take you out."
you blinked, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. "to... the bodega?"
suguru laughed. "of course. i was thinking of a few different places, though."
"as in more dates?" you poked in his direction with your fork. he nodded. "who says we make it past one?"
"why not? we've already made it to our 'good morning' and 'eating breakfast together' phase."
#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk suguru#jjk suguru geto#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru x reader#geto x reader#suguru geto fluff#suguru fluff#geto fluff#jujutsu kaisen suguru#gojo mentioned#lol#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#spleen writes
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could you please make one where Chris and reader are dating and reader feels sick and Chris just takes care of her and acts all sweet and stuff? 🫠
an: thank you for the request ily 🧡
this turned out so much longer than i intended
this isn’t my first one shot but it’s the first with one of the sturniolo triplets in it.
obviously their characters have been altered by me a little to fit into the story but i tried to make it as realistic as possible by keeping their personality traits as they are in real life.
also comment or like this post if you want to be added to the taglist
pairing: chris x fem!reader
word count: 4.1k
warnings: fluff, use of ‘babe’ and ‘ma’ as pet names for reader, intentional wrong spelling in text messages to make it more realistic, mentions of nsfw themes, swearing, lots of playful teasing between characters
y/n’s dialogue
chris’ dialogue
matt’s dialogue
nick’s dialogue
mary lou’s dialogue
“it’s just a cold, nothing serious i promise. i don’t think i can come over today though, i don’t wanna infect any of you. i’m sorry for ruining movie night,” i say to chris on facetime before breaking into a cough. i turn the camera away from me, not wanting him to see me in a disgusting state like this. if i could, i would’ve muted myself so he doesn’t have to listen to it either. plus, i know how worried he gets with any type of sickness or unwell feeling really.
so, of course it wouldn’t be chris if he didn’t immediately furrow his brows.
“babe no, don’t apologize. you didn’t choose to get sick.”
he gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and goes downstairs to his bedroom. he puts the phone down so all i can see now is his ceiling. his voice sounds a little farther away when he speaks again, “it doesn’t really sound like nothing serious, does anything hurt?”
“to be honest, my whole body has been aching since i woke up this morning. it’s not too bad, just a dull ache, i can still move and all that, even if i’d prefer to just lay here and rot away,” i laugh and hold back the cough that wants to escape right after in hopes it would make him worry a little less. vainly.
“your voice sounds stuffy and kinda hoarse, does your throat hurt?”
“i forgot you turn into a doctor every time somebody doesn’t feel great,” i roll my eyes even though he can’t see it with his phone still down and him on the other side of the room from how distant his voice sounds.
“shut up, y/n. you feel worse than ‘not great’. you’re not fooling anyone with that act.”
he reappears on the screen. now i can see what he has been doing in the time i couldn’t see him. he put on a hoodie over the tank top he had been wearing before, the hair he had put up in a little ponytail - if you could even call it that - in the front has been untied and brushed. or maybe he just ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, that’d be more like it.
“anyways baby, imma call mom real quick. be right back,” he hangs up before i get the chance to respond.
i put the phone down next to me on the bed i’ve been in since i realized this morning how much it hurt to stand up and how i felt like i was gonna throw up every time i moved too hastily.
i took a deep breath - well, as deep as a breath can get when your nose is clogged - and closed my eyes to try and concentrate on something other than the throbbing pain in my head.
i feel so much worse than how i described it to chris and i feel bad for kind of lying to him, i do. but he has been dealing with so much of his own lately - new designs for his brand, fixing the shipping issues with some of the orders from his last drop, coming up with video ideas and prefilming those before him, nick and matt go on tour again, preparing everything for said tour - see, he really doesn’t need me to add to his things-to-worry-about-list, especially if he can’t do anything to fix it and it’ll go away on its own anyway.
i feel my phone’s vibration from somewhere in between the sheets and grab it. it's messages from nick.
hey y/n heard your not feeling so good (:/ smiley) i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it
i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault
its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted
hope you feel better soon tho
matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday
I hey y/n heard your not feeling so good 😕 i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it
word spreads faaast 😂 i’m so sad i gotta wait another week or so to see you again i only like sleepovers cuz of u but dont tell chris 🤫
I i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault
seriously i hate that yk me so well 😐
I its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted
at first i was like 🤨 but then i kept reading i LOVE YOUU SO MUCH OMG just so yk chris was the second option
I hope you feel better soon tho
me too now i’m excited for the pajamaaas 😫
I matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday 🤔
i’m gonna kill him like fr this time
hey where tf is chris??
talking to mom shes teaching him sth honestly don’t ask idk
ok 😂 i think im gonna take a nap talk later?
yess get some rest and lmk if you need anything ❤️
ly❤️❤️
after sending the last message i get a call from matt. i contemplate not picking up for a second but decide against it.
“what?”
“uff, what’s that attitude?”
“i’m sick because of you, shithead.”
“we don’t know that. what if you’re the one who passed it on to me, hm? besides, i was just calling to tell you to drink some water and to ask if you need anything. i was actually being nice but you clearly don’t deserve it,” his voice is just as bad as mine, if not worse which makes me feel a little bad, but matt wouldn’t be one of my best friends if i had to worry about him getting mad every time i’m not nice. that’s actually how we bonded after annoying each other every chance we got. we both have a bit of an attitude problem which caused a lot of irritation and aggravation. now we get along better than any pair of best friends. the teasing stayed in place, but now we both know there’s only endless love behind it. sometimes you just gotta let off a bit of steam and we both just get that.
“fine, i’m sorry. sickness really does turn you soft, huh?” i smirk.
“why’re you saying it like you just confirmed a theory?”
“mary lou told me once and i’ve been waiting ever since to see for myself, guess she was right.”
“you are actually the worst. i’m hanging up now. drink water, bye.”
he hangs up the phone and i laugh to myself. what a big baby.
i open chris’ chat and type in a message telling him i’m going to sleep and that i will call him once i wake up again. i don’t bother waiting for a reply and just put the phone on my nightstand. i turn on my side, close my eyes and after that i don’t notice anything anymore.
i jolt up from bed, breathing heavy, body sweaty and heart racing. my room is dark, lit up only by the moon shining through my window. i look around trying to remember where i am and shake the nightmare from my mind.
i reach for my phone and check the time.
11:43 pm
i turn on the flashlight and right when i notice a black jacket hung over the back of my desk chair i hear footsteps coming closer.
chris pushes the door open and steps in.
“oh shit, did i wake you?”
“no i had a nightmare. what are doing here?”
i sit upright in bed and turn the flashlight off when chris flips the switch to turn on the fairy lights around the edges of my ceiling.
he moves to sit on the bed next to me before he answers, “i had mom teach me how to make her get-well-quick-soup and brought you some. she also told me about the perfect remedy tea, i can make it for you,” he stands up again immediately, “i’ll heat up the soup for you first. shit ma, have you even eaten anything today?” he stands by the door, holding the handle but looking back over his shoulder at me.
“chris,” i honestly don’t know what to say to him. he is so sweet i have to fight the tears that build up on my waterline. i just look at him for a moment, a little smile ghosting on my lips.
i’m well aware of how caring, considerate and compassionate chris is as a person in general, but it still baffles me sometimes how much he goes out of his way to make others feel good. i guess i’m just not used to it, being loved like this, having someone do everything that lies in their hands - and beyond that - just for me. it’s astonishing to say the least. especially when i myself have had issues with showing how deeply i cherish somebody ever since i can remember. it’s probably rooted somewhere in my past and how my affection has been received and responded to, that’s what my therapist says anyway.
i shake myself out of my thoughts and move the blanket away from my body to finally get up. immediately chris is beside me, holding me in place, “what’re you doing, ma? stay here i’ll bring it up,” he talks quietly, trying to get me to take in my previous lying position but i stay put on the ground.
“babe, i have been in this bed almost all day. i need to get up. i’ll just come down with you, we can eat together in the kitchen,” i try to convince him.
he looks at me, an uncertain expression on his face for a few seconds, the gears in his head almost visibly turning while he thinks about it. at last he lets out a sigh and nods, “alright then, hop on my back,” he bends over in a piggy back position in front of me and i can’t help the laugh that escapes me.
“you do know i can walk, right?” i ask still chuckling.
“i know, come ooon, just do it,” he urges me on and wiggles his hips, making me laugh even harder when i climb on his back.
“you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow, chris,” i complain mournfully once he lets me down to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets to heating up the soup he brought.
chris insists he’s not prone to catch a cold or any sickness easily, no matter how contagious or how close to the source he might be, even though he has proven himself wrong multiple times on more occasions than he cares to admit.
“no i won’t. besides, i could use a few days off even if i have to be sick to get that,” he lets out a huff of air trying to make it sound humorous, but both of us - and everyone who knows chris for that matter - knows that he is exhausted and is in desperate need of a break.
i know he doesn’t want me to get serious about that topic right now though so i try to change routes, “oh my god,” he turns around from where he was stirring the soup on the stove and faces me, confused about my shocked exclamation. i point an accusatory finger at him, my jaw hanging low but a smile still creeping it’s way on my face.
“so that’s why you’re here. you came to try and get infected, that’s why you carried me down too even though you know damn well i coulda walked by myself. and i’m here thinking you were actually being the best boyfriend on earth. turns out my man is a piece of shit,” by the end i fail to stay serious and let out a giggle. well, it’s not like he actually believed that i meant what i was saying but still.
he lets go of everything he was holding, turns around to me fully and begins to stalk toward me slowly.
“oh yeah?” i don’t know if it’s just me or if he’s doing it on purpose but all of a sudden his voice sounds deeper, his face more stern and serious.
“is that what you think then? i’m just a piece of shit?” he makes me nervous at first but the second i see the smirk on his lips i know exactly what’s about to follow.
“chris. no.”
he is standing right in front of me, so close he has positioned himself in between my legs, his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. the finger i was pointing at him long since taken back.
“am i a piece of shit when i make you cum with just my tongue?” his face is so close now.
“stop,” i say quieter than i mean to, almost whisper-like.
“or when i fuck you so good you can’t walk right for days, am i a piece of shit then?”
this asshole is doing it on purpose. he knows i would never have sex with him when i’m sick so he’s trying to rile me up the little fucker. have i mentioned that i actually hate him. like for real hate him. the type of hate that leads to an absolutely mindblowing fuck. shit.
“or yesterday when you told matt you needed a break and came downstairs to my room to suck me off and then you just wiped your mouth and went back up like nothing happened. did you do it because i’m a piece of shit?”
my jaw is on the floor.
“or when–”
“OKAY,” i practically scream, “you’re the best and i didn’t mean what i said, just please stop.”
i’m almost whining at this point.
i try to rub my legs together to ease some of the friction unnoticeably but chris is like a hawk, sees everything, notices everything. and then he smiles. just smiles and goes back to the soup.
later that night, after i was forced to eat almost all of the soup and drink two cups of magic tea while chris downed a cheese burger, fries and three of the last four pepsi cans i had in my fridge, we snuggled up on the couch with a heavy blanket that chris had also asked his mom for, thrown over both of our laps and a random movie playing on the tv.
neither one of us actually felt like watching something but we threw it on as background noise anyway. chris and i have barely seen each other in almost two weeks so all we want right now is to enjoy each other's company. he has been so busy with all that’s coming up for him and his brothers, still is. and i've been studying like crazy because i always feel like i won’t pass if i don’t and when i wasn’t busy with that i’d be at work to earn my living and feel like i’m doing enough. so there wasn't really time for us to actually be together and get to enjoy it. i've missed it.
“you know you’re probably sick because you exhaust yourself all the time,” chris says when he turns to look at me.
“shh,” i shush him with my eyes closed and a smile on my lips, “i got it from matt, no discussion.”
he lets out a little laugh at that, “yes discussion. if you keep going like that, one day it’s gonna have more serious effects on your health than a cold. you don’t even need to do all that. how many times do i have to tell you your life is worth enough even if you don’t work yourself half to death and have a little fun every once in a while,” he rubs my thigh while talking. chris knows better than anyone that i don’t like being put on the spot and lectured about my not-so-healthy habits like that, especially when i know exactly that it’s in fact very unhealthy. but he also insists on having these talks with me because he knows i would shut out everyone else who’d dare to try immediately. he and his brothers are the only three people i have let come so close and they make use of that quite often, might i say. but it’s okay because these people are my best friends and i know i need to be put in check sometimes, i admit. nobody else would dare try but them so i just let them.
i must say, it has helped me improve my life to an extent. they taught me that it’s okay to cut ties with people who are bad for my mental health and encourage bad habits, and that i don’t owe shit to them even if they want to make me believe that. they kept telling me “quality friends are worth so much more than a big amount of bad ones” until it finally clicked in my brain and i blocked half of my contact list.
“look who’s talkin’. mister i work twice as hard as the person i try to lecture,” i jab my finger in his side and he jerks.
“you know that’s different,” he holds my hands in his to stop me from doing it again.
i like feeling his hands on mine. i know he’s my boyfriend and it might be weird to say it like that. but i haven’t seen him in so long, which means i also haven’t felt him in so long. it’s crazy but it almost feels like in the beginning when we were scared to touch each other and would act like we accidentally brushed our hand on the other but we both knew it was fully on purpose.
chris pulls me out of my thoughts again when he speaks, “at least i have an end in sight and work’s gonna be way more relaxed once i’m done with everything. with you there’s always–”
the ringing of his phone cuts him off and he takes a look at the caller id, his mom. he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a look that says “we’re not done yet” but picks up the phone and holds it up so she can see the both of us on the screen.
“i was going to ask chris about you but since you’re with him please pinch him for me,” is the first thing mary lou says when she looks at us. and i gladly do as she says even though i don't know what he did to deserve it.
“oww, what was that for?” chris asks whining and i just shrug and chuckle.
“you told me you would bring y/n the soup and go back home. you lied to me.”
i turn to him with my mouth hanging open, “christopher owen, how dare you?”
it’s so fun to aggravate chris.
he furrows his brows at me and then looks back at the screen, “she literally begged me,” he straight up lies. “i was trying to tell her i didn’t wanna get sick so i could only drop off the soup and blanket and would have to leave again but then she started crying–”
i hit him for real this time, hard enough to make him suck air through his teeth.
“mary lou, don’t believe a word he says.”
“i know, darling, you wouldn’t do that. chris, that’s twice you’ve lied today.”
“sorry, mom,” he actually looks defeated now, “you know i can’t just leave her all alone when she’s like this. i lied because i didn’t wanna worry you. i won’t get sick though,” at that me and her give each other a knowing look but let him continue, “y/n’s weak and in pain, of course i’ll be by her side as much as i can, you probably knew i was here, that’s why you called me,” chris wiggles his finger at his mom with a cheeky smile while she’s trying to hide her own.
“alright, alright,” she gives in, “that’s how young love is, i guess. anyway, have you eaten the soup yet?”
“almost all of it,” i report proudly, rubbing my stomach.
“only forced,” chris side-eyes me and i roll my eyes at him.
“and the tea?” mary lou just keeps going. well, i definitely know where her son gets the caring from.
i grab the mug that’s been sitting on the table for two hours and could now be considered iced tea and hold it up for her to see, “this is my third,” i take a sip.
“very good. okay, well, i just wanted to check if chris is taking good care of you. it’s important for you to get enough rest, don’t go to sleep too late, alright darling? i have to go now but if you need something just give me a call. i’ll talk to you both in the morning. good night, i love you,” she blows two kisses as we tell her we love her and then she ends the call.
right when chris puts his phone down we hear the doorbell ring.
we both glance at the direction of the front door as if we could see through it and figure out who’s standing on the other side. then we turn and look at each other.
“expecting someone?” chris asks me and i just shake my head no and shrug unknowingly.
“open up!” the voice sounds muffled but it’s unmistakably matt.
chris rolls his eyes and sighs loudly and i just giggle.
he moves the blanket and gets up to go open the door but stops in his tracks suddenly, turns around again, bends down and kisses me.
“won’t be able to do that for a while if he’s here,” he explains before he goes.
matt and nick do complain every time we kiss in front of them, so we agreed on trying not to do it anymore. they act like little kids being forced to see their parents being all lovey-dovey with each other. at least one of them always yells “GET A ROOM!” as if they’re not invading our personal space. big babies, like i said.
“what’s up, bitches?” nick walks in wearing the pajamas we wanted to match, holding up his hands. one holding what i assume is my set of the exact same one and a pillow in his other hand.
i jump up from the couch immediately and squeal as i run toward him to hug him.
“what are you doing here?” i ask once we let go of each other, our smiles still as big as ever.
“since chris is here breathing in germs and this one,” he points his thumb over his shoulder where matt is giving chris a pajama pair, “is already sick i thought we might as well have our movie night here since i’m getting it from one of you either way.”
“i’m so happy,” i squeak, elongating the words.
“aren’t you happy to see me too?” matt acts sad and offended when he moves to stand next to nick.
i roll my eyes but give him a big hug, “i am actually.”
chris scoffs and we all laugh. he moves to stand closer to me and i wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to look at him.
“you guys can go in the kitchen, grab some snacks while me and chris put on our pajamas,” i say to nick and matt, my eyes still locked on my boyfriend.
they do as they’re told once the’ve put down their things and soon enough they’re out of sight.
“you good?” chris asks me quietly, stroking my hair gently
“yeah. i just realized our alone time is over,” i respond in a hushed tone.
he gives me a kiss on the forehead before he talks, “it’s okay, we’ll just go up to your room when they’re asleep. nothing’s keeping me away from you tonight.”
hearing it makes comfort spread in my chest in a way i didn’t know i needed right now.
“i love you so much, chris. thank you for everything,” i try to sound genuine, because i truly am.
he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head until his lips meet mine.
“i love you too, ma.”
taglist:
@strniolosworld @that-general-simp @sturniolosreads @whoreforchr1s
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic
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Can you do a Bucky barnes x stark reader, preferably with an age gap. Like maybe they are trying to hide their relationship but somehow it got out.
dog tags
summary | bucky's prized possession is what exposes your relationship with him
pairing | bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader
warning | fluff, secret relationship, angst-ish
word count | 1.0k
“Buck.” You whispered, tilting your head back even farther, giving him more access to his neck. “Someone’s gonna catch us.”
As much as you didn’t want to be out in the open, you weren’t trying that hard to get him to remove himself from the crook of your neck.
Letting out a quiet moan when Bucky sucked on your neck, gripping onto his hair tighter.
“You say that babydoll,” He whispered into your ear, “your brain is saying one thing but your body is saying another.”
Finally being able to push him away, you kissed him one more time, your hands gripping onto his collar, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip, before pushing into his mouth. His tongue fought with yours, trying to gain the dominance, knowing it really wasn’t working.
“Goodnight Mr. Barnes.” You whispered, starting to walk into your arm, your hand finally slipping from his.
“Goodnight Miss. Stark.”
-
Coming down for breakfast the next morning, woken up by the F.R.I.D.A.Y. for the third time this week, changing out of your pajamas and brushing your teeth before coming down.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed again.” Sam snorted, seeing your face, your eyes droopy, sleep marks still present on your face.
“Shut up.” You muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “How are you even awake?”
Sam just laughed, pouring you a cup of coffee, setting it down by your usual spot at the table.
You ignored all the conversations around you, continuously drinking your coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in at any minute now.
“Jesus, Y/n!” Hearing your name, you looked up to see your brother looking at you, his mouth wide open and eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, “Who attacked you?”
Confused, you looked dumbfounded at him. Seeing Natasha next to him, pointing towards your neck, you looked down, seeing some hickies left on your collarbone and assuming there were more on your neck.
“Oh.” You sighed, giving a small smile, “Sorry, kind of got a little heated last night.”
The team thought you were going out with a guy you had met a few weeks ago at the coffee shop, something to steer them off the path of you and Bucky being together.
Your relationship with him was going on 5 months now and you still hadn’t told the team. Neither of you weren’t in the mood for everyone to know and Bucky knew if the press heard about it, the two of you would plastered over the whole city in no time.
“I want to give you something.” You shifted yourself to sit up on your side, looking over at Bucky. Twisting to grab something off his nightstand before looking back at you. “I want you to wear them.
Resting them in your palm, you looked down at his dog tags. You remembered him telling you that was one of the only things that he kept before he was captured, and he kept it with him as a keep sack.
“B,” You whispered, running your finger over the grooves of his name, “I can’t take these.”
“I want to have them.” Taking them he placed them over your head, letting them fall right between your collarbones. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
-
You stayed in the command room that was able to hold all signals whenever someone went on missions.
It was Bucky’s first solo mission with the team and you were more than nervous. Your eyes looked at every screen, your finger fiddling with his dog tags.
“How long?” You turned to see Steve, standing by the doorway, not knowing how long he was there.
You just sighed, “6 months.”
Steve could tell the minute you left how on edge you were and seeing his dog tags confirmed it all.
Walking towards you, Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest. “He’s okay, you know how he is, he’ll be back all fine.”
You just simply nodded, your hand still clutching onto his dog tags. Giving you another squeeze, Bucky left you to your own accords.
The mission lasted for another two days, and when you saw that the Quinjet was getting closer and closer to New York, you made your way up to the tarmac. The rest of the team was already there when you arrived, seeing the Quinjet made its way through the clouds.
Watching as the Quinjet landed, you were impatient waiting for him to come out. Watching as the landing strip opened, seeing Bucky walk down the steps, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Looking up, Bucky saw you running up towards him, instantly wrapping your arms around him. Letting out a grunt, he wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly off the ground as he continued to walk towards the rest of the Avengers.
The rest of the team looked shocked at you, seeing you continue to hold onto Bucky.
“Uh, what is this?” Tony looked at the two of you, mostly you.
“Surprise.” You whispered towards your brother, still stuck to Bucky’s side. “We’re together.”
“Why did you keep it a secret?”
“I knew.” Steve interjected.
“We did too.” Clint gestured towards the rest of the team. You looked over at them confused, “You’re not that slick, and Tony was just too obsessed with himself to notice you and Barnes are together.”
You looked up at Bucky who was already looking down at you.
“Missed you.” He whispered, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips.
“Gross!” You turned to see your brother looking like a teenage girl. “I know everyone knows I’m not Barnes’s best friend but if you hurt my little sister, I’ll personally send you to a living hell.”
“Of course Stark.” Bucky nodded. Pulling you with him, he took you back into his apartment.
“Don’t have to hide anymore.” He whispered in your ear, tucking his head into your neck, pressing open-lip kisses all over.
“Buck.” You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair before pulling him off you. “If I’m not on your bed in the next 30 seconds, I’m leaving.”
Letting out a gasp, seeing everything upside down and over Bucky’s shoulder as he carried you towards the bed, dropping you down like a sack of potatoes.
Smiling, you removed his gear, pulling you closer towards him.
“Good to have you back Sargeant.”
fin.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x girlfriend!reader#bucky barnes x stark!reader#bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader#bucky barnes fluff#stark!reader#bucky barnes
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╰┈➤ ULTRAVIOLENCE ✦ SUGURU GETO.
⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ On Christmas evening of 2009 Geto Suguru receives an unexpected gift, a cure to his loneliness, and a curse to his mission of creating his "new world".
⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader, cult leader!geto suguru, canon divergent, profanity, prostitution, yandere!getou suguru, possessive behavior,smut, f1ngering, hand job, mutual masturbation, nipple stimulation, mutual pining, heavy angst, angst and tragedy, canon-typical violence; 4,7k word count + this this for @nagumoan's collab: 'dance with the dead'
| blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. + cross-posted to ao3.|
30th of September, 2007.
The warmth and the humidity in the air have been settling on Geto’s skin for a while. The shrill cry of cicadas has been ringing in his ears. Even now, he can hear it amidst the sound of running water, washing dishes, and the table fan.
“Otou-san will be home soon, Sugu. You don’t have to wait for him to come back. Nowadays, he works till late at night.” The elderly woman puts the poached egg in the ramen bowl and places it in front of her son. Suguru stares at the food with plain slate eyes. “Your father thinks he can help you with your higher studies.” —his mother wipes her frail, slightly wrinkled hands in her apron before dragging the chair and sitting in front of her son, face to face— “But actually, he just misses having you around the house since you moved in the dorms last month. Is the food there okay? Are you eating well?”
Suguru does not speak. He gulps remembering the taste of curses. He has been doing his job like a robot all this summer— exorcise, absorb, digest. exorcise, absorb, digest, exorcise, absorb, digest, absorb, digest— “How is Satoru?” his mother asks pulling him back into reality. Her smile was so soft smile that Suguru thought it could make lilies bloom. He just listens to his mother like he usually does whenever he visits her. His eyes fall onto the ramen bowl again, there are hot fumes emerging from it. They must smell delicious like he remembers. But unfortunately, it failed to thrum the strings of Geto Suguru’s heart.
“Okaa-san, it’s okay. I’m not that hungry. I can wait for Otou-san to come home.” he remarks, smiling at his mother letting the food get cold. He has done this so many times, engaging his mother in talk so that she does not notice how hard it is for him to chew, swallow & eat without experiencing the taste and smell of it. All he can feel on his tongue is the rotten taste of curses, the aroma of dying corpses of his fellow jujutsu sorcerers. Maybe this is why he is losing weight so fast, not because of the heat. The more he tried to cling onto the mundanity of humans the farther it slipped away from him; like sand spilling through the gaps of his fingers.
“But why aren’t you in your school dress, my dear?” His mother asks, noticing him in normal black trousers and shirt.
“Oh! It got too much dirt.” He responds, looking at the clock in the kitchen.
This time will be the last time he sees his mother’s smile, hears her voice, sees her cook food for him, and the last time he welcomes his father to home.
3rd of February, 2008
“Oka-san. Otou-san. I’m turning 18 today.” Suguru jocked down to sit in front of his parents' graveyard. He places a few incense sticks with the fragrance of chrysanthemum, two bowls full of ramen, and some sake in front of the graveyard. He looks at the poached eggs, and the lump in his throat bobs once. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come on your funeral day.”
“Neeh—Oka-san, are you listening?” His eyes perk up. “Is it bad that I don’t regret any of this?” There is a pause before he stands up again. He finishes his last bit of cigarette and burns the butt with his cursed energy. “But you know what? I’m now less angry and more guilty. Guilty of so many things—”
“Geto-sama, we don’t have much time. They will tail us soon if we are here any longer than this.” Manami speaks with worry carefully buried under her commanding tone. His phone vibrates. He checks the caller ID. Shui Kong it read. A salacious curve appears at one corner of his lip. Disbanding the star religious group was a piece of cake for him. And, now with the help of Shui Kong, he will get an endless influx of money and curses in no time yet it would not be enough to defeat ‘the strongest’; he thinks. nope, that’s wrong, deep down, he knows that.
“Yeah, you are right. Nanako and Mimiko will get scared if they wake up and find none of us.” Geto smiles before turning on his feet to walk. As he starts to walk Manami waits till he goes ahead of her, at least eight feet from her and then she follows Geto Suguru. Geto's shadow does not even touch Manami’s, never does, she makes sure of that. She does not belong to his shadow, nor as his comrade but perhaps a part of the ‘family’ that Geto-sama keeps talking about.
“I won’t be here next year,” Suguru murmurs to himself before stepping out of the graveyard. He never looked back that day not while walking, not while getting in the car, and not even through the mirror. He did not feel the need to look back.
24th of December 2009
Geto Suguru skims through the thick crowd in the front lounge of one of the most expensive brothels in the city like the bow of a ship through the waves. There are men on couches, beautiful women over them, and the blended aroma of strong cologne and burning tobacco fills the air. Not only that, the tingling music mixed with waves of laughter of women and men makes Geto slaver at the thought of killing them all. He could do it now. He has both, power and confidence. But he is not here to create a massacre.
“Getou-sama,” a familiar low hum reaches his ears making him turn his head. At first, he thought he was just imagining it then he felt a tug in his baggy pants. He lowers his eyes to the ground.
“Ahhhhh! Nanako—Suguru takes her in his arms and clears his throat before speaking making it tart at every stretch of his words— “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at the car? It's not safe for you here.” Not only it is unsafe but also inappropriate. A girl of her age should not witness the path that could also been her if he had not saved Nanako and her twin sister two years ago. Geto strolls back towards his car. “Negi, make sure she does not follow me. ” He instructs this young lad who drove Geto today keeping a sleeping Nanako inside the car.
“Well, she wouldn't have been here if she didn't fight with her sister,” Negi responds before bowing down. Geto watches the car go inside the parking area and then he vanishes into the thick crowd like a pebble in the wind of lust, power, money, and scandal. He earns a few curious stares and with such enormously handsome features and elegantly electrifying personality who would miss? It dawns on his mind that he killed the Yakuza who owned this brothel a week ago. The crowd is bearable, well, penetrable at least. Walking amongst non-sorcerers makes him nauseous at times but now he has reached the point where a part of him is willing to abolish this useless crowd in a snap. But he does not need to, not now. Now is not the time, nor the place.
Geto Suguru should have been at his new home with his new family spending this fine Christmas evening drinking. In all honesty, he did not even have to cut through this lustrous mob if Shui Kong kept his word, that is, delivering the money in the proper place and time. The only reason why he came in person to collect the money was because Shui Kong was the one who helped him to get a grasp on the star religious group. Not only that, he kept giving Geto information about such groups, and with his cursed manipulation technique he gobbled them up in no time. It was a walk in the park for him.
There was a steady flow of curses and money. Even certain small yakuza gangs, the smart ones but with lower manpower, started to send favors to appease him. He is like a god of the underworld now. But some dumb power-hungry yakuza men refused to retort to such steps and hence, they fell prey to his curses. He is going to eventually kill all these foxes but not now. He needs them now, he needs them to dilute his presence and make himself untraceable in the hands of jujutsu sorcerers. Killing the lions has already been a huge loss.
“There you are, Mr.Kong.” Geto remarked walking into the room. He does not take a sit rather stands against the door almost covering the entrance.
“Forgive me—” Shui starts with a brilliant smile that has cracked more deals than existed. He is not a pawn but a rook. “I would have gone to your place but I am needed to resolve an issue here.”
Geto chuckles. “Maybe it's your need that brought you here.” He quipped as Shui kept two briefcases on the bed.
Shui Kong gives him an assertive look before smiling. He lights up a cigarette and says, “ Would have been a happier man if that were the case but— ” There is a ridge between Geto’s eyebrows as he refuses to finish his thoughts. Blowing a puff into the air he turns his head to the other side of the room, towards another door, and yells from the bottom of his lungs. “Princess, I don't have all day.” Geto’s eyebrows do not let go of the tension. His arms are now crossed tightly across his chest, lower lip gleaming since he swiped his tongue across it. He just needs to see this princess, just for once.
“You see, someone asked for her, a fox from a rival gang.” Kong starts to explain. The cigarette in between his index and middle finger keeps sizzling in scarlet red. “he is saying he is gonna pay full for her— you know — but she was attacked while working —”
Geto’s dark eyes are now stuck on the doorknob. It starts to rotate. He registers Shui’s words who is scrolling through his phone to call them. The click of the doorknob makes Geto release the breath he was holding back, slowly. Before the slightest part between the door and the frame, Geto’s lips part exclaiming, “Shhhhhhh!” with a hiss at the end.
You unlock the door and wait for an opening to interrupt their conversation.
Shui Kong looks at Geto and then he follows those dark drunk eyes of Geto Suguru that took him to the other side of the room. There you stood, in a translucent white dress covering you from head to toe. There is a rose around your neck and rose leaves on the hem of your full-sleeved dress but beneath the dress, anyone could easily see the bandages around certain parts of your body — scattered and ripped. Your nipples are visible too. They are perked. Geto maintains his stance, hands inside his pocket and standing by supporting his shoulder against the door frame. Only his lips move, growling and raging underneath. “So, there are still those who don't obey me,” His eyes drink in your appearance so shamelessly; utterly shamelessly.
You rake away your eyes from this man of Six feet and some inches, clamping your palms around your upper arms. Geto walks inside the room. “There will be no exchange of anything from here, Shui Kong-san.” He does not take any of the suitcases just your cell phone from the dressing table.
“Passcode?”
You exchange glances with Shui Kong before opening your mouth. He nods. You answer him, “4444.” Geto's eyes flash onto you checking if you are mocking him or not. You are not. He unlocks your phone checks the search history.
“There’s a lot of porn here.”
You rub your upper arms slowly and say, “It’s not like my clients are interested in my pleasure— or my well-being.”
“You need to check her phone to tell? Can't you tell just by looking at her?” That earns Shui Kong a momentary glare.
“Yet you are willing to sell her,” Geto prompts sarcastically with a smile plastered on his face. There is an edge in his voice. Shui does not protest. He knows what he is doing. “You can stay with me,” He offers, without thinking about the consequences of it. “Of course, you’ll keep working, then.” It takes you a moment to decipher his words but it is not something unexpected.
“Oh, I don’t mind, whatever you want.” You say quickly. “I can follow orders.” Embarrassment seeps into your skin as you realize how rushed those words were that came out of your mouth. Scanning him through the corner of your eye, you find him smirking still checking your phone.
“Get her things in the car. She will be staying with me from now on.” Geto remarks slipping the phone in his pocket before leaving.
Shui Kong sits on the bed, soft and pink with a thud. “Do you realize what you are doing, Y/N?”
“You heard him.” You say getting out of those high heels and changing into flats. Even though you are bruised you managed to get your trolley. It is a good thing that you wore a long coat to cover yourself up. People are already staring, what would they have done if you turned up in such scantily dressed attire? Your Madame has already been summoned. Getting out of the building you look around and find Geto Suguru talking to your Madame. Shui Kong is also there. The moment you open the door of the car you spot a kid sleeping on the back seat. This must be Nanako. You adjust the kid's head on your lap. She's gonna get her neck sprained if she sleeps like that. Through the window, you see Geto still talking to your Madame, as he keeps jerking his leg impatiently and occasionally scratching his forehead with his thumb.
“We can't afford to do that — her regulars — they will complain. ” she tartly remarks.
“Well, give them a discount. You know how the system works, so figure something out with Shui Kong-san.”
“Have it your way then. She was a jinx anyways ” She remarks letting all the disappointment out. It piques Geto’s interest because when he saw you, you were not looking at him, you were looking behind him. A feeble curse not visible to normal people but visible to people with enough cursed energy to become a sorcerer or an exorcist. He specifically customized this curse after digesting it to pick up ‘talents’ like you who are considered as ‘freaks’ by those idiots. Just like Nanako and Mimiko.
“What do you mean?” He tries to sound curious hiding his disgust underneath the question because he has seen all the gore behind the glory of it all.
“People say that she is a witch. She kills men and takes their money. She’s got a black cat, a big one. Can talk to birds. I’ve seen her—” Suddenly the street lights, the honking of the cars, and the sound of footsteps of passersby became loud. Geto could not hear her properly anymore. Damn filthy monkeys.
“Excuse me, I’ve got to make a call.” One more minute of her blabbering nonsense he would have killed her. Geto calls Manami stepping aside in the dark shade of the alley. He talks for about five minutes before looking your way. You do not look away, rather give him a warm smile and bow your head to appreciate his kind gesture. He immediately turns around. You think he did not see you or maybe looking at someone else or somewhere else but all he could do is stumble on his words while talking to Manami. It’s distracting. You’re distracting.
Geto Suguru walks towards the car and you fold Nanako’s legs a little to make space for him but he disappoints you thoroughly. He sits beside the driver, the barrier is up so you can not see his face. Disappointment and hurt sedimenting at the bottom of your heart you arch your head and close your eyes. It feels like, after a long time, you have closed your eyes and not for the pretense of pleasure.
January, 2010.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Geto drawls lazily as he sits on the sofa, still in his kasaya freshly finishing after seeing his visitors. He was out of town for almost a week and hence today's session was longer than usual. He needs a bath, a nice warm bath, not some scum to show up at his doorstep begging for you.
There are a bunch of men standing behind the older man, who seems to be the leader of the group; all armed, and Geto sits alone at the opposite. At times like these, he feels a little closer to the god. A middle-aged man, speaks keeping his gun on the center table, perhaps to assert dominance Geto thinks too but it makes him nothing but widen his smile. “You have something that belongs to me. And I have something that would interest you more so why don't we—”
Splotches of blood fall on his gun, warmth settling on his cheeks too like drops of oil. He turns his head to find that one of his men is sliced into two. Geto clears his throat gaining his attention again. “What a mess you have made, Toshiro-san. ” He gets up from his seat and before leaving he remarks huskily, “Please clean this up before you leave, Toshiro-san” The man, dumbfounded by what just happened, nods in agreement watching the man disappear into the inner quarters.
The dawn dies, painting the blue sky with its blood-red, agony welcoming the full moon and her bevy of stars. At night, Geto Suguru is not a monk anymore. He is much more than that — a father figure to two homeless orphans, an idol to a few who believe in his dream of creating a ‘new world’ and a savior to you.
It has been almost a month since Geto Suguru brought you to his home. At the dawn of the 25th of December 2009, when you woke up, Manami was there to help you with the chores and show you around. You have spotted Negi a few times while roaming and exploring the house, but there was no sign of that man, your so-called ‘savior’. When you asked Manami, she was rather cold while answering, “Geto-sama will be home around New Year's.”
It was not hard to pinpoint her jealousy for you. “Whore”, “Slut”, “Homebreaker”, “Witch” — the list continues. Her jealousy is just the tip of ice-berg. Maybe she had to sacrifice something greater when Geto took her in, something more important than freedom. Apart from her cold demeanor, everything was just fine; it was more than you could ask for. The wounds and bruises have started to fade. They are barely pinnable now. Nanako has a twin sister, Mimiko. They have warmed up to you more quickly than you imagined and a part of you was grateful to them since Manami became humbler in her gestures.
This fine morning, you noticed a new pair of shoes near the doormat. You knew it had to be his, Geto Suguru. He is home. Today might be the first time you get to talk to him, pay off his debts, or maybe keep working while staying here just like he said or whatever he decides to do with you. It was odd that he did not suspect you at all, or maybe he told someone to do a background check. He seems like the kind of person who would hold such powers. You have heard about him even if they reached out to you in the form of rustling rumors.
“Are you comfortable here?”
Losing your balance you topple on your feet and eventually fall on the ground. Nanako and Mimiko peeks by his legs. They are not even at his knee length, so small, so fragile and so full of life. They laugh and so do you. Geto Suguru is unimpressed. He crouches down pulling the girls in front of him. “Go and play in my room but don’t fight, alright?” The shift in his demeanor amazes you. He has changed. He is nothing like you have been warned about.
As soon as the twins leave, giggles and voices filling the corridor Geto’s eyes shift on you. You are still on the ground, legs half-folded. He extends his hand towards you to help you get up but you flinch away, sliding against the wall. In the middle of this long corridor, Geto Suguru is on his knees before you watching as if something fell from the sky, a boon, an angel.
His lips extended from ear to ear, flashing his teeth. “What's up with this coy act of yours?” He wets his bottom lip.“Too timid for a whore. I know you can see things.” Your eyebrows grew closer as you got up and formed a response in your head.
“It's hard to break years of habit,” you speak, “Sir.” you quip, seeing him still on his knees. Why isn’t he standing up? Does he need a hand?
“Not gonna complain that I called you a ‘whore’ ?” He taunts, standing up and facing you.
“Too timid for that sir,” you say keeping up the eye contact. But that does not last long. Geto’s dark globules follow your behind. You notice too that there is a shadow on the wall of the corridor of a lady. He sighs heavily exclaiming, “Manami. You can come out now,”
Timidly she walks out of the room exclaiming in a firm tone after clearing her throat, “Getou-sama, your bath has been prepared.”
“Have you prepared my clothes too?” He narrows the gulf in between the two of you and grabs a few strands of your hair smelling it, letting his lips graze over a little, and checking your reactions as Manami answers.
“No. Not yet. I’ll do it right—“Actually, prepare two sets of clothes.” Geto interrupts. The way your chest heaves, up and down, frantically tempts him to tease you more. “Hers too. She will be joining me.”
Geto was kind not to ask you to strip in front of him. It was not like you would not be used to that; you had practiced enough still you thought his eyes would alone eat you away if you were to undress in front of him. Curling up your braided hair in a bun and securing it with a clip you enter the bathroom. He is already in the bathtub, head arched, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down. You walk slowly trying not to make any sound. “You know, of all the curses I’ve swallowed—” you gasp loudly palming your face.
“Can you not do that, please? Every time i feel like my heart is gonna jump out of my chest.” So many words in one sentence; a question; a request; a demand; a plea. Suguru blinks: once, twice, and thrice. “Yours have a very distinct sweet smell.” His words slurred, inaudible at the end. This is the first time he has seen you speak so much and that too, only to him but that is not what warms his heart. ‘Sir.’ you did not add sir. He hated the honorifics with you. “And . . . I’m not a curse.” You mutter before dipping yourself in the bathtub sitting against the wall of the bathtub facing him.
You notice the huge X-shaped scar over his chest. “How did you get that?” you ask playing with the water not meeting his eye. His toes touch the side of your hips, hands resting on the white of the bathtub but when he does not answer you look up to him and see his hands near your ankles. There is a brief eye contact of realization about what’s he up to and in the next blink you are close to him.
“Do you wanna feel it?” He asks touching his forehead against yours.
“The pain?” You say, running his hands over his chest careful enough not to touch his nipple. “Or just the scar.”
“How did you get this?” He rubs the mark of one of your wounds on your arm. “And this?” he asks, a little concerned by the number and place of the wounds you have all over the body. They have faded but not totally. The agony on his face is clear but you remind yourself it is not because of you. It must be because he is reminded of how he got his scar.
“Mostly clients.” You answer noticing his hands trailing up to your breasts. Your mouth parts, eager moan willing to escape. “But some men like them. Some men don’t. So, they pay to heal them in a way like they were never there,”
“What kind do you think I’m?” Suguru asks but you fail to answer since his hands have started to massage your breasts, nice and slow. Your moans have started to weigh more, the bottom and lower lip parting with each other more. Your vision turns black as his mouth latches on the column of your neck but that is not where it is needed now. Your taut nipples need desperate attention. Moving closer to him, your palm is over his cock. He is hard, leaking even. A gran escapes from his mouth, edgy and elongated. One of his fingers dips inside your vagina. Woah. You’re wet, so very wet. Even under the water, he can feel your arousal, even smell it. You buck your hips a bit giving him an invitation. The sloshing sound of water feels more embarrassing than your moans. He does not take it but when you start to pump his cock in long, deep, and fast strokes he leans towards you taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You should have known how strong he is when he dragged you closer to himself because the way he is sucking and biting you think you will cum soon. He starts to rub your clit in rough, rigorous movements as his mouth works on your nipples. For a moment your hands feel lithe; your hands pause working his cock.
“You smell so good,” He murmurs unlatching his mouth and licking up to your collarbone from the base of your cleavage. You twist and tilt your head as his lips explore your neck while pushing his fingers up and down inside your vagina, nudging your sweet spot. Your hands start to pump his cock again, harder and faster this time, reverting him the favor with the same intensity and emotion. You feel him smirk against your skin before he bites your earlobes making you jolt. Another arm that rested on the valley of your waist tugs you closer, again; you think he is going to pull you onto his lap, fuck you deep, nice, and full. “Fuck” he mutters feeling his cock tense up. The sloshing of water now gets mixed with your loud moans mixed with his low grunts. Geto looks at your face, your eyes meeting his and occasionally landing on his lips and one of your hands gripping too hard on the whites of the bathtub. Both of your hands pick up the pace, matching the intensity and the ragged breathing. Eyes rolling white, jaw clenching hard, head arching back as the wave of orgasm approaches both of you.
“You’re close,” you huff and pant in between feeling his warm ejaculated fluid onto your hand.
“So are you,” he murmurs cumming as you keep pumping his cock till it stops. Geto pulls his fingers out of your messy aching cunt and shamelessly puts them in his mouth, licking and sucking it to the base of his fingers. You watch him as if he is the man to take your first time. The loneliness, the affection, the desire— all hit Suguru in a flash like a downpour as he notices you looking. He gets out of the bathtub and steps into the shower zone. When you hear the water running, you step out of the bathtub too but do not join him in the shower instead grab your phone with a towel that was in the pocket of his previous attire. Typing a number, you hit the send button and immediately delete it from the history.
The message read: [“I’m in.”]
note: special thanks to my dearest fumi aka dom ( @akiniku ) for constantly listening to my ideas, talking me through them, and beta-reading this when I finished it. I finished writing this today and it was so rushed by Dom talked me through it and gave me the course I needed. hope you enjoyed reading it. thank you for making it this far. i do want to continue this but will see if i can manage time to write after october.
also tagging @orchid3a @semisgroupie
#angelshubnetwork#suguru smut#geto smut#geto x reader#getou smut#geto suguru smut#geto x you#geto x y/n#suguru x reader#suguru x you#suguru x y/n#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jjk fanfic#jjk geto#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#smut fanfiction#jjk angst#geto angst#suguru angst
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TFC’s Completely Normal Afternoon Where Nothing Goes Wrong And Nobody Dies Horribly
(shoutout to @lindentree for inspiring this silly fic!)
TFC sat in his little bachelor pad, coffee in hand, watching the steam rise out of his mug.
It was a nice mug, all things considered. A gift from the other Hermits. A handmade blue thing, turned on a potter’s wheel, with an extra-large handle to give his old hands a break sometimes. Full of coffee from his ancient coffee machine, that gurgled and growled like a jackhammer being waterboarded.
TFC took a sip, and winced. Okay, so maybe it was time to leave the mine and get more coffee. He’d re-used the grounds for the fourth time, and now it was really starting to get properly bitter.
He drummed his fingers on his glass-top table, listening to the echo against the cold stone walls of his little antechamber. Maybe he’d decorate the walls at some point soon.
TFC shrugged, and opened his comm. Hopefully one of the other Hermits had some coffee beans. He wiped the stone dust off his screen, and held down the three buttons to switch it on. Yes, he kept his comm strapped to his arm like almost every other player with some semblance of sense. No, he refused to let the damn thing be awake for any longer than it needed to be. The Hermits were chatty folks, and when TFC was deep in his mines and deep in thought, the last thing he needed interrupting his musings was a million buzzing noises as Cleo and Jevin got into a slapfight in the general chat.
TFC’s personal logo flashed across the screen (the three letters of his name in red, natch) and he took another slurp of his bitter coffee, wrinkling his nose. The comm beeped, and TFC opened the group chat and tapped out a quick message.
<Tinfoilchef> anyone got any more coffee? I’m clean out.
He put his comm down, and took another swig.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
TFC frowned. He was a patient man by nature. The same could not be said of the other Hermits, who were usually falling over themselves to help each other out.
And he hadn’t gotten a reply yet.
It had been a whole ninety seconds.
TFC scrolled up in chat, and he sighed, rubbing his face. He sank back in his chair in annoyance.
Of course.
He tabbed upwards, watching things spiral out of control… in reverse.
<Renthedog was blanched to death>
<Renthedog> THE PAIN! THE PAIN IS INDESCRIBABLE
<Vintagebeef was portaged to death>
<Vintagebeef> RUN! THE BOATS! THE BOATS ARE COMING!
TFC rubbed his temples with his free hand, sighing in exasperation. ‘
“Guys, I dug up five stacks of diamonds, don’t make me do this…I don’t want to re-dig those tunnels…” TFC groaned.
And of course the nonsense kept coming as he scrolled farther and farther back. Gee, that last message from Ren was about four hours ago, now...
<Iskall85 became part of the weft>
<Iskall85> HELP GOD THE LOOM’S GROWN LEGS
“Does anyone on this server besides me even know HOW to weave?!” TFC growled, averting his gaze from his pile of unfinished weaving in the corner of the room. It didn’t exist. He couldn’t see it. His WIP’s couldn’t hurt him.
And on and on it went.
<Xisumavoid was hooked to death>
<Grian was torqued to death>
<Tango was unraveled to death>
<Zombiecleo was racqueted to death>
“Right, I’ve seen enough.” TFC sighed, “On the bright side, at least I’ll have all the coffee I had a week ago, so there’s that…”
He carefully tabbed through his various screens and menus until he arrived at the one bit of his comm that was set aside for admin functions. Now, TFC wasn’t a server admin. That much was true. But he had slight admin privileges, for one thing and one thing only: server rollbacks.
While, say, Hypno would have had an extensive wall of options, showing his permissions and all sorts of bells and whistles, TFC’s admin console had a text box to input a date and a big red “GO” button.
He looked mournfully at his ender chest, and, with a sigh, keyed in a date one week prior.
And TFC jabbed his thumb on the big red button.
The world flashed white, utterly blinding him, and a second later TFC was deep in the branch mine in a half-finished tunnel, the same spot he’d been exactly a week prior.
Unfortunately, he was still in a comfortable sitting position, resting all his weight on a chair that suddenly wasn’t there, so he immediately toppled to the ground, landing on his ass in an undignified heap.
“Ow.” TFC muttered, sitting up slowly and tapping through his messages.
<Xisuma> oh, we rolled back. Is everyone alright!?
<Tango> Mumbo you are BANNED FROM TIME TRAVEL
<MumboJumbo> It wasn’t me this time! I mean it was. But blame Zedaph!
<Zedaph> ME?! No! Blame Cub! Cub gave me the doodad!
TFC rolled his eyes and typed out a message.
<Tinfoilchef> Does anyone have any fresh coffee beans?
Silence.
No messages. No new complaining. As all the hermits re-read TFC’s words and soaked them in.
Finally, Cleo broke the silence.
<Zombiecleo> TFC. How many times did you re-use your last filter of grounds.
<TinfoilChef> eh, six? Seven?
<Zombiecleo> are you telling me we’d all still be in shuttlecock hell if you hadn’t gotten sick of the taste of reused coffee grinds?!
<TinfoilChef> Pretty much, yeah
<TinfoilChef> anyway
<TinfoilChef> does anyone have some fresh coffee?
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Take It Slow
MINORS DNI
Yuuta Okkotsu x afab!reader
wc: 4.1k
warning(s): established relationship, friends to lovers implied, heavy petting, fingering, masturbation, oral (reader receiving), choking (reader receiving), instance of breath play as a result, slight corruption kink from Yuuta, inexperienced reader, a single instance of slightly mean Yuuta, reader’s chest anatomy is not referenced/described
a/n: first NSFW piece in a VERY long time, was picked from the poll so here you go! hope you all enjoy :)! Also jus wanna say there is NOTHING weird or wrong about being a virgin at any age just so you guys know <33 🫶 also in case it needs to be said, this is an unrealistic portrayal of participating in kink for the first time! Boundaries and safety should be discussed at length before these things, but this is fiction so just wanted to make that clear 😭🤍 anyways enjoy <3
“Yuuta, stop! I don’t wanna talk about it!” You whined and buried your face further into his chest hoping to spare yourself of the embarrassment from the conversation you’re sure the two of you are about to have.
“Sweetheart, I’m your boyfriend, you knew it was gonna come up sooner or later. Besides, you’re literally the one who started the conversation! There’s no way you’re getting out of it now.” He let out a few boyish chuckles as he tried to pry your face away from him and out of the covers, just to see you pressing your lips together and closing your eyes in protest.
Sure, did you figure at some point the fact you haven’t gone farther than holding hands and sharing a few quick pecks was gonna be brought up? Probably. Especially after 4 whole months of being in a relationship? Maybe. Did you think it’d be right now? No! But is it your fault? Unfortunately, yes.
You’d known Yuuta long before the two of you started dating, having been apart of his friend group since freshman year of high school, and you’ve always had a secret crush on your friend. He was kind, never failed to make you smile, charmingly awkward (so charming you almost thought he faked it), & all things endearing. It wasn’t until a few months ago, now in your fourth and final year at University, that the two of you had confessed your feelings for the other. You had a bottle of tequila and Maki to thank for that.
And honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect since. He was still sweeter than ever, a complete gentleman always, and even though it’d only been a couple months he’s never failed to make you constantly feel cared for and appreciated. There was only one problem: how were you supposed to tell him you’ve lied about every instance of you hooking up ever? And you haven’t even done so much as grind on someone, let alone fuck?
Maybe you could blame it on Yuuji, he’s the one who brought it up the first time anyways, innocently teasing you about how “you probably don’t even know how to give head”. He was 16, and all 16 year old boys are stupid as shit - besides Yuuta you suppose - so you’ll forgive him for it.
“Fuck you Yuuji, you’re just saying that cause you’re embarrassed you can’t last longer than 10 seconds inside a girl.”
“That literally happened once, and it was my first time! What, you’re telling me your first time was any better?”
It was just humiliating to think of looking at your friends, who definitely weren’t virgins anymore (besides Toge, maybe Toge, you never really trusted his whole story - but that’s beside the point), and tell them yeah no, I haven’t even seen a dick in person!
“No, he was ass, too.” You did your best to not draw attention to the way your palms were sweating profusely, fighting every instinct in you to wipe them off on the denim of your jeans.
“Yep, fits the bill.” Mai rolled her eyes at the thought of her own experience with a man, must’ve been pretty bad.
It’d make more sense to blame it on your age than Yuuji really, looking back it wouldn’t have been embarrassing for more than a couple weeks at most to have admitted you were a virgin when the matter was pressed. But that’s not what past you thought, and now it’s current you’s problem.
“I know, I know, but now I change my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Your lips are pushed out and puckered slightly from the way Yuuta has your cheeks squished together - his best effort at making you smile right now.
He lets go of your cheeks to squeeze your shoulder gently, looking at your face for a moment before speaking softly.
“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’d never judge you for anything, make comments, nothing. Swear on it.” His voice dipped low with sincerity as he dramatically “crossed his heart and hoped to die”, it was a little goofy but that’s okay.
It was hard to speak while he was staring down at you like that, you knew he’d be nothing but gentle and kind, but the thought of actually talking about it made your stomach twist ‘n turn.
“Uh”, your voice trembled more than you’d like to admit and it did nothing to help your nerves, “I guess I asked what you’d do if I lied about not being a virgin cause, I’m, like, a virgin. Yeah.” You might’ve stumbled through your sentence, but you got there eventually.
His hand continued to rub circles on your skin as he spoke, “Well, I kind of figured that much when you first asked that, cause why else would you. Is that all you wanted to tell me though?”
Glancing up to meet his eyes, you were confused, visibly confused. Was that it? Was he really not gonna pester about why you lied, when you lied, or why you’re grown and still a virgin?
You squinted your eyes and hummed quietly, unreasonably suspicious of him - which he could clearly see.
Rolling his eyes playfully, he groaned out your name and pulled your face close to his so you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to.
“Ya know, I was kind of talking about the first question you asked me. The one before you cut me off and changed the subject with the whole ‘I’m a virgin thing.’ I want to talk to you about that.”
You’re sure you were listening, it’s just that his face was so close to you that his breath was intermingling with yours, and you could practically taste the gum he was chewing while studying earlier. Not only that but his eyelashes were so pretty and doll like from this angle, looking up at him with his hands still on your cheeks. And his hands were so warm and soft - or was your face warm?
“Are you really ignoring me right now?” He wondered where your mind wandered to, cause clearly with the way you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes and invisible stars circling around your head - you couldn’t have been listening to him.
“Huh?”
Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening to him.
“Baby, are you okay with talking about what you asked me earlier? It’s okay if the answer is no.” His eyes were glued to your face as your own darted around the room.
You wanted to speak up but your throat was dry and your face was hot, and honestly it felt like your jaw was wired shut; a simple nod will have to do.
It felt like the room was getting smaller at the lack of a response from Yuuta until you felt him lean just a tad closer and gently press his lips to your cheek, “would you rather me show you how I take care of myself, or tell you?”
Oh.
Goosebumps rose along the back of your neck and down your arms at the soft volume of his voice in your ear and the way his breath fanned across your cheek.
“Both, please.” The tenor of your voice matched his as your hands fiddled nervously with the hem of your shirt, unsure what to with them while he moved to give you a kiss and sit up in front you.
The embarrassment of how you asked Yuuta how to give a hand job from earlier began to fade and be replaced with curiosity and eagerness at the sight of Yuuta reaching down to palm at himself.
It was still embarrassing, staring so shamelessly at his growing bulge in obvious intrigue and desire, but it was Yuuta, and Yuuta would never make you feel bad for having human urges and wanting him in this way.
Hesitantly, once he was ready, he tugged at the fabric of his pajama pants until he was fully exposed. He was happy you were so needy and awe struck at the sight of him, because your undivided attention to the way his cock sits in his hand is making him blush.
He spreads his legs just as much as the stretch of his bottoms let him while he dips forward to drip spit in the direction of his lap, his wrist catching the fabric of his shirt and exposing a tease of his lower stomach as he spreads the spit along the length of his cock. Leaning back into a more comfortable position, you take in the way he’s exposed himself to you, his stomach visibly clenching as he rubs his thumb along the slit at the tip of his cock.
It was firm in his hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together from where you sat watching at the vulgarity of it all. His loud and unashamed whimpering, his leaking and twitchy cock, and the way his eyes were never closed, always watching your face, when you would flick your own up to get a peek at his reactions.
You thought maybe he’d be a little more bashful, slow and careful with what he wanted to show you, but if anything, it seems like he’s been waiting for you to ask.
“You like watching me stroke my cock, hm baby?”
Your clit began to throb at the sudden recognition and reminder that you’re involved just as much as he is, as well as the sound of him speaking, and speaking directly at you.
“Answer me angel, even a nod’s okay. Wanna make sure my baby’s feeling good.” His voice was hoarse, but soft, and the sentiment did nothing more than increase your arousal and send butterflies rampant in your stomach.
Settling further into the situation, and gaining some confidence in return, you make your way over to him slowly as you nod your head.
“Want you to tell me, Yuuta.” Your voice is small, quiet.
“Tell you what, pretty?”
He’s got an air of fake innocence around him as he speaks but you couldn’t care less when you’re so close that you can hear his soft and barely audible panting, and smell the light scent of musk and sweat begin to gather along his clothed skin from his excitement and exertion. You’d give him anything he wants at this point, and you’re certain he knows it.
“Yuuta,”, you whine and move in his direction, hovering over his lap with his cock not quite close enough to press against your covered cunt as he strokes himself, “want you to tell me how it feels.”
The pair of you groan together at the lewdness of it all, both of you reveling in the freedom to finally explore your deep attraction for another, no longer embarrassed or fearful to admit or indulge in it.
“Fuck, feels so good baby. ‘M so hard with you watching me like this. You like knowing you’ve got me and my cock this needy without even touching me?” Whining at his response, you lean into him and sloppily place your lips on his, ignoring the urge to smack him on his chest as he chuckles a, “yeah?”, into your mouth at your eagerness.
You both kiss, messy and loud, as you reach and drag your hand down his torso, lightly drawing circles onto Yuuta’s exposed lower stomach with your fingertips.
A strained groan comes from him at the sensation, sighing into your mouth as he sits up to be impossibly closer to you. It was all too much.
He could feel the heat from your body as your thighs squeeze him from each side, hear the crude noises your pussy makes each time you adjust, and he could just imagine how needy your poor cunt would smell. Feeling his stomach tighten and his head get cloudy, he knew he was close, and he wanted you to watch.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come baby.” Yuuta’s lips were soft and slick with spit as he spoke against yours, while you felt a hand slide from the back of your neck up to the top of your head, turning you to face down and stare at the way his fist was feverishly tugging at his cock.
“Want my sweetheart to watch how hard they’re gonna make me come, how good they’re taking care of me and my cock.” His voice was strained and low, out of breath, and if you weren’t desperate to watch his cock get some release, you would have protested at the sudden lack of kissing.
“Please, need you to show me baby.” You whined and wrapped your hand around Yuuta’s wrist gently, moving in time with the way he was stroking himself.
Hearing your voice was all he needed to let himself go, throwing his head back and getting his sternum sticky with cum as it stained his t-shirt. His balls and cock twitched as he slowed down his movements, whining when he rubs the tip once more, not wanting it to be over. If it wasn’t for the way you were still hovering over his lap, he would’ve let himself stay like this for a while longer, catching his breath and resting his eyes.
But he could see how bad you needed him, your chest heaving and your body hot against his.
Pulling you into his chest, he speaks against your shoulder softly between gentle kisses, “Want me to take care of you too, baby?”
Your body jolts at the prospect, nerves riddling your muscles and your stomach, making you feel almost weak. The thought made you self-conscious just as much as it made you feel exhilarated, but you couldn’t deny the way your cunt was throbbing and hot. You needed him bad, and you could trust Yuuta. You always could.
Words were too hard, like they often were with him in intimate moments like this (the thought of your first date briefly crosses your mind), so you substitute a pleading “yes” for another messy, longing kiss.
“I got you angel,”, was all he said before you were leaned back on the pillows, Yuuta hovering above you with soft wisps of his hair tickling the sides of your face.
You knew you could trust Yuuta, he always knows what his baby needs.
Delicate fingers graze across your side until they reach the waist band of your bottoms, running back and forth along the top as Yuuta chuckles softly at the way your stomach twitches, waiting for a sign of permission.
A warm hand tugging Yuuta’s in the direction of your heat is all he needs before sliding his hand between your thighs to rub heavy and slow circles onto your clit beneath your shorts.
“Oh, god.” You breathe out and close your eyes, letting him take his time in making you feel good.
Your hole ached every time he dipped a finger down to tease your entrance, gathering more of your arousal to rub into your puffy clit. He was such a tease even when he didn’t mean to be, couldn’t he tell you needed him inside? Can’t he imagine how empty your poor hole feels? Doesn’t he know how often you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers or favorite toy, imagining it’s really him inside instead?
“Yuuta.”
The desperate call of his name makes his stomach flip, eyes quickly searching across your face for a sign of discomfort, “‘M here baby, what do you need?”
Sitting up slowly, your face stops inches from his as you shimmy your way out of your bottoms. Laying back down, you open your legs wide and spread your pussy for Yuuta to see, another hand rubbing at your clit slowly.
“‘S too empty, baby.” You fight back the hot wave of embarrassment that floods your body at your crudeness and use all your will power to stay still, cunt on full display, as you watch Yuuta’s breath quicken and his hand snake down to tug at his cock again despite the slight sensitivity he’s still feeling.
He doesn’t give you much time to linger on your sheepishness before you’re tugged further down the bed by the grip he takes on both of your thighs, his tongue impatiently shoved into your mouth with a loud whimper. You both stay like this a little while longer than you would have liked, his tongue running along the inside of your mouth before he has yours between his lips, switching between sucking on it loudly and licking at the saliva that drips down onto your chin.
God, he was so dirty.
Unable to beg for more, you attempt to wrap your legs up and around his midsection, hoping he’ll catch the hint, but instead you’re stopped by a firm placement of his hand on your inner thigh.
“‘Scuse me, beautiful.” His voice is hoarser than before as he speaks softly against your neck, leaving hasty kisses on any exposed skin while scooting down the bed, landing with his face between your legs.
You could have cried when you felt his tongue poke and prod at your hole, pushing in and moaning loudly before licking long and slow up to your clit. His tongue flicks back and forth as he keeps your lips spread with one hand, deciding to then take his time licking and dragging his tongue between every fold before coming back to suck on your clit.
A strangled groan vibrates deep within your chest as you tug on his hair to bring him impossibly closer to your cunt, as if he needed to devour you whole, while you no longer fought the way your hips were grinding down and writhing beneath Yuuta’s grip. It’s not until you finally feel a finger push inside, slender and slow, that you begin to incoherently beg and whine for more.
It doesn’t take many half-spoken pleas for him to get the idea you need more.
“Ah, Yuuta!” You whimper and internally battle between trying to squirm away and press yourself even further into his mouth, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his two fingers inside pumping in and out of you with his mouth nipping and sucking at your clit.
He sits up, kneeling between you to watch the way you take what he’s giving you.
“Yeah?”, his voice is uncharacteristically cocky and out of breath, “Feels good, baby?”
He was going to be the death of you.
If it wasn’t for the way Yuuta was placed between your thighs, your efforts to clamp them shut would be working. It was all too much, but so fucking good.
“Ah- fuck, oh, oh my god - Yuuta please make me come. Wanna come so bad!” You arch your back and attempt to sit up to reach him, needing him closer, but a hand on your chest pushes you back down and slides up until it rests wrapped around your throat.
“Mmm, I’ll give it to you baby, just want you stay right there. Wanna see what you look like when I make you finish for the first time.” His hand wasn’t holding tight, it was merely keeping you in your spot beneath him, but you wanted him to grab you tighter.
With a shaky hand, you reached to hold onto his wrist like your life depended on it,
“Please choke me.”
His fingers stopped curling into you for maybe a second before he continued, his mouth parting slightly as a gentle moan fell from his lips.
Did you really just ask him that?
You closed your eyes in bliss when he squeezed gently, instinctually doing your best to grind down onto his hand, but it wasn’t enough.
“T-tighter, please.”
It took everything in you to open your eyes and see his reaction, a slight amount of shame building up in your stomach for requesting something that felt so dirty - but all embarrassment fizzled out where it sat when you saw the way he was staring down at you.
Nothing was said as he squeezed you tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Tap me twice if it’s too much.” You’re not sure when he leaned down to speak lowly to you, but his breath fanning across the side of your neck and face sends chills down your body.
You’re so lost in the pleasure of it all you can only nod when he takes your hand to show you exactly how he wants you to tap against his wrist if you can’t take it anymore.
He sits back up and smiles to himself as he takes you in. You look so.. so.. so pathetic like this. And what, all because he’s got two of his fingers fucking your pussy? Cause he’s the first person to ever make you feel this way?
The latter thought makes his dick twitch and pick up the pace of his fingers until even you can register the crude squelching coming from between your thighs. Thankfully for you, you’re too full of bliss to care - fuck you were so close, and he knows it, too.
Your eyes shoot open when his grip is tightened even more, making it so you can only take in shallow and shaky breaths.
“Gonna have to come around my fingers if you want me to loosen up.” It wasn’t a question of how much you could take, it was a matter of how far you wanted him to go to make you see stars. And apparently this was it with the way he could feel you clench around him at his words, your thighs starting to thrash and shake.
“Fuck, you’re so dirty. My dirty little cunt, huh?” His voice was so misleadingly soft. His register was still high, slightly whiny, but you knew it was all to mock you and your fucked out state. If anything, Yuuta was the one being so dirty, and you were thankful for it.
It was hot, so hot, and you could hear your heart pounding in your head, and you could feel how tight you were clenching around his fingers.
Unable to fight off the feeling and attempt to last a second longer, your body shook as you came hard around Yuuta’s fingers, your nails digging into the forearm of the hand still wrapped around your throat. He kept it there for a brief few moments into your orgasm before letting go to immediately bring his fingers down to your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm for as long as you could handle.
The first full breath you took was loud and followed by an even louder mantra of thank you’s and please’s. It took a soft and slow kiss from Yuuta to quiet your whimpers, and warm, and undeniably semi-sticky hands, rubbing tenderly into your thighs and arms.
You both stayed like that for a while, Yuuta above you with his hands rubbing your muscles carefully, kissing slow and catching your breath while sharing gentle sentiments of love and reassurance. Much to your surprise, you were the first to speak a full sentence as you both relaxed into a more comfortable position.
“Ya know”, your voice had a slight hoarseness to it now, most likely from your earlier activities, “I don’t think I like knowing someone else has gotten to see you like this.”
He brings his head up to rest on his palm with a crooked smile, leaning forward until his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke,
“Yeah? You the jealous type baby?”
This time, you did smack him. And hard.
“Ow?” Yuuta pouts, pretending to be appalled, and rubs circles into his chest as if you had actually smacked him hard enough to feel like anything more than a friendly pat.
His request for an apology is brushed off and amended with a kiss, from which you receive no protest, as you sink further into the comfort of his embrace and, now dirty but once very clean, sheets.
“How about we clean up n get some rest, okay baby?” He sounds distant and quiet when he speaks, his heartbeat louder in your ears than his voice with your head pressed into his chest.
Sighing and shaking his head, he leans down to kiss the top of your head with a small smile. Laundry and a shower can wait a few more minutes if it means he gets to have you like this for even a little bit longer.
——————
taglist: @plutowrites @alert-arlert (I think you asked to be tagged in this??? If not I’m sorry !! This was like a literal year ago I started this so 😭🫶) @touyaz (only cause you liked the snippet 🤭) if you’d like to be added just lemme know!!
#tw choking#tw breath play#jjk smut#yuuta x reader#yuuta smut#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta x you#yuuta x y/n#yuuta okkotsu smut
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korra cuddles?? i just KNOW this girl cannot keep her hands off
OH, you couldn't be more right, she loves physical contact. okay, let's go!!
♡ — The way you love ; Korra
resume: where Korra seem to love having her hands on you.
content warning: fluff ; established relationship ; a shorter os ; comfort ; no use of y/n ; I think this count as headcanons too ?? idk, I'll let u decide that
wc: 1.1k
I just can't leave you alone, can we get even closer.ᐣ
If Korra was a bit handsy while you two were just friends, once the relationship was official: she was all on you.
The southerner was not farther than 3 steps from you at any time. Hanging out? She was beside you with her arm resting on you shoulders, going on a mission? She needed to have her hand intertwined with yours while walking, training? She was the one attacking, Korra practiced one–on–one fights with you as an excuse to be on top of you or vice-versa. The only time she couldn't be in contact with you was while fighting, but sometimes she was able to manage an defense attack where she would have you near and you'll help her.
It was safe to say that Korra's love language was physical touch.
In her words: she liked feeling your touch, it made her feel safe and grounded.
That exact moment was an excellent example; after a pretty rough training on defense tactics, you threw yourself on the ground to catch up your breath.
“I think I still have earth you threw at me in my mouth.” you said to the avatar, she giggled funnily.
She made her way to you, kneeling beside your body first before laying at your side while hugging you by the waist, she rested her head in your chest.
“I may have boosted myself a little bit.” Korra responded back at you. You felt sticky with sweat all over your body, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she even snuggled more with you, having one leg tangled with yours while closing her eyes to rest for a moment.
Your nearest hand made its way to your girlfriend's hair, leaving caresses while you also closed your eyes. Your heart was still pounding in your chest after such intense training and you knew Korra could hear it at that time. And she loved it, hearing your heartbeat and your breathing made her feel at home, as if in the world there was only the two of you.
At one point, she felt your breathing become slower while your hand stood in one place. You've fallen asleep on the floor with your girlfriend in your arms, she smiled big, but didn't move, she wanted to stayed with you for a bit more time before Tenzin made his way to you both and burst the bubble surrounding you.
But if you were honest, she wasn't the only one in the relationship who loved physical touch. You also loved how she would hug you without you asking for it, her arms made you feel like nothing bad would happen ever again while snuggling into her to feel the heat she emanated.
Such at nights like those where the whole group was hanging out in the city.
The moon was at the top of the sky shining beautifully, soaking all five of you in her light. Sitting at a bench, Mako and Asami where so immersed in a conversation with Bolin playing alongside Pabu on their other side and you were trembling a little bit while talking to Korra standing next to the railing that separated you from the water.
She saw you shake a bit and laugh shortly. “Come here, babe.” she said opening her arms, you didn't say anything and took the last step to let the girl hug you completely. Her warmth made you stop shaking, allowing you to sigh relief. “You look cute when you're shaking, haven't I told you that already?”
“Shut up.” you whispered on her neck once your head found rest on her shoulder.
And your friends where already used to having you two hugging all the time. When Korra and you started your friendship, it was usual to see you have contact with the avatar. Maybe having one of her hands between yours or seating so close to her your shoulders would be brushing each other, so they didn't flinch at the small gestures you had with each other.
“What about going to the beach?” you said to everyone. Korra made you sit on her lap while her arms were hugging your waist and her chin rested on your shoulder. “Us, Tenzin's kids, Kai and Opal... Maybe Wu?”
“I could work on my tan.” Mako said with fun, agreeing to your idea. Asami nodded to him like saying 'me too'.
“Oh! Yes! We can make a sandcastle competition.” Bolin exclaimed so happily to the scenario he was making on his head.
“I will totally beat you.” Korra showed off, Asami laughed.
“I want to see that!” the earthbender defend himself, smiling big, clearly both of them so decided to win.
But Korra's favorite time of the day had to be at night, at either your room or hers. In the silence of the night, it was finally only both of you, talking about trivialities, if you were separated for the day both of you would tell the other how it went or just stayed in silence in the bed.
Neither of those where the activities happening in your apartment.
After putting on your pijama you were quick to grab the book on your side of the bed and open it. Korra was getting herself ready still when you were finishing the chapter you left off.
“My turn to have your attention.” you heard the brunette's voice on her side of the bed, with caution she took the book from your hands and marked the page you were in before leaving it back on the nightstand.
You let her take the book away, looking at her with fun. Once free, her hands made their way to your waist, pulling you as close as humanly possible to her.
One of her hands sneaked into you shirt, making you jump a little bit at the change of temperature, getting use to her warmth a second later.
Without saying a word her lips met yours in a soft kiss, there wasn't really any second intention on her gesture other than feeling your fuzzy sweet lips on hers. Her free hand also found its way to make contact with your skin; without any problem she guided your body to hers, making you sit on her lap all without breaking the kiss.
“Can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” your voice murmured on her lips when you felt how her hands move once again, but now to you thighs that were on each side of her body.
“Not if I wanted to, you're too perfect.” she said back, moving her head a bit desperate to feel your lips on hers again.
#the legend of korra#the legend of korra x reader#avatar korra#korra fluff#korra x reader#korra fanfic#korra x fem!reader#korra x you#one shot#request
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FAMILY WITHIN | KAZ BREKKER
Summary: You have a crush on Kaz, and Jesper and Nina have taken it as their mission to get you two together - and maybe the first step succeeds.
You had never been one to believe in love at first sight. But Kaz Brekker changed that view, as the man pretty much stole your heart like a thief he was the moment you had first talked with him. It was foolish to fall for a man like him, you knew that - but you really couldn’t help it.
And after some weeks of drooling after him, you had ended up confiding about your feelings to Nina who had picked up your heartbeat and told you that. And Jesper had of course overheard it too. At first, they had been surprised about it and then tried to not talk about it and that lasted for months, and you knew it was because they knew it’s highly unlikely Kaz would ever develop feelings for you too. Even though Kaz always joined you for breakfast, asked you to help him with planning heists and all that. But lately, Kaz had stopped joining you on the breakfast table and also insisted he no longer needed you for planning heists, and somehow Jesper and Nina both had been on you, pestering you into talking to Kaz about something else than work. They had presented you a ridiculous idea - about Kaz liking you back and avoiding you because he tries to suppress his feelings.
“What would I even say to him? ‘Hey Kaz! It’s a beautiful day! Customers love our drinks! Come join me to a cup of coffee!’” you mock-cheerfully said, swinging your head as you did, and then rolled your eyes, your shoulders slumping. “He’d look at me weird and then steer the discussion to somewhere else. Somewhere else being, in other words, work.”
“Well…” Jesper squinted his other eye, the corner of his lips going up. “You could… tell him that you’ve noticed him avoiding you outside work and asking if there’s a reason. And then proceed hinting you have feelings for him. You shouldn’t tell him straight up about your feelings, but-”
You scoffed, cutting your friend off. “Oh Jesper, wow, a great idea!” you exclaimed, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “But I’d rather die. Honestly you guys, you think Kaz would ever love me back? No. He avoids me because he thinks I’m annoying.”
Nina laid a look at the man sitting little farther away, looking through something. “I wish you would hear his heartbeat when he looks at you. It jumps, every time he sees you. He may be good in hiding his feelings on the outside, but his heartbeat doesn’t lie.”
“And the looks he lays on you, he surely doesn’t do it on purpose, but they scream how he’s crazy about you.” Jesper smirked, glancing at Kaz too.
You sighed, lowering your gaze at your drink, willing yourself not to look at Kaz with them. “Don’t do that,” you mumbled. “Don’t give me false hopes.”
Nina’s smile faded away from that. “Why would I give you false hopes? I would never ridicule you, especially not about matters like this.”
Jesper nodded, taking a sip of his drink before looking at you. “You are one my best friends. You helped me with Wylan, so it’s my turn to help you with Kaz.”
You were quiet for a moment. “Kaz says love is a weakness.”
Jesper shrugged, wrinkling his nose. “Yeah, because he doesn’t want to admit he’s fallen for you.”
You finally risked a glance at Kaz, secretly hoping you’d catch him glance at you too - you could smile softly at him, and see a hint of whether Nina and Jesper were right. But of course he didn’t. His eyes were glued on the parchment in front of him.
Nina’s hand grabbed your shoulder as she leaned close to your ear. “Go to him. Offer your help.”
You swallowed, trying to tell your feet to get up, to walk to Kaz, see how he reacts if you actually went to him, sat across from him - started to speak with him.
You shook your head. “I- I can’t.”
Nina sighed, standing up. “If you won’t, I’ll go tell him myself.”
Your gaze snapped at Nina that instant, grabbing her arm. “You wouldn’t.”
She smirked. “If that’s the only way to get the train leave the station, then yes, I would. I’m tired of watching you two drooling at each other.”
You stood up as well then, smoothing out your trousers and shirt, feeling your face heat up in a rapid pace. “Right. Okay. I’ll go.”
Nina and Jesper shared a look of victory, and you turned around, taking in a deep breath as you made your way to Kaz. He looked up to you when you approached, holding his gaze for a second before dropping it back down at the parchment - which you now saw being a blueprint.
“Another heist?” you asked, maybe a little too briskly and then pursed your lips. “Um, can I sit here?”
Kaz glanced up to you again, sighing before dropping it back on the parchment. “Why?”
“Bored. Jesper and Nina are talking about their love lives, and um, I felt lonely so- no no, that came out wrong, I don’t mean–” your heartbeat quickened up again and your face heated up even more. “Um, I mean, I saw you sitting here and thought that… it’s nice to sit with my boss sometimes?”
You wanted to slap yourself for being so awkward and grimaced at yourself when Kaz wasn’t looking. He paused for a moment, before nodding just slightly. You sat down across from him, trying to shift yourself so you wouldn’t look suspicious before you dropped your eyes on the parchment, inspecting it for a moment. “Van der Velden manor?”
Kaz frowned, looking up at you again. “You know it?”
A soft smile spread on your lips, remembering your childhood. “There used to be a playground nearby. We always played there with my friends as children, the old housekeeping lady was always shouting at us over the fence to keep our voice down. We weren’t even that loud,” you snorted and then paused for a moment. “Is there something special to snatch?”
Kaz squinted his eyes at you for a moment, before he nodded slowly. “An artefact came in a couple of weeks ago. Priceless, they call it. It’s a jewelry set called ‘Wonder of the Sea’. It’s worth looking into.”
You nodded, laying your hands on the table as you leaned forward to inspect the blueprint more carefully. You bit your lip, tapping your fingers against the wood, squeezing your eyes shut. Then you slowly looked up, forcing your eyes open. “Kaz?”
“Hm?”
“Why have you avoided me?”
He paused, but not lifting his gaze from the blueprint. You could almost see wheels turning in his head. Then he continued tracing his finger along the hallway. “I haven’t avoided you.”
Of course he said that.
“Um, okay. It’s just that, we used to eat breakfast together and sit together til late night looking through blueprints. And now, suddenly, you have said you no longer have time for breakfast and you also don’t need my help. I just… it doesn’t feel likely that these two things changed so suddenly and I’d like to know if… I did something or if there’s–” you swallowed. “If there’s anything… else?”
Kaz paused again for a few seconds. “What else would there be?”
You mulled over your words. You knew you wouldn’t be able to ask if he has feelings for you this early on, nor you could confess your feelings for him, but you didn’t know how else would you reply to his question. So instead, you left the question unanswered and you sat in silence for a good fifteen minutes, only listening to the noise the Crow Club provided.
Then you spoke again. “Why have you started to come down here to work?”
“Change of scenery.”
“A quiet office switched to noisy club area?”
“I’m not working here on game nights. And it’s easier to keep customers on check if they know I’ll see when they misbehave.”
You fell silent for a minute again, before you mumbled, maybe without thinking it through, “I heard you’re only working down here when I’m here.”
“Nothing more than a coincidence.”
Of course not.
“Kaz, I… I want you to know that I’ll always be grateful that you took me in to the Dregs. I’ve found a family here.” Within you, you wanted to add, but knew it’d be too bold.
Kaz’s dark eyes flickered up to meet yours again, and this time he held his gaze for longer than last time. You offered him a soft smile, before he turned to look at the blueprint again. You then stood up, going back to Nina and Jesper, who were immediately asking about how it went. But you didn’t even know how it had went - the discussion had given mixed signals. Nina assured you that Kaz’s heartbeat jumped every time you spoke to him - and you really hoped it’s true.
—
Mornings in Ketterdam weren’t pretty. There wasn’t sunlight and only birds singing were crows. So it wasn’t easy to wake up, but you forced yourself to get out of the bed anyway - sleeping in could result in being late from breakfast, and since lunch was often very late, you didn’t want to miss it.
You dressed up and made your way downstairs, stretching and yawning as you went, and once at kitchen, you set the table with a loaf of bread and butter and went to take a cup from the cupboard. Then you heard a click from behind you, and got startled slightly, turning around with wide eyes to see Kaz standing there. You let out a chuckle of relief, clutching your heart.
“Kaz, you scared me,” you breathed out. “Um, did you need anything?”
He just looked over at the little table. “I supposed I could have some breakfast.”
You stared at him for a moment, before realising that the talk you had had yesterday maybe had some effect on him, and you couldn’t help but grin, nodding and taking another cup from the cupboard.
And so you sat at the breakfast table together for the first time in weeks, and even though you didn’t really talk, you felt like this could develop into something more over time…
Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x you#kaz brekker x y/n#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone#sab#sab x reader#sab imagine#six of crows imagine#six of crows fanfic#six of crows#grishaverse#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse imagine#reader insert#gn reader#my works
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