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meracyn · 5 months ago

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heyyy could u write a one shot of kwon x reader where they weren't able to see each other for months (reader travelled to a different country and he had to go to the tournament) but reader finally had the chance to go to the sekai taikai and surprises him? maybe suggestive ;) But fluff is ok too, thank youn!

UNSPOKEN DESIRES || kwon jae-sung

a/n: LMAOOO SNEAKY ANON but yk what ill do it (hes too fine). crazy how i wrote the bf hcs of him yesterday and now i got 3 reqs lmao, not complaining tho. also i want to find good icons to put on my kwon reqs but I CANT CHOOSE,,

warnings; SUGGESTIVE, cursing (only like..once), uhh thats all i think

Kwon stood up along with the rest of the Cobra Kai members, barely paying attention to the announcements being said at the moment— too deep in thought— thoughts of you.

The past few months were hard. Not just for him, for you too. You had to travel to another country for a while due to a family emergency regarding a very ill relative. Although you both facetimed and texted everyday, the distance was still there. It wasn’t the same.

The Sekai Taikai was able to get Kwon to focus on the tournament, but even so it wasn’t enough. His mind kept drifting off to you. He never thought your absence would affect him that much, but ever since you told him you had to stay there longer, he felt the ache in his chest deepen with each passing day. He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, but he missed you. A lot.

As everyone was allowed to leave, Kwon let out a sigh, head tilted a bit low as he walked with the rest of his dojo. What was up with him? He won every match he had, why did it not fuel him up with satisfaction anymore? Even messing around with other dojos wasn’t becoming as fun. It frustrated him.

“Hey, wanna go with us to a bar nearby later?” Yoon went up to him, slightly nudging his shoulder with his elbow.

Kwon snapped out of his thoughts, and stopped walking. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, he could forget about the emptiness in his heart. “..Sure, why not. I could use some distraction.” He replied. Without saying anything else, he walked away.

· · ·

You let out a sigh of relief after managing to get inside the building where the tournament was being held. You may or may not have lied your way in by saying you were one of Cobra Kai’s backups and Sensei Kim requested you come here as an emergency.

Those at the desk were a bit skeptical, but thankfully didn’t question any further and let you pass.

You walked past the big hallways, trying to think where the rooms were, thinking he was probably resting. You couldn’t wait to see him again— his eyes, his hair, that stupid yet charming smirk he had on his face.

Suddenly, you passed by a teenage guy scrolling through his phone. Maybe he knew Kwon, it was worth asking.

“Uh..excuse me,” You started, a bit nervous as you walked up to him. “Do you know the room number Kwon Jae-Sung is staying in?”

Demetri looked up, an eyebrow raised at the..random question. Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one didn’t cross his mind. He glanced around the room, noticing how it was only you and him. “I don’t think..I can give out that information.” He replied.

“Oh, no. It’s not like that—” You said quickly. “I’m his partner. I wanted to see if he’s okay.”

“Partner?” Demetri repeated. “As in, sparring partner? Then you should kn—”

“No!” You exclaimed, interrupting him. You cleared your throat before continuing, “I meant..I’m his partner..romantically.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Demetri said, before nodding slightly. He leaned in to whisper the room number, then sat back down. “I’m sure he’s doing very fine.. but that’s the number.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Relief washed over you, as you quickly left, going to the elevators.

Demetri watched as you left, before his eyes widened. “Wait. What if they’re not his partner?”

· · ·

Kwon got out of the elevator, laughing along with his team members who were all drunk and held onto each other for support.

Being at the bar did help him be distracted for a while, drinking along while the rest were doing bets on who could drink the most without getting drunk at all.

“Hey, why don’t we go out again for some more fun? It isn’t too late,” One of them suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Let’s go,— Kwon, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. You guys go ahead.” He said. The others left, leaving him alone.

He opened the door to his room, shutting it behind him and turned on the lock. Walking over to his bed, he began to take off his shirt and draped a towel around his waist. Just as he was going to enter the shower, a finger tapped on his shoulder.

As he turned around, he was taken by surprise.

You were standing there, with a mischievous smile.

How did you get in his room? Was he dreaming? Was he too tired after training? Did he drink too much? Did he—

“I got you~!” You said with a chuckle.

He couldn’t feel his heartbeat— he couldn’t believe it. You were here, in front of him. After months of longing, of only talking through a screen, you were standing right there, your bodies’ mere inches away from the other. Without thinking, he closed the distance between you two, pulling you into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he mumbled into your hair, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, feeling the warmth of your body against his.

You laughed softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze, “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Yeah..and you did,” He replied. “but now that you’re here..” His eyes trailed over your body up and down, voice low. The tension built between you both was obvious, the look in his eyes said it.

His lips twitched into a smirk, pulling you close to him again, “Tell me my love, did you miss me a lot?” He asked, in a teasing yet flirtatious tone.

“Maybe, who knows?” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Want to find out?”

Kwon didn’t reply, his lips crashing on yours as his hands instinctively held onto your waist. The kiss deepened, hinting at the need that every inch of his body begged for. It was obvious to you—he wanted more.

Your fingers went up his chest, your other hand pulling him even closer to you–if that was possible.

He pulled away for a second, as your eyes met. His dark eyes were full of lust, but also shone with a hint of mischief. Before you knew it, Kwon leaned in again, kissing your jaw and trailing down to your collarbone. Removing a hand that was on your hip, he held onto your leg, lifting it up as you curled it around his waist.

Kwon kept kissing your body, the sounds that left your lips only fueling his desire. He had your back pressed against the wall, and began to take off your shirt.

“Fuck..” He silently cursed to himself as he looked up to see your expression— cheeks red as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Looking like a mess, how cute. And just for me, right?”

You nodded frantically, wanting him to stop teasing and continue.

Knowing you were desperate, Kwon chuckled. “Don’t worry love, after so many months apart, I’m not done with you just yet.”

HELP I FEEL SO EMBARRASSED I FEEL LIKE I DID SO BAD ON THIS 💀 well it was definitely interesting to do lol..time to work on those other requests now

#cobra kai #kwon x reader #kwon jae sung x reader #kwon jae sung #uh..would it count as a bit of smut lmao #kwon jae sung x female reader #kwon jae sung x male reader #ck #kwon jae sung x gn! reader #gotta give the bros some fics too #SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE SUGGESTIVE ALERT #once again #suggestive #oneshot #meracyn #idk how i feel abt this lmao #THE TITLE SOUNDS SO SMUTTY #might re edit 💀

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petertingle-yipyip · 10 months ago

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BECAUSE OF YOU - KAZ BREKKER

Pairing: kaz brekker x reader

Word Count: 3,741

Summary: Getting through to Kaz Brekker is damn near impossible. One night after a seemingly rough run-in, something brings out a confession in you both. //follow-up//

You’d been in the Dregs for what felt like your whole life. Practically born into it. You always said they raised you, taught you, but that didn’t mean Per Haskell wasn’t going to get his piece. You had a contract with the Barrel boss as soon as you could read and write. That didn’t mean you understood what any of it meant when you signed.

So when you stood in his office, money in your bag to get out of it, it suddenly didn’t feel right. Maybe it was because of your loyalty to the Dregs. They were all you ever had and the tattoo seemed to burn as you thought of leaving. Or maybe it was because it wasn’t Per Haskell in that seat.

“What business?” Kaz asked without sparing you much of a glance.

His voice snapped you from your daze but your mouth felt dry. You swallowed and had to refrain from reaching for your bag. The hardest part of being a thief was the patting of your pockets to ensure you had what you needed. You always felt you had forgotten something so you needed that checklist sometimes.

It makes you an easy mark. Kaz always scolded you. He would tap your hand with the crow’s head of his cane when you started to make the move whenever you two went on jobs. But it didn’t stop him from bringing you with him whenever the Wraith wasn’t available.

“Y/N?” He asked after an extended silence.

You finally met his eyes and he stared intently. You adjusted your bag and dared a step deeper into the office so the door closed behind you.

“I had a deal with Per Haskell.” You began, trying to control your voice, but the way his expression shifted from annoyance to scrutiny told you that you hadn’t. “It was to end my contract. I hope you’ll honor it.”

“Hmm.” He lifted a brow and flipped through some papers, the material of his gloves gliding easily across the thin materials. You used to wonder how he could do everything with the gloves, especially his sleights, but it was one of many mysteries of Kaz Brekker. One of his allures, you supposed. “A fair deal?”

“No.” You smirked slightly. “The old man was desperate when it came to finding you so he took the short stick so I’d help him.”

He tossed your paperwork on the desk and his elbows rested on the surface. He folded his gloved hands and watched intently as you came closer.

“An opportunity you’d be stupid not to take advantage of.” He said simply, as if it was a fact.

You looked down at the papers, your young and messy signature. You saw the scratched out words and numbers, their replacements added with Per Haskell’s initials. You were still surprised that you had worked it out with him.

“I didn’t help him.” You added. He had to have known, even if Inej didn’t tell him. He always knew everything as far as you could tell, or he had a very educated guess at least. “Whenever he asked me to look somewhere I just wandered around.”

“Is that sentiment I hear?” He teased and you glared at him. “If you want out, you can have it. I have no intention of forcing you to stay if you have your own means.”

“Well aware, thank you.” You answered sharply. Did you want him to ask you to stay? Your brain was telling you to do something. Move closer, reach out to him, check your money. But you put a hand over the tattoo under your sleeve instead while you looked back to your contract. “Just seems unreal.” You finally settled on.

“I need a lieutenant, if you’d like reason to stay.” He offered and your eyes snapped back to him. He leaned back in his chair and offered a small shrug. The move was almost defensive, like he’d been caught. “Who else would you suggest I pick?”

“Inej would’ve been your best option.” It was your turn to shrug. “I’d need a new contract.”

“Close out that one and we’ll draw it up.”

“Kaz.”

“Yes?”

You said nothing. The hesitancy had to show in your face because he seemed to soften, a miniscule difference that you’d only notice if you knew to pay attention. And you always paid attention to Kaz.

“I’ll give you a fair deal, Y/N. You’ve earned that much, more than that even.” He said honestly. You felt the flush of your cheeks and stood at the edge of the desk. From there, you could see that his bad leg was stretched out beneath the desk and the crow-topped cane was against the desk beside him. “The choice is yours.”

“I…” You sighed, giving in to the idea and slipping your hand in your bag to your bundle of money.

Kaz smirked and you frowned, knowing you were caught.

“Still?” His brows raised. “Who’s going to rob you here?”

“You. In fact, I’m sure you have at least once.” You deadpanned and then broke into a smile. He nearly returned it. “Your lieutenant, huh?”

“If that’s what you wish.”

“Is that what you wish?”

He stood, leaning a hand against the desk as he came around to stand in front of you. You took an automatic step back. It was drilled into you that Kaz needed his space. You had once put a hand on his arm when you stumbled, your finger just barely finding the small gap between his jacket sleeve and his glove, and he jerked away from you so quick you had almost fallen again. The glare he pinned you with was so intense you kept your eyes down for the rest of the day.

“You…” He let out a deep sigh and his hands flexed. “You are more important here than you know.”

“I’m sure the others can pick up the jobs without me.”

“I don’t mean for jobs.”

“Right…” You nodded slowly before pulling out the stack of money. You held it by the end, pushing your hand forward so he could take it. “It’s all there but feel free to count.”

“I trust you.” He nodded and reached forward.

Gloves fingers grazed yours and you were quick to withdraw your hand. You watched his face for a reaction to the touch but nothing happened. He continued with his movements as if nothing happened, grabbing the contract and skimming it, while you were stiff as a board awaiting his reprimand. When he began to thumb through the money, you relaxed.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad if he initiated the contact. Another mystery.

He split the stack into two uneven portions and handed you the bigger of the two while he dropped the smaller stop the paperwork. Your brows furrowed and you took a small step back.

“What are you-“ You began but he shook his head and silently closed the distance. He grabbed your wrist and put the money in your hand. You had to clench your jaw to keep it from falling open.

“As I said, you’ve earned this.” He said pointedly. He seemed more focused on the words he said than anything else. “I’ll send Haskell his cut and that’ll be that.”

“He’ll be furious.” You reasoned. “He’ll come for me.”

“He won’t.” Kaz insisted, keeping his eyes on yours. “After what happened here, he wouldn’t dare show his face.”

“That doesn’t mean I’d be safe.”

“It’s Ketterdam. No where’s safe.” He shook his head, hands slipping from yours. You almost missed the feeling of his gloves. “At least here, you’ll have people who care about what happens to you.” He leaned onto the desk behind him.

“You mean Jesper and Nina.” You answered, burying the sadness that rose when you knew he likely didn’t include himself in that.

“Everyone here will watch your back, Y/N. As I’ve said, your presence matters here.”

“Will you?” You asked before you could think the question through. “Watch my back, that is.”

“Haven’t I always?”

“You call me a pigeon whenever you can.” You deadpanned again.

“Then stop patting your pockets when we’re on a job.” He retorted and it almost sounded playful.

“I tried!” You exclaimed and threw your hands forward. “I can’t help the dread that I’ve forgotten something.”

The cursed expression that bordered a smile and smirk crossed his features. His arms came across his chest and he leaned closer to you. “What do you say then?”

You chewed your lower lip in thought. You had no real plan as to what to do when you left so would staying be that bad? And it was Kaz asking you to stay, after all. Not Jesper or Nina, not even Inej. Kaz.

“The deal is the deal.” You nodded and he smirked proudly.

That interaction had been years ago. You signed on as Kaz’s lieutenant and you two had been working together in the time since. Inej came through occasionally and when she did, Kaz left you in charge. It was always a bit of a sting when he went off to spend a few days with her, but she was his first love. You knew that much, whether the stubborn bastard would admit it or not.

You also came to learn that Kaz had an overall aversion to physical touch. He admitted to you one night when you two were alone, staking out some target for some heist he had planned. You made an off-hand comment about the gloves or the coat even in summertime and he gave a brief, almost strangled reason. He didn’t say when it started or why it started, just that he’d rather die.

However, you noticed you had won small victories. With a barrier, of course. He offered you his hand to get up from your seat or to climb up or over something. If you two were assuming the role of a couple, he let you put your arm through his. His hand would rest featherlight against your back when you two passed through tight quarters so you wouldn’t be separated. He once even let you put your head on his shoulder when you were holed up in a small room late into the night while you waited for the stadwatch to pass.

Now, you were in his office waiting for his return. Usually you did your work in your own room, but since there were no upcoming jobs, you simply sat in the velvet lounge chair you had convinced him to leave there for you and read a book. It was a fascinating story of demon-hunting nephilim. You were flipping the page quickly and the door slammed open.

You jumped and let the book fall from your hands, flying to your feet. You rested a hand at the knife strapped to your thigh but let out a sigh of relief when it was only Kaz.

“Saints, Kaz.” You laughed in relief. You looked over at him and noticed he had a hand tucked under his jacket and a clench to his jaw that was tighter than usual. “Are you alright?” You asked carefully, daring a step closer.

He stepped in and leaned against the wall, knocking his cane against the door so it would slam shut. With the new privacy, he let the cane clatter to the floor and panted heavily. You were at his side quickly and reached forward to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Kaz?” You tried but he refused to look at you. You took in a quick scan of his injuries. His usually carefully combed hair was aggressively disheveled and falling into his eyes, a dried stream of blood across his chin, a dribbling line from somewhere above his eyebrow. “Go sit and I’ll get my kit.”

He shook his head and you weren’t sure if he was denying the chair or your help, or simply trying to shake off whatever was rattling around in his head. You groaned slightly and grabbed his jacket sleeve. You carefully put his arm over your shoulders and tucked yourself into his side, opposite of the one he clutched tightly. You moved quickly enough that he couldn’t shove you away but you still figured the move would get you in his bad graces.

You spared a glance and saw the dark liquid staining the already dark fabric. You shook your head slightly and began to drag the man across the room. His posture was rigid, his limp more prominent, and you knew you’d get an earful for grabbing onto him but he gave you no choice. You didn’t want to risk him collapsing to the floor or waiting for him to move on his own.

“I’m sorry.” You confessed as you ducked out from under his arm and helped him into the chair. “Just… I didn’t want you to bleed out over there.”

You couldn’t find other words so you left. You hurried to your own room for your kit and practically sprinted back to his office. You locked the door behind you, knowing Kaz would hate for anyone to see him in a vulnerable state. Except for you, it seemed. He trusted you just enough to let you see some of that. Not all of it, you could tell, but enough.

“Can you move your hand?” You asked and you knelt at the side of the chair. You didn’t dare to kneel in front of him.

He winced and moved his hand, which allowed no better view. You reached forward and flicked the material of jacket away, but the fabric of his shirt was already stuck to the wound.

“You’ll have to take your shirt and jacket off.” You said, trying to maintain composure. “The material’s stuck to it. I can’t see anything… Or at least unbutton them.”

Asking Kaz to sit shirtless in front of you was a huge deal. He had his touch aversion, and you respected that, but it bordered on being too intimate. He tensed at your request but his eyes met yours in question. It wasn’t whether or not you were sure. He knew as well as any Dreg that you had the best handiwork when it came to wounds, Grisha aside of course, so if you asked for something like that, it was necessary. The question was more for himself, if he could handle it.

You dropped your eyes to your kit instead. You knew you had to let him come to a decision on his own so you prepped your materials instead. Clean strips of fabric to clean the wound, a sturdy thread looped through a skinny needle, long cloths for bandaging, and a pair of gloves. You slipped your hands into the rubber and flexed your fingers to ensure they fit. The material stuck to your damp skin and you realized your hands were clammy.

You looked back at him cautiously and saw he had unbuttoned his shirt, only moving the side with the wound out of the way. He took a deep breath and held it for a second. You knew you should wait until he said something but judging by the tightness in his jaw, he wouldn’t be saying anything anytime soon. He breathed out and you saw the smallest of nods, squeezing his eyes tightly shut.

You reached in carefully, pushing the fabric aside a little further to see the wound. You kept it to the side with one hand and grabbed for the fabric strips with the other. You angled your arm to keep his open shirt back and touched your fingers to his side. His head snapped towards you so fast you feared he’d get whiplash. You could feel his stare in you but you refused to look at him, focusing on clearing the blood for a better view of the wound.

“Snagged a box from a clinic delivery.” You explained. “Had to relearn some things like stitches but I figured…”

“Why?” He asked and the single word seemed to scrape at his throat. Whether it was from the situation or the fight he came from, you weren’t going to ask.

‘Because of you’ you wanted to say. Because you wanted to touch him without triggering a panic attack. Because it was the least you do to show you cared.

“Would you let me do this without them? Besides, it’s cleaner this way…” You shrugged. “If you can pick locks and do sleights with yours, I could learn this. Trust me, it’s nothing.”

“It’s everything.” He nearly whispered.

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” You tried to keep him talking, hoping it’d keep him distracted so he wouldn’t jolt away from you.

You had the wound clean by then and knew it’d scar, but a few quick stitches would be easy enough.

“No.”

“Okay.”

You swapped the fabric for the needle.

“This’ll sting.” You warned and sat up on your knees for a better angle. You looked up at him for an answer and his eyes were surprisingly softer than you’d ever seen them. “Are you alright?”

You two stared at each other for a moment longer and you recognized what it was. Appreciation.

“Other than that?” His chin dipped towards the slice on his side.

You chuckled slightly and shook your head before turning your focus to the stitches. You had to move relatively slower than usual. It was the first time you had done stitches on a body with gloves. You practiced on your blankets or your clothes. Truthfully, Kaz was the only reason you learned with the gloves.

You could feel him watching your hands. Maybe he was just admiring your intentful movements. Maybe he was thinking about the gloves, thankful for the barrier between his skin and yours. Regardless, he said nothing and neither did you.

When you were done, you swapped again for the longer strip. You offered it to Kaz first.

“Do you want to do it? If you wrap it, I can tie it.”

“No, you can…” He trailed off.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Can you stand?”

He pushed himself up with a grimace. You collected your material and stood, waiting for him to shrug his shirt down his arms. You put one end on the wound and took his hand to hold it in place. You made sure to walk around instead of reaching to maintain his space. When you got to the end, you looped it under one of the layers and tied it in a knot. You tucked the knot and ran a gloved hand over the material quickly to ensure it hadn’t gotten twisted.

“What about your head?” You took a step back. “Does it hurt?”

“Y/N…” He said quietly. Your head cocked in quiet interest and he took your hand in his.

He peeled your glove off, his remaining in place, and held your hand loosely in his. One barrier instead of two, clearly making a difference to him. Your brows furrowed but you bit your tongue to keep any comments to yourself. You feared if you acknowledged it, it would end. He took another deep breath and winced. Whether from the wound or the situation, you didn’t dare ask.

You reached your other gloved hand up and carefully pushed his hair away. You saw the cut on his forehead and frowned slightly.

“It doesn’t need stitches but I could at least clean it.” You offered. “Make sure you’re presentable again.”

He snorted a small laugh, a tight-lipped momentarily smile grazing his lips.

“Presentable… Without a shirt?”

That was your preferred view but you did wonder if Kaz knew that. Did Kaz know that you thought about him in ways you shouldn’t? That you waited to know he was back when you didn’t go with him? That you relearned your techniques with gloves to meet him somewhere in the middle? That you sat in that corner chair, reading a book while he worked, just to be near him?

Did Kaz know you loved him?

“Did you hit your head?” You asked, flicking your gaze to either of his eyes to try and gauge his awareness. “You may be concussed.”

“No, I’m…” He began but his brows furrowed in thought for a moment. “Well, yes, I did, but that’s not- It doesn’t-“ He sighed.

“Just sit down.” You shook your head and gently pushed on his shoulder. He obliged, but there was a hint of a pout on his face.

Kaz Brekker didn’t pout. What was going on with him?

You stood in front of him this time after gathering your materials. You kept them in your ungloved hand and only made contact with him using the covered one. You didn’t dare push or intrude any further than you already had. You cleaned the wound easily enough, but those damn eyes were still wide as they stared at you.

“Are you sure your head’s alright?” You quirked a brow and knelt down in front of him.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not when…”

“Kaz, I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” You sighed and crossed your arms over your upraised knee. “I don’t speak in half sentences.”

“Thank you.” He said instead and your eyes went wide.

“You’re welcome.” You answered carefully. “And I’m sorry I had to push my luck tonight. I had to make sure you’d be alright.”

“The way life goes around here.” He reasoned, forcing a casual tone.

“It’s different.” You muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ll just be thankful you don’t send someone to kill me.” You said instead.

“Not you. Never you.”

“Oh…”

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you.” He blurted, as if there was an unseen clock ticking down.

“Okay?”

“I…” He closed his eyes and cursed quietly.

“I love you.” You said quickly without thinking. Your mouth dropped and you smacked your ungloved hand to it. “OhmygodIdidnotjustsaythat.” You mumbled against your own skin.

Kaz’s eyes were wide with shock before he gathered his wits and smiled at you.

A real, honest smile.

Your cheeks burned and you could feel your stomach tightening. You dropped your eyes and scooted away to collect the rest of your kit instead.

“Y/N?” He was leaning over the arm of the chair.

“Kaz?” You answered but your voice was embarrassingly high pitched. If your hands were empty, you would’ve smacked yourself in the forehead.

“I loved you first.”

#kaz brekker #kaz dirtyhands brekker #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #ck #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x fem!reader #soc fic #soc fanfiction #soc fanfic #six of crows fanfic #six of crows fic #six of crows x reader #six of crows x you

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redvelvetthief · 3 months ago

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Kaz keeps asking Inej "what would you like?" "What do you want?" "Can I get you anything?" It's strange, and she doesn't understand it. She always says that she doesn't want anything, that she's pleased with what she has.

Kaz has always given Inej little gifts here and there - her first knife, silk ties for her hair, the occasional hot chocolate when the weather grows cold. But lately, he's been especially insistent on trying to give bigger gifts. More expensive gifts. She finds them every time she comes back to Kerch after months at sea - a brand new silver knife set, authentic Suli silks, sometimes he even resorts to leaving her stacks of kruge. He asks her if she wants something specific from time to time but she always says no.

Inej thinks it's nice at first, albeit strange, but after the third time that she finds an "allowance" left in an envelope on her bed, she starts to get angry. That anger grows after talking with Nina about it. Nina further emphasizes how offensive it is that Kaz thinks he can just buy Inej's affection through silly gifts. How could he possibly think it would be a good idea to get her Suli silks considering she was forced to wear cheap knock-offs of them at the Menagerie? Even Jesper is confused by it, asking what Inej might've done recently that would cause this increase in generosity from Kaz. He tries to joke with her and says he probably gives gifts like this all the time but that just serves to make Inej feel upset and hurt. She starts ignoring Kaz and lashing out at him, so he stops. He stops the gifts altogether. But with that, he grows distant from her. Cold. Like how he was before their trip to the ice court.

But then, she talks to Wylan. And Wylan can't help but laugh.

He explains that Kaz is showing Inej that he cares and loves her in the only way he knows how. That this is the Kerch way. Gift-giving.

He explains that Ravkan people tend to show affection through words of affirmation, considering their intense connection to literature, history, and story-telling. Meanwhile, Fjerdans express their love through quality time because of their deeply communal and duty-driven society. The Zemeni provide acts of service with their strong emphasis on hospitality and helping others. Suli culture values movement, presence, and closeness, making physical touch a natural expression of love.

But the Kerch? The Kerch show affection through gift-giving. The more thoughtful the gift, the greater the love. And every time Kaz asks Inej "what would you like?" and she says "nothing" it makes him feel useless, like he can't show her how he truly feels about her. Wylan explains that only makes sense that Inej would be upset about the gestures. Considering the Suli's nomadic and down-to-earth lifestyle, they tend to reject most material items, only choosing to carry the essentials with them.

Inej is speechless by the end of Wylan's explanation. All this time, and she never realized that she was practically telling Kaz to not care about her. To not love her. But it'll be fine. She knows exactly how to fix this. Rushing out of the Van Eck mansion, she stops at the most luxurious leather shop in all of Ketterdam, and she picks out a pair of beautiful, hand-crafted leather gloves. They cost a fortune but it's nothing she can't spare for him - the one who strives to give her everything.

When she presents the gift to him, Kaz barely reacts, and she fears that the misunderstanding may be far worse than she thought. But when Kaz slips the gloves on his hands, flexing his fingers with the barest hint of a smile on his face, and he softly says, "thank you," Inej knows everything will be fine. Needless to say, Inej never rejects a single gift from Kaz.

#oh this was way longer than i expected it to be #idk how that happened #but yeah this is part of a fic i'm writing for them and i wanted to share the hc #kanej #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #soc #six of crows #crooked kingdom #ck #six of crows headcanon

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kamiversee · 1 year ago

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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 44 || The Question at the End

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, heartwarmingly filthy smut (includes choking), fluff, & a ticklish tinge of angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.7k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU WEREN’T PREPARED FOR the man that is Nanami Kento. Nope, nothing could mentally ready you for the way he eases his cock into you for what felt like hours on end, making you lose all sense of thought as he forces you to feel each and every inch and vein that decorates his member.

You don’t remember anything from when he was finger fucking you in his vehicle to now as your legs are pressed up against your chest with Nanami’s hands roughly squeezing onto the plush underside of your thighs while he stuffs you full of his girthy length.

“Fuuuck,” Nanami groaned, his hair disheveled and his eyes lustful and low-lidded as he gazed down at the flushed fucked out expression on your face. “You’re-, shit… you’re milking my cock, darling… hah, squeezing me so damn tight,”

Through the course of the list, you’ve experienced all kinds of sex but nothing quite like this. When Nanami said he fucks rough he wasn’t referring to his pace, instead, he was referring to the filth that leaves his lips and the stretch of his dick squeezing into you. It’s more of a buildup to that roughness he was referring to and you liked every second of that.

He’s a confident man, he knows how women react to his size. And as for you? Oh you felt like a virgin trying to take him in at first. Thank god for the car ride that consisted of him fingering you because you quickly realized how necessary that was.

Not only was that helpful but Nanami’s sexy voice was in your ear as he eased himself into you. He spoke so softly, so kindly, his tone laced in honey with how sweet it was as each word went straight to your core and only made his entry more slippery.

He hadn’t tied you up just yet, he’d revisit that idea later.

As he initially entered you, those soft lips of his were against your ear, saying things like, “Shhh, I know it’s big but you can take it, right?”

To which your nails would scrape against his back and your jaw would fall, leaving your mouth open with obscene moans leaving you, “I c-can’t-, f-fuuuck… ohmygod…” You whined and whined, to which he only went slower.

You’re not sure if it helped for him to go slower or if you just wanted him to thrust the rest in but either way, you were struggling.

“C’mon, that’s it, I’m almost-,” He grunts heavily, his warm breath hitting your skin, “A-Almost all the way in. You’re doing so good f’me, such a good girl aren’t you?”

You nodded weakly. He was halfway in but you couldn’t really tell. Your legs wrapped around his large muscular body and god he was a big man. His build was so damn perfect over you and his gentleness just made you melt beneath him.

“Uh-huh…” You babbled out to the man.

Nanami shifted down to the area right below your jaw and kissed you passionately before whispering to you, “You’re taking me so well, love.”

Yep, your walls suddenly clamp around his cock and Nanami lets out a moan against you.

“Kento,” You squeaked out, a whimper following his name as each inch of him was buried inside you, “You’re s’deep,” You slurred out.

Nanami nods, “Mhmm, I know… Here,” He moves a hand to grab your arm and you feel his fingers slip along your palm before they interlace with your own, squeezing your delicate hand in his own, “Hold on to me, I’ll make sure you feel good soon, okay?”

The sex was so soft and light that it had you utterly flustered. You didn’t even know what to do with yourself in a situation like this. Nanami moved so that his face was over your own and his eyes gazed so deeply into yours while he held your hand to comfort you through his hefty size.

His hips begin to draw back and you hiss when he then presses himself down into you again, the tip of his cock simply mushing into that tear-jerking spot inside you. Your delicate fingers squeeze onto his hand for dear life as Nanami works up a steady and simple pace. You were breathing so heavily and your eyes were hardly open.

Your jaw remained slack as soft moans poured from your moist lips, “M-Mmmgh… Kento,” You called, voice breathy.

The man tilts his head at you, his brows furrowed as he tries not to lose himself in the way your cunt just sucks him right back in each time he draws himself out, “Hm?” He inches his face to yours, “What is it, pretty? Talk to me.” He requested, and damn the way his voice was just as breathy as yours.

The whole situation was so hot, heavy, and intimate, far more intimate than you were expecting it to be. Your eyes dipped down to his lips and you felt his hands move your thighs farther apart before his chest pressed against yours.

“K-Kiss me,” You breathed.

Nanami chuckles, just barely, “Is that how you ask?” He groaned out slightly, his cock stretching you open as he voices his words to you.

You bite your lower lip for a moment to stifle the next whine that threatened to escape before turning your head to the side and uttering a desperate, “Please?”

The man moved his lips to your cheek, then slid over to your ear, “Look at me first,” He instructed.

Just before you get the chance to do so, his hand suddenly weighs into yours and you feel your fingers dip into the mattress a bit as Nanami holds himself up using your clasped hands. Then, his free hand comes up to your face, specifically your chin, and forces your head to turn to him.

Pleasureful tears are welling up in your eyes and you feel so embarrassed as you look at him. Nanami gives you this comforting small smile and your heart flutters like crazy.

“Please kiss me,” You say softly.

Nanami inclines himself down to you just a bit more, his warm lips brushing over your own, “Beg some more f’me,” He grunts, and you feel his dick sliding out of you a bit more than before, and he thrusts right back in moments later.

That was when things started to shift. “Please?” You’re so quick to follow his words, almost without a second thought.

He frowns to mock you, “So cute. Say it again.”

“P-Please?” You moaned this time, feeling his thick inches knock into you a bit harder than before, making you choke on air for a moment.

Then, your cunt simply floods around his cock when Nanami pushes his lips to yours, groaning out a very low and very sexy, “Good girl.”

Your lashes fluttered as your eyes closed and the kiss with Nanami was slow and firm, wet and plump lips slipping over one another before your tongues connected sloppily as his pace picked up.

You got so unintentionally loud, moaning against Nanami with little to no control over the sounds escaping your lips. His name left you like a damn mantra with the way he begins to, slowly, yet roughly drive his girthy cock into your squelching cunt.

Sounds of sex filled the air, loud as it always was, yet your moaning was slightly downed out by Nanami’s deep and guttural groans. That, along with the lewd sounds of your pussy just slobbering around his shaft.

Nanami’s lips pried from yours at some point and your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his dick simply clobbered into your gummy walls, the wet slap of his thick base to your cunt echoing throughout the room.

“You’re one perverted girl, y’know that?” Nanami suddenly pointed out as he pushed himself up a bit. His hand releases yours and the man sits back on his heels, placing those large hands of his to your upper thighs and then giving your body a tug.

A pornographic moan is ripped from your throat as his cock is felt impossibly deeper inside you. The slight change in positioning made Nanami penetrate so much further inside you, your pussy squeezing around the man ridiculously tight as he ups his thrusts.

Your entire body twitches when his thumb is felt at your clit, rolling such slow but painfully pleasurable circles around the sensitive but.

“M-My god-,” You gasp, your back arching off the bed, “M’gonna cum, s-shit… K-Kento-,”

“Mhm,” Nanami hums, biting his lip for a moment at the sight of your breasts jerking forward with his each thrust, “I knoww,” He coos, “Cum on my cock, lemme’ feel it, darling.”

The harsh smack of his pelvis to yours as he fucked his length into you filled your ears. You couldn’t think for a moment, couldn’t see, drool was dripping down out of the corner of your mouth, and his name rolled off your tongue more times than could be counted as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your legs tried to close around him but his free hand prevented that action as it was placed on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. Instinctively, your hand reaches down to where his thumb was driving you over the edge and you try stopping the touch, overstimulation clouding your mind.

“C’monn, don’t push me away, pretty girl,” Nanami hushes out.

His voice made the entire thing so much worse. And he knew it too, he could feel how your cunt twitches and clamps around his already slick member, knowing his tone and words made you wetter than you were.

Your hands continue to try and move his hands away from your clit, wanting just a second to try and collect yourself. That was when Nanami decided now was a good time to revisit his thoughts from earlier.

There was a previously disregarded tie lying idly on his bed not too far from the two of you. One hand remains on your clit, driving you absolutely insane as his other hand reached for the tie.

You didn’t even realize what was happening until the pressure from your clit was suddenly lifted and your hands were brought together. You let out a filthy cry of pleasure as Nanami leans his muscular body over yours, pinning your hands up and above your head.

He shakes his head at your expression and his hips just don’t stop pounding his hefty cock into you, the bed beginning to rock with his each thrust. “Kinky woman you are.” He comments, “You probably wanted this to happen, huh? S’that why you were being so disobedient?”

A slight smile pulls at the corner of your lips, the sight not going unnoticed even through your fucked out expression. “M-Maybe, ah, fuuck…” You moaned out, “B-But, haah… y-you’re the one who-, m-mmmh… wanted t-to tie me up, aagnh-, a-anyways…” You get out, your words slurred and broken due to his heavy balls slapping against your skin as he bottomed you out.

You felt a fabric wrapping around your wrists, the feeling of being restricted completely foreign to you.

Nanami scoffs and his ability to fuck you and tie your hands up at the same time genuinely amuses you. “Oh? Someone’s quite talkative now,” He teases, clearly mocking how just a few minutes ago the most you could get out was his name.

You bite your lip hard for a second, trying to keep a whimper in whilst Nanami’s hand squeezes around your tied wrists, pinning you down to the bed while he begins rolling his hips down into yours, again making you really feel his every inch and vein.

“Ha-ahh… fuck, s-shut up,” You babble out.

Nanami cocks a brow at you, “I’d love to see you try and make me.” He tests, leaning down so that his lips ghost your own, “Shut me up, go on-,”

His words cut off suddenly as you purposefully close your walls around him, using what little strength you have in you to do so. The man moans at the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock so suddenly, completely eating his words to you.

You flash a lustful smile at him, “Mgh… You were saying?” Your words are still breathy but even so, your confidence turned the man on like crazy.

Nanami bites his bottom lip and then scoffs, “Do that again ‘nd see what happens,” He challenges.

And who were you to not accept said challenge? Again, you clench around Nanami’s dick but this time, you’re all too quickly put in your place.

He lets go of your pinned hands, pulling the tie from you as he leans up and tosses his head back with an almost annoyed groan. “I had no plans on actually fucking you like a slut but,” He rolls his head back into place and meets your eyes for only a moment, “Seems’ like a brat like you needs to be put in her place.”

The tie that’d been around your wrist is brought up to the man’s mouth as he holds it there while moving. Your body is rapidly manhandled and Nanami pulls out of you for just a moment to flip you over. He then lifts your hips and forces your back into an arch.

After which, you moan loudly into the mattress as he thrusts his cock back into you. Then, your wrists are taken into his hold again, quickly crossed over one another behind your back, and then tied together.

And if that wasn’t enough, once your hands are firmly tied together, Nanami reaches over for something you don’t see. You don’t get a chance to mentally process the way he takes his belt and moves it to loop around your neck, using that to tug your head up from the mattress as his hips beat into your ass.

Your eyes widened, air and your voice left your throat completely, and you felt so stupidly cockdrunk in what felt like seconds. Your hands were tied behind your back, and the upper half of your body was forced up by a belt that wasn’t pulling you too tight but tight enough for you to have zero control.

“K-Kento, f-fu-uck… p-please-,” You whimpered as you felt his massive tip just pound into your sweet spot, making your eyes cross in lust.

Nanami scoffs and tugs you back enough so that he can speak into your ear, “Please what?” He grunts, “I thought you wanted me to shut up?”

His voice is so damn low now, almost lower than before? It’s husked in arousal and you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

“M’sorry,” You whine, “Ohfuck, f-fuck… Kento, mmmh… m’cumming, s-shit-,” It came so unexpectedly, your release coating his member in a messy slick as he fucked you from behind.

He chuckled suddenly and your eyes rolled back when he suddenly moved his free hand to shove two fingers into your mouth, “Give it to me, love,” He whispered so sweetly despite his hips crashing into yours so angrily.

Your jaw just fell and his fingers dove deeper into your mouth, drool and spit leaking out your mouth as you moaned and groaned around his thick digits. Your entire body spasmed and twitched as instead of just experiencing an orgasm, a different, but familiar, sensation takes over and you squirt unexpectedly.

Nanami groaned deeply against your ear, “Fuuuuck… You-, mgh… hah, messed’ up my sheets, pretty girl,” He points out, as if the fabric wasn’t long since soiled since he brought you into the bedroom.

You couldn’t respond to him. Your legs were shaking, an airy whine was leaving your lips, your throat trembled as the sound left you, and your eyes squeezed shut. Nanami let up on you after that.

His fingers leave your mouth, you choke out a staggered exhale, and his hand releases the belt, allowing your body to go forward and limp in front of him. His hands then find comfort on your hips and his thrusting slows only a bit to give you a moment's rest.

You’re moaning weakly into the sheets and your tied hands are trying to reach back and feel the man. Nanami, feeling pity for you, grabs ahold of one of your hands as he continues to stroke your insides juust right.

“Did’ so good for me, darling.” He praises, “So fuckin’ good.” His words left him in pants and you could tell you weren’t the only one feeling drained.

You found the strange sense of comfort wash over your body whilst he slowed his thrusts but kept holding your hand. While his thrusts grew slower, they also grew harder. Slow and harsh jerks of his hips into your ass just made you so dumb, his well-defined pelvis felt clashing into your ass over and over and over.

His stamina was top-notch, something you could hardly keep up with anymore.

“K-Kento… mmmh… s-so-, oh… s’deep…” You mumbled into the bed, missing the way he smiles softly at your fucked out state.

Nanami shrugs a bit, “Could’ go deeper if you want.”

You shook your head no amusingly fast. “N-No, you’re… aah… you’re de-eep enough…” Your words were coming out in broken moans and a tear slipped out of your eye as you simply took what he gave you.

The man chuckled, “Uhuh, I bet I am…” He mocked.

You wish you would have argued with that but your brain was too fuzzy with lust, arousal, and satisfaction that you couldn’t think straight.

Nanami took his other hand that wasn’t holding yours and placed it on your ass, spreading you apart slightly so he could get a good look at the mess you’ve made of his cock. The sight was like no other, it made his breath hitch.

“Shit,” Nanami cursed, “Such a messy girl…” He points out, then tosses his head back as he feels you pulse around his shaft. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep-“

You move slowly, with the last of your energy to force your hips back to meet his heavy thrusts. Then, you turn your head and meet Nanami’s gaze.

Good lord that man was sexy. He was sweaty, his eyes were so low and clouded in this dazed stupor, lips parted with pants leaving him, and his abs were so clearly tensed.

His thrusting slowed and slowed until he came to a half-stop, watching the way you fucked yourself back on him. Nanami lets out a grunt, then a groan, like a really deep pussy-throbbing groan that let you know he was close. That, and you felt him grasp onto your hand tighter, his mouth shutting as he grits his teeth and furrowed his brows.

Even fucked out, if there’s one thing you still knew how to do, it was how to have lazy sex (Choso was to thank that for that). You rolled your hips as you continued your movements, feeling his cock glide in and out of you so smoothly.

Nanami lets out a moan and then suddenly grabs onto your hips, quickly pushing you so that his member slipped out of you before allowing himself to cum on your ass.

Somewhere deep deep down inside, you wished he came inside you but, you knew you needed to start being more careful. You’ve had sex with too many men to simply let the majority of them cum inside you. In the chance that you were to get pregnant, you wouldn’t want to have to go through the stress of figuring out whose it is.

That thought aside, Nanami was quick to untie your wrists and then lean his body over yours. You pushed yourself up just barely using your elbows so that your faces could meet and it seemed like you both had the same thing in mind, moving to share a sweet and sensual kiss.

You felt as the bed dipped a bit on your left side, Nanami’s right hand going to caress your obviously tired body as he kissed you.

When he pulls away, his eyes are gentle on yours, “You did so good for me,” He whispers.

Those words make you smile sleepily, “Did I?” You murmur back to the man.

He nods, “Mhm,” He then gives you another peck, “Now that that’s done,” Nanami shifts to kiss your forehead and then leans away from you, “Let me clean you up.”

In no world would you have been allowed to protest against that as Nanami was quick to move to act on his words.

In terms of aftercare, you think you’ve experienced the best of the best but… Nanami is just…

Well, you’re not sure any of the men you’ve dealt with have not only given you a bath but also massaged your feet as if they were a damn professional. Then, if that wasn’t enough, Nanami didn’t even allow you to lift a finger for the remainder of the night.

He asked if you wanted to stay or if you wanted him to take you home and after you settled on the first option, Nanami not only insisted that you sleep in his bed but also made sure you were completely taken care of.

Before allowing you to drift off to sleep, he offered you tea, meds, and even food-- all of which you sleepily denied, telling him you’d be fine until the morning. He then insisted that you take at least one of the offered items, to which you settled on the tea.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Nanami was such a caring man. Perhaps in another life…

No, you’ve got enough drama on your own. You don’t need to add a third man to that list-

Speaking of lists…

That’s…

That’s it.

It’s over. The list of people Gojo Satoru blackmailed you into seducing to clear his debt is complete.

As this information renders to you, you are now sitting up in Nanami’s large bed, the man sitting not too far from you flicking through channels on the big flatscreen TV as you sipped on the tea he’d given you.

After today… You could just run to Choso.

Or…

Or Gojo.

You blink at your own thoughts.

Or Gojo? What the hell? Since when was he an option? Despite you being conflicted, thinking about running to either of them to live some kind of happily ever after makes your heart feel all fluttery.

You sit back a bit, resting against the pillows behind you and you drink more of the given tea. Then, a sudden thought sparks.

“Kento,” You call, your voice as delicate as ever.

He finds some channel and when you look over to him, you notice he’s wearing reading glasses. He really is stupidly attractive without trying.

Nanami turns to you, “Yes? Everything okay?”

You grin, “Mhm, everything’s fine. I just uhm…” You swallow, “Can I ask you something.”

His eyes spark in curiosity, “Of course.”

You glance away from him, “Uh, you know who Gojo is, right?” Why did your question come out so dumb? You don’t know, you’re tired and you wanted to see if you could get even the slightest answer about that debt of his.

Nanami quirks a brow, “Gojo, as in, Gojo Satoru? Gojo the walking headache Satoru?” He grumbles.

You giggle, “Yeah, him.”

“Yes, I know him, why?” The blond asks.

You let out a sigh. There’s no reason you can’t ask Nanami about the debt right? With that thought, you look at him, “Does he owe you anything?” You ask vaguely.

Obviously, you know the answer to that since Gojo said he’s in debt-

“Owe me anything?” Nanami echoes in a confused manner, “Like what?”

Think, think, think, think-, “I mean like, does he owe you any favors?” You manage out.

“Why?” The blond deflects.

It was odd he didn’t answer the question just yet. Was he hiding something or was he truly confused?

“W-Well, Satoru owes me something so I was curious if he uh, owed things to a lot of people,” Yep, that came straight out of your ass.

You’ve gotten way too good at lying. Choso might not like that-

“No,” Nanami says.

Silence followed his answer.

No? Your brows furrowed and you chuckled, “No? No, what?” You murmured, acting as though you were questioning.

“You asked if he owed me anything, right?” Nanami shrugs, “The answer is no, Gojo doesn’t owe me anything. But I’m not surprised someone like him owes you something,” He jokes.

You just blink.

Did you hear all that correctly?

What…

What the hell does that mean??

If Gojo doesn’t owe Nanami anything, why the fuck did you just sleep with him? Well, it’s not like you regret it or anything, the sex was great but…

What the fuck is going on??

Nanami suddenly snaps his fingers, “You alright?”

You blink out of your thoughts, “Y-Yeah. So wait,” You return to your questions, “Satoru’s not in debt with you or anything?” You ask, receiving a confused stare from Nanami. To make yourself not seem weird, you quickly add on, “L-Like he is with me?”

Nanami laughs a bit, “I’m afraid not. I wouldn’t even allow Gojo to owe me anything, he’d never pay it back knowing him. Even so, is everything okay with you and him? Do you need help getting him to pay the debt he owes you-“

“N-No,” You unintentionally cut off, “Sorry, thanks for offering to help but uhm,” You turn your head to face forward, losing yourself in deep thought, “I’m fine. I’ll uh, figure things out with him myself.”

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment and then he brushes the topic off, turning back to the TV.

You, on the other hand, have never been this damn confused in your life. Why… Why would Gojo make you sleep with Nanami if he doesn’t owe him anything?

What if… What if Gojo really is just an asshole after all? What if you just forgot who the hell that man was?

You must have.

Yeah, you forgot. This is the same man who’s threatened you numerous times. You’ve been blinded. You forgot why Gojo really said he was doing this to you.

Forget the debt of his.

Forget those stupid and bullshit lies of him claiming to love you.

Fuck his stupid ass tears and confessions.

Screw this damn diamond necklace that still lay around your neck at this very moment.

Fuck Gojo Satoru.

That’s the same man who said from the very beginning…

He only started the list, because he was bored. How’d you forget? To him, it was all just a fucking game, remember?

‘And what better entertainment than watching Shoko's roomie get slut-shamed by the whole school?’ You forgot about that.

Your heart caves in your chest and you feel this twisted and burning feeling well up inside you. Before you settle on hating Gojo again, you want clear and direct answers.

R-Right?

Shit. You can’t stop the flashing and haunted memories of his sobbing. Why would he cry like that if this was all just a game to him? Does he just regret it that bad? Did he want you to feel sorry for him?

Shit. You hate this. You want to cry and scream at the same time.

Replaying his soft words makes your heart ache. No matter what happens, even through death, my heart will always beat for you.

But then, replaying his other words brings anger to your veins. I want the whole school to see what a fucking slut you are.

So…

Which statement is the real Gojo? Which words poured from his lips hold the truth?

Does he actually love you or… have you just been a pawn in his fucked up little game all this time? A piece to his twisted puzzle? Or, the missing fragment to his fractured heart?

What is it that you symbolize in the eyes of Gojo Satoru?

Now that the list is over, you’re left with two final options.

A. Demand Gojo to explain himself even though the chances of that being successful are slim to none.

Or;

B. Forget Gojo, free your mind, & run to the man who’s freakishly devoted to you; Choso Kamo.

The choice was yours.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

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extinctlesspains · 4 months ago

Note

can we get some Christmas kwon fics??

𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑅𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒. 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑜’𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑎��𝑡𝑦. 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑢𝑝 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑜𝑒. 𝐵𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑟𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑖𝑡 𝑜𝑓𝑓, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑘𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡, 𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔!!

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△▼△

The dojo was abuzz with holiday spirit as the teams came together to decorate for the annual Christmas party. The rivalry between Cobra Kai and Miyagi-Do had been set aside for the season, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t tension. You glanced across the room at Kwon , who was meticulously untangling a strand of Christmas lights with an almost comical level of intensity.

“He always takes things so seriously,” you muttered under your breath, trying to hide a smile.

Tory nudged you with her elbow, smirking knowingly. “What, still pretending you don’t have a thing for him?”

“I don’t!” you hissed, cheeks heating up. “We’re just… teammates.”

Tory snorted. “Sure. Just teammates who can’t stop staring at each other.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on your own task: hanging garlands along the walls. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Kwon. He looked so out of place amidst the festive chaos, his usual stern demeanor clashing with the twinkling lights and cheerful music.

“Y/n, can you help me with this?” His deep voice startled you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, uh, sure!” You hurried over to him, your heart racing as he held out the tangled mess of lights.

“These are impossible,” he muttered, a rare hint of frustration in his tone.

You laughed softly. “You just need to be patient. Here, let me show you.” Your hands brushed his as you took the lights, and you felt a spark that made your breath catch.

Kwon didn’t pull away, but he didn’t say anything either. He just watched you intently, his dark eyes unreadable.

“You’re good at this,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than usual.

“It’s just untangling lights,” you teased, trying to ignore the way his gaze made your cheeks burn.

“No,” he said quietly. “I mean… you’re good at making things easier.”

You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. Before you could respond, Tory called out, “Hey, lovebirds! Stop flirting and get back to work!”

“We’re not—” you started, but she just laughed and walked away. Kwon cleared his throat, looking as flustered as you felt.

“Let’s just hang these up,” he mumbled, turning toward the nearest wall.

The two of you worked in silence, but the tension lingered, thick and unspoken. When you finished, you stepped back to admire your work, only to realize you were standing directly beneath a sprig of mistletoe.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“What?” Kwon followed your gaze, his eyes widening as he spotted the offending greenery. “Is that… mistletoe?”

“Y-yeah.” You laughed nervously, taking a step back, but Kwon stayed rooted in place, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sounds of laughter and holiday music faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

“You know the tradition, right?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he… joking? Kwon Jae-sung, the stoic, no-nonsense fighter, actually teasing you?

“Yeah, but we don’t have to—”

Before you could finish, Kwon took a step closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “Maybe we should.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his hand brushing against yours. The world seemed to slow down as his lips hovered just a breath away from yours.

But then, at the last second, he hesitated. “Unless you don’t want to,” he murmured, his usual confidence faltering.

“I…” You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “I do.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Kwon closed the gap, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and electrifying. You felt his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer as the rest of the world faded away.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless. Kwon’s cheeks were flushed, and for the first time, you saw a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“That was…” he started, but then Tory’s voice cut through the moment.

“About time!” she called, grinning from across the room.

You groaned, burying your face in Kwon’s chest as he let out a rare laugh.

“Guess we’re not hiding this anymore,” he said, his tone surprisingly light.

“Guess not,” you muttered, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face.

#cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #karate kid #karatekidxreader #kwon cobra kai #kwon jae sung #kwon jae sung x reader #kwon #ck kwon jaesung #ck kwon #ckxreader #ck #christmas #christmas fic #ck fanfic

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eclipsedechoesofmywords · 7 months ago

Note

kaz brekker x reader where reader is hurt and kaz helps tend to her wound and then he tells her how much he loves her and it’s soft and super fluffy

"Comfort in Chaos"

[Kaz Brekker x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: After a reckless adventure leaves you injured, Kaz Brekker takes a moment to care for you.

Warnings: injury, fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 580 words

A/N: hi!!! so the reason this took so long was because I was trying to figure out how to write it and still stay true to Kaz's character. I tried my best, so enjoy?

You shifted and winced as the wound pulled. Kaz sat across from you, a concentrated look on his face as he gathered supplies from a small box.

"Stay still," he instructed, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a wince as he carefully cleaned the injury.

"Why do you always get into trouble?" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

"Maybe I like the thrill," you teased, trying to lighten the mood despite the discomfort.

His eyes remained serious. "The thrill doesn’t feel as great when you’re bleeding," he replied, applying the ointment. His touch was surprisingly gentle, as he wrapped the bandage around your arm.

As he worked, silence settled between you. The way he looked at you made your heart race.

"Kaz…" you started, but he hesitated seeing a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. First time for everything.

"I dislike seeing you hurt. You mean more to me than I can say," he said, his voice softening.

You smiled. "I care about you too," you confessed.

Kaz finished wrapping the bandage, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Maybe I should start taking care of myself better," you suggested, "I wouldn’t want to keep you from your… important plans."

He scoffed. "Plans can wait. You’re more important than any job I have." his tone was dismissive, but his words were sincere.

"What if I got better at dodging trouble? Would that impress you?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. "You’d have to do better than that. You’re too reckless for your own good."

"Kaz, I know what I’m doing. I wouldn’t put myself in danger if I didn’t think I could handle it."

"Right. And yet, here we are," he replied, "Just promise me you’ll try to be more cautious. You are an investment that is difficult to replace."

You snort. "Gee, thanks."

"You’re infuriating, you know that?," he sighed, "But you’re also brave. You challenge me in ways I didn’t think were possible."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good. You should," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because it’s the closest I’ll get to admitting I’m fond of you."

You laughed, the sound light and joyful, as Kaz tried to hide his smirk.

"Then I guess we’ll both have to work on being less infuriating," you teased.

"Or we’ll continue to drive each other mad," he said

"Either way, I’m glad you’re here." You leaned closer, the warmth radiating between you almost palpable.

Kaz’s gaze held yours. "You really mean that, don’t you?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

"Absolutely," you replied, "You make everything—"

"Dangerous?" he interrupted.

"Exciting," you corrected, "Every moment with you feels alive."

He tilted his head, studying you intently. "Alive is one way to put it. Other people might call it reckless."

"Recklessness has its charm," you countered, "Besides, you thrive in chaos. I think you secretly enjoy it."

"Do I?"

"You love it. And me," you said, grinning.

"Love is a strong word."

"Is it?" you shot back.

Kaz raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I just tolerate you because you're entertaining."

"Entertaining, huh? I’ll take it," you replied.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You’re incorrigible."

"And you’re impossible," you shot back, "But that’s what makes us work."

"Just promise me you’ll be careful," he said, his tone suddenly serious.

"Only if you promise to keep looking out for me."

"Deal," he replied.

You both shared a moment of silence, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, you broke it, teasing, "So, when are we getting into trouble next?"

"With you? I can’t imagine it’ll be long."

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soangelbaby · 17 days ago

Text

˒ pervert!clark nsfw alphabet ˓ sexual + dark content ahead ݄ 18+ minors dni .

ෆ a ≽ addiction ; perv!clark . . . doesn’t just want you—he needs you. he craves your everything; smell, touch, sounds, it all consumes him. each time you’re near him, it’s like he’s hit a high, never wanting to come down, and when you’re away? it’s like a painful withdrawal. he’ll do whatever to feed his need for you, constantly needing to be close, keeping you right under him. he’s hooked—desperate and dependent on your affection, and if he doesn’t get it, he’ll spiral, even if it means crossing the boundaries of what’s normal.

ෆ b ≽ begging ; perv!clark . . . is so used to being in control, but when it comes to you, something inside him just breaks. when you beg, when you finally let go of that pride and just need him—its like a switch goes off and he’s completely hooked. one little whimper of ‘please’ or his name, its a powerful thing for him, dragging it out, becoming addicted to the sound of your desperation. the way your voice cracks, how your words come out in gasps, or even a breathless whisper, it makes him harder than he’s ever been.

ෆ c ≽ cum ; perv!clark . . . is possessive about his cum. he wants it inside you, wants to fill you up so much that you feel it for hours. but if you won’t let him? he’ll settle for painting your stomach, your thighs, anywhere that marks you as his. pulling out just to smear it over your chest, your stomach, your thighs. he wants to see you coated in him. painted. ruined. and then take pictures—mental snapshots, because he doesn’t need a camera. his memory is perfect. he’ll jerk off to the image of you dripping hours later, thinking about how you looked ruined, eyes hazy, lips parted. but if he’s desperate enough, he might even cum in your clothes before you wear them, knowing that his scent is all over you and you don’t even realize it.

ෆ d ≽ dirty secret ; perv!clark . . . has stolen things from you. not just small things—intimate things. panties (clean or dirty), shirts, used towels, anything that holds your scent. he keeps them hidden in his room, in a place even his mother wouldn’t find. and when he’s alone? he presses his face into them, fisting his cock while groaning your name, desperate, frantic, whispering how much he needs you. he’s also definitely jacked off while watching you sleep—standing over your bed, panting, his hand moving slow as he imagines how easy it would be to climb in beside you and take what he wants. or even in it, next to you while you’re sleeping, he tells himself he’ll just watch, just breathe you in. but then his hand is down his sweats, stroking himself to the soft rise and fall of your chest, biting his lip to keep quiet as he spills into his palm, onto your linen, leaving his mark.

ෆ e ≽ experience ; perv!clark . . . is inexperienced, such a weirdo and such a nerd, but his obsession with you makes up for it. he’s been watching, listening, learning—waiting. he knows what makes you shiver, what parts of your body you touch more when you’re turned on, what makes you squirm. the first time he gets his hands on you, it’s overwhelming—he’s desperate, greedy, and he won’t stop until you’re completely wrecked under him. he’s like an animal barely holding himself back, overwhelmed, obsessed. and after he’s had you? he’s insatiable. he’s learning you in real-time, finding out exactly how to break you apart just so he can put you back together again.

ෆ f ≽ fantasies ; perv!clark . . . has so many twisted thoughts about you. when he’s alone or even with you, just desperate, needy, aching for you, his mind spirals into the darkest places. he imagines taking you while you sleep. slowly, carefully, whispering filthy things in your ear as he fucks you so gently you barely stir. he fantasizes about breaking you in. being your first, your only, your forever. he’d train you to take him, to be the perfect little thing for him. he wants to fuck you until you can’t even speak, until you’re just a whimpering, ruined mess beneath him.

ෆ g ≽ greedy ; perv!clark . . . is so greedy. one orgasm? not enough. three? still not enough. he wants more—needs more—until you’re sobbing, shaking, begging for mercy. and even then, he’s still hungry for you. clark doesn’t just doesn’t make love. he fucks. hard. deep. like he’s trying to ruin you for anyone else, bury himself into you, marking your body and soul. and if you ever so much as talk to another guy? he’ll fuck you so thoroughly that you won’t even remember their name. (or yours)

ෆ h ≽ heat vision ; perv!clark . . . with his heat vision. it isn’t just a power. it’s a tell. a dead giveaway that he’s turned on—and he hates that he can’t control it when it comes to you. the second you walk in the room wearing something short, sheer, or just… looking at him like that, his eyes start glowing faintly red. he tries to keep it subtle, biting the inside of his cheek, shifting in place, clenching his fists—but the burn at the back of his eyes always betrays him. he’ll angle his head down, hiding his face, pretending to rub his eyes like he’s tired. but really, he’s trying not to melt the wall behind you because his gaze keeps slipping to the way your thighs peek out when you cross your legs.

ෆ i ≽ intensity ; perv!clark . . . will be close, so close—his super hearing picking up every little change in your breathing. he can feel your heartbeat quickening, the tension building in your body, the way your muscles tighten and relax. when you’re around him, it’s like he can feel everything you’re feeling, every rush of heat, every flutter of excitement. he knows your body. the way you squirm when you’re close to a climax but can’t reach it. how your breath hitches when you’re just about to beg for more. he thrives on that. the longer he holds you in that space, the more intense it gets for you—and for him.

ෆ j ≽ jerk off ; perv!clark . . . jacks off constantly, and it’s always because of you. he’s got super-speed, which means he can sneak off and get himself off in seconds if he hears you giggling, sees the strap of your bra peeking out, or watches you lick something off your fingers. he can’t help but be consumed by the overwhelming desire to touch himself, to feel the heat of his own body as he imagines you—how you look, how you feel, the sound of your voice when you’re desperate for him. he’s completely wrapped up in you—your scent, the taste of your lips, the idea of your body beneath his. it’s something he’s constantly fighting, but he can’t help but give in. he needs to see you, touch you, own every part of you, and when he finally releases, it’s always with the thought of you in his mind.

ෆ k ≽ kinks ; perv!clark . . . with all of his powers and self-control, finds his desires to be as complex and layered as his persona. when it comes to kinks, his fascination with you goes beyond just physical attraction—it’s about control, exploration, and pushing boundaries that are both thrilling and dangerous. power play ; clark’s obsession with dominance and submission plays out in every interaction. he has the ability to read every tiny shift in your body language, every hesitation, every reaction. he revels in it, taking full control of the situation. but it’s not about being cruel—rather, it’s about owning you in the most intense, raw, and consuming ways. he might give you orders, commanding you to kneel or to do something that has you nervous, but there’s a part of him that gets off on seeing you willingly comply, knowing you trust him completely. tease and denial ; another kink clark indulges in is teasing you. with super speed, he can move so quickly that he’s often just a blur to your eyes, allowing him to touch you, kiss you, and then vanish in a second, leaving you aching and wanting more. he takes his time, drawing things out, pushing you to the edge of desperation and frustration. he’ll deny you pleasure, knowing that the anticipation is just as hot as the release. It’s all about making you crave him, knowing full well that every time he pulls away, it only makes you need him more.

ෆ l ≽ lurk ; perv!clark . . . lurking isn’t about malicious intent; it’s about desire, obsession, and the need to feel connected to you. it’s about being close to you in ways that no one else can. clark can appear and disappear without anyone ever noticing. he often finds himself lurking in the shadows when you’re unaware, observing you from a distance. whether you’re getting dressed, going about your day, or even relaxing at home, clark loves to watch the way you move, the little things you do, and how you react to your environment. he lurks in your bathroom. super speed makes it effortless. when you’re showering—eyes closed, lips parted, hands gliding over your wet skin—he’s leaning against the other side of the wall. jerking himself off to the sound of water trickling down your curves, to the way your breath hitches when your fingers slip just a little too low. he lurks in your room when you’re not home. not just touching things. sniffing them. licking the inside of your favorite shirt, the part that clings to your chest. rubbing his face against your pillow like a fucking animal, grinding into the mattress where you sleep because it still smells like you—sweet, soft, addictive. sometimes, when he can’t take it anymore, he lies right there in your bed and moans your name into the sheets.

ෆ m ≽ marked ; perv!clark . . . it starts subtle. almost innocent. you’ll wake up with sore thighs, faint bruises where his fingertips held you too tight. crescent moon marks on your hips from his teeth. the ghost of his grip around your neck, where he held you still while he moaned into your mouth, lost in how good you felt. then it gets bolder. he’ll smear his cum on your skin—low on your stomach, high on your chest—tracing little shapes with it before he finally lets you clean up. he’ll mutter, “don’t wipe it yet,” voice low, grainy and fucked-out, obsessed, as he watches it drip down your thighs. sometimes he won’t even fuck you. he’ll just jerk off on you. over your tits, your stomach, your ass. and then he’ll smell it on you for hours. he’ll feel it when you walk by, can sense that you’re wearing his release like a secret under your clothes. it drives him insane. he’s left his handprint on your ass more times than you can count. red and raw, the shape of his palm burned into your skin like you’re property.

ෆ n ≽ numb ; perv!clark . . . your thighs? trembling, overstimulated, slick and twitching with every touch. your brain? gone. melted. thoughts scattered into nothing but soft whimpers and clark’s name. your fingers clutching the sheets, your mouth open but no sound coming out—not because you don’t want to moan, but because you can’t. he makes it his mission to get you there. to fuck you dumb, slow or rough, until you’re all hiccuping breaths and glassy eyes. until you’re not even answering him anymore, just nodding and gasping and taking it like a good girl. until your legs are done, shaking and useless—so he picks you up, fucks you standing, on the wall, bent over the sink, again— he uses everything he has: his speed, to drag it out over hours or to fuck into you so fast your body can’t keep up. his strength, to hold you down when you squirm away from overstimulation, when your body tries to run but your mind wants more. his hearing, locked on every sound you make, every change in your breathing so he knows the second you’re close. and his vision, just to watch your body tense, spasm, fall apart beneath him in real-time, no detail missed. and when you’re whimpering, shaking, mumbling ‘please’ or ‘slow down’ or ‘i can’t’—he doesn’t stop.

ෆ o ≽ obsession ; perv!clark . . . doesn’t just want you—he’s consumed by you. you’re not just the girl next door. you’re not just the pretty thing in lace he x-rays when he’s bored. you’re the center of his goddamn universe. his everything. he doesn’t eat unless he knows you’ve eaten first. he won’t sleep unless he’s sure your bedroom light’s off and you’re curled up safe in bed. he gets antsy when you’re gone too long—checking your location, listening for your voice, tracking your heartbeat just to make sure you’re okay. he’s obsessed in ways that aren’t healthy. ways that aren’t normal. he memorizes every outfit, every shade of lipstick, every time you change your sheets. he’ll sniff your laundry before it finishes drying, just to feel close to you. he’ll touch himself to the sound of your footsteps, the memory of your perfume.

ෆ p ≽ pda ; perv!clark . . . lives for showing you off—just not in the way people expect. he doesn’t just want your hand in his. he wants your lipstick smeared and your breath caught in your throat, right outside the diner’s back exit. wants you pinned to the alley wall, dress rucked up, your thighs locked around his waist as he grinds against you like he can’t wait to get you home. and maybe he can’t. not when you’re so soft and needy and whispering his name like that. he’ll fuck you in public without anyone knowing. move so fast no one can catch more than a blur. he’ll have you bent over the hood of his truck, in a dark corner of the parking lot, hand over your mouth as he mutters, “keep quiet, baby, unless you want everyone knowing who makes you this messy.” he likes when there’s a risk. likes knowing someone might catch the way your head tips back when you come. likes when you have to walk back inside all flustered and flushed and pretending nothing happened while your panties stay tucked in his back pocket.

ෆ q ≽ quickie ; perv!clark . . . doesn’t need a lot of time—he just needs you. one minute you’re brushing your teeth or changing outfits or walking past him in those soft little pajama shorts, and the next thing you know? he’s already got you pressed against the counter, panties pushed to the side, muttering “just real quick, baby. can’t help it. you do this to me.” he’s always hard for you. literally—always. x-ray vision burned into every lace set you own, super-hearing tuned to every sigh, every tiny gasp, every sleepy moan you make at night when you’re tossing in bed, restless from the heat building between your thighs. he knows when you need him. and he never makes you wait. in the back of the truck. up against your bedroom door before it even clicks shut. in the fitting room. in the hallway at a party with people just feet away.

ෆ r ≽ reckless ; perv!clark . . . stops thinking the second your lips are on his—like he forgets his strength, his powers, the danger of it all, because fuck, you make him lose control. he slams you into walls with too much force. the drywall cracks, shelves rattle, picture frames tilt, and all he can do is groan, “sorry, sorry—can’t help it” as he kisses you harder, pounds into you rougher, like he’s chasing the edge of sanity with your name on his tongue. he grabs at you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. teeth on your neck, hands pushing your thighs open too fast, too wide, the couch skidding, the table rocking, the headboard snapping in half but he doesn’t care—he just keeps going. he leaves bruises on your hips that last for days. not on purpose, but because he can’t always hold back. he tries, he really does—but you always taste too good. feel too soft. look too pretty when you cry out for him. and the worst part? he loves that you let him. that you trust him enough to take you like that. to lose control with you and still be everything you need. you make him feel human—and that terrifies him.

ෆ s ≽ scent ; perv!clark . . . is addicted to your scent in a way he can’t explain, almost as if it’s branded into his dna, as if it’s the most essential thing in his life. the moment you walk into a room, it hits him—sweet, floral, warm, intoxicating. he can tell exactly what you’re wearing, which lotion you’ve used, the lingering trace of perfume that reminds him of soft nights tangled in your sheets. he’ll hold you close, your body pressed against his, and all he wants to do is bury himself in your scent. he’ll kiss your neck, your shoulders, the curve of your jaw, letting your skin cling to his lips—then, just to feel more of you, he’ll press his nose to the sensitive spot behind your ear and inhale deep, like he can never get enough.

ෆ t ≽ tangled ; perv!clark . . . loves when things get messy, when everything gets intertwined—your limbs, your thoughts, your desires. fingers laced together in a tight grip, he can’t help but wonder—how far will you both go? how many knots will you tie between each other, before you can’t tell where you end, and he begins? there’s something about the way your bodies move together that drives him wild. the feeling of your legs locking around him, the friction of your skin sliding against his in the heat of the moment. how every touch, every kiss, every movement feels like you’re both losing control. he wants to lose himself in you completely. and when you try to pull away—when you think you might need space, clark just pulls you closer, tangles his hands in your hair, presses his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss that says, “you’re mine. and i’ll never let you go.” you can’t breathe without him. you can’t think without him. you can’t escape him.

ෆ u ≽ urges ; perv!clark . . . doesn’t know how to suppress it anymore—how to ignore how your presence makes him feel. it’s the way he looks at you, the way his eyes follow every curve of your body, lingering just a second too long. his hands ache to feel your skin, his mouth to taste you, his body to claim you. a need to touch you—a need to press you against him, feel you, taste you, hear you gasp for him. it doesn’t matter where you are—he’ll find a way to give in to those urges, to take what he wants, even if it means a risky move, even if it means breaking the rules. he might even apologize afterward, though it’s a little empty. deep down, clark doesn’t feel bad for what he did. he needed you. he needed you in every way possible. and the urges only grow stronger with time.

ෆ v ≽ violent ; perv!clark . . . loves seeing you crumble in his arms, knowing he owns every piece of you—inside and out. he’s a little too rough, a little too wild, pushing you past your limits, but you know you secretly love it. It comes out in the way he grabs your wrists, presses you into the nearest surface, his body hard and demanding against yours. it’s in the way he makes you gasp for air, his grip tightening until you feel him, his presence overwhelming, pushing you to the edge of your tolerance. there’s something thrilling about it—the way his hands leave marks on your skin, the way his roughness makes you feel owned, claimed. the way he dominates you, forces you to surrender to him, makes you crave him more. sometimes, it’s not even about physical violence, but the way he dominates your mind, crushing any resistance you might try to hold onto.

ෆ w ≽ worship ; perv!clark . . . treats every moment with you as sacred, even as it burns with desire. his hands and eyes are on you constantly, adoring and hungry all at once. his voice, low and hushed, is full of reverence as he whispers your name. he tells you over and over again how beautiful you are, how perfect, he’ll go on for hours, exploring you, tasting you, as if he’s desperate to know every inch of you inside and out. and it’s not just about sex—it’s about devotion, about surrender, about him showing you that you are everything to him. that you are the only thing that matters.

ෆ x ≽ x-ray (vision) ; perv!clark . . . can see through the walls that separate him from you, through the clothes that cover you, with just a glance. it’s the little details that get him and it’s almost impossible for him to resist. he’s memorized every inch of you—the shape of your chest, the curve of your hips, the way your body reacts to even the slightest touch. the way your hands linger on the fabric of your panties, your fingers tracing the edges of lace and satin. he’s seen you in ways no one else has, and it’s become an obsession.

ෆ y ≽ yearning ; perv!clark . . . has got this constant, unrelenting pull toward you, it’s not just attraction—it’s something deeper, a yearning for connection, for possession, for you. more than physical desire; it’s about the way you make him feel, the way your presence invades his every waking thought. in the way his fists tighten when you wear that skirt he loves a little too high. in the way his breath catches when you lean too close, too sweet, too soft—and don’t even know what you’re doing to him. it builds inside him. gnaws. scratches. claws. he’s at your front door. at your bedroom window. behind walls you don’t know he’s hiding behind. he gets hard the second you walk into a room, pulse thundering, skin hot, jaw clenched from the effort it takes to keep his hands to himself. his need for you isn’t sweet or romantic—it’s overwhelming, irrational, feral.

ෆ z ≽ zoned out ; perv!clark . . . doesn’t just fantasize—he drifts so deep into it, it becomes real. you’ll catch him staring. silent. still. eyes glazed over like he’s somewhere else entirely. zoned out at work? it’s because he’s imagining what you’d look like bent over his desk. zoned out at the kitchen table? he’s picturing you on your knees between his legs, pretty little mouth drooling around his cock. zoned out in line at the store? yeah, he’s thinking about your panties. the ones you wore yesterday. the ones he stole. the ones he’s gonna jerk off with as soon as he gets home. and when he zones out around you? it’s dangerous. because that faraway look in his eye means his thoughts are filthy. he’s imagining all the things he’s not supposed to do. what your skin would taste like. how you’d sound begging. if he could hold your wrists down with just one hand—just how rough he could get before you cried. sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. caught so deep in his hunger, his breath shallow, thighs tense, jaw tight… he’s rock hard, leaking through his pants, biting his lip so hard it splits. because his fantasies aren’t soft. they’re intense, overpowering, and wrong in all the ways that make him dizzy.

#◟⊹ ˚˖ clarkitus kentley #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent x you #clark kent smallville imagines #clark kent smut #clark kent fic #clark kent superman #clark kent smallville #smallville clark kent #tom welling smut #smallville smut #pervert!clark #ck : dark desires

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softspiderling · 18 days ago

Text

your ex don’t do it for ya | m.d

summary:

He inclined his head towards Sam, who was standing in the backyard with a drink in her hand, talking to a cute guy, laughing. Her hand was on his arm, and he was standing a smidge too closer to her. Yeah, okay, you had to admit Miguel might be right about this one.

“So, you see that and you don’t even care?” you asked, turning back to Miguel with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah. I don’t care. See what I mean?”

OR; you give friendly advice one time and suddenly you’re the go to relationship expert

pairing: miguel diaz x reader

warnings: miguel and sam are dating at the beginning of this, there’s no cheating, mig and reader only become a thing way after sam and miguel break up. No smut, but alluding to it,

word count: 5,9k

author’s note: i can’t believe this is my first miguel fic. it feels like i’ve written so much for him already but this basically wrote itself 😭 it is also based on my dream, so rlly enjoy whatever my head cooked up! 🫶🏼 @katcoquette hoping this motivates you to finish cobra kai😔

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, you and Tory are too young to get married.”

“What.”

You cracked a grin at your paper, looking up to see your best friend standing in the doorway of your bedroom, looking distressed. Which was nothing new when it came to Robby, to be fair. He had a knack for getting involved in situations that had nothing to do with him.

“I’m just messing with you,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and stretching out your arms. You had been working on your paper for the last two hours, you could use a break, and whatever was on Robby’s mind, seemed like the best bet. “What’s up?”

Robby sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Yikes. You definitely weren’t going to like this.

“Miguel��s going through something and he asked me for advice… I wasn’t sure what to say, though,” he started and you gave him a look.

“… Advice concerning what?”

He pulled a face.

“Sam.”

You groaned, leaning your head back. Sam was… Okay. You didn’t really care for her. The way she treated Robby, kissing Miguel while she was still with Robby, causing the fight that lead Robby to make the worst decision of his life. Yes, he was on good terms with Sam now and yes, his life worked out despite its bumps, but still. You got along with Sam for everyone’s sake, but she definitely wasn’t one of your favorite people.

“They’re definitely too young to get married,” you said and Robby rolled his eyes at you.

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” you sighed. Miguel and Sam were probably the cheesiest couple you know, what sort of troubles could they be having?

“Miguel feels like they hit a roadblock in their relationship. Now with Sam graduating from UCLA soon... They were talking about moving in together.”

You nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, Miguel doesn’t want to do that.”

“What.” You stared at Robby and he threw his hands up.

“Exactly! He said he knew it was the next logical step in their relationship, but he just doesn’t want to.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“That’s what I said!” Robby exclaimed, clearly working himself up and you gently pushed his hands back down.

“Okay, Robby chill,” you told him. “I know you’re a problem solver, but honestly, this doesn’t sound like there’s much you can do to help.”

Robby only frowned at you and you straightened out the frown on his forehead with your fingers. “I mean it. Sometimes, all you can do is listen, alright? And it sounds like you did. So take a breather, give them some space to figure it out.”

He stared at you for a good while and you could tell that he was about to frown again, but he sighed in surrender, nodding. “Okay. Thanks for talking it through with me.”

“course. That’s what I’m here for.”

Robby gave you a small smile, knocking on your desk. “Don’t forget we’re having the party for the gatorade thing next Saturday.”

Gatorade thing, he said. His and Tory’s sponsorship that would be announced to the public next Friday, and the small party for their friends they were throwing at your place.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Considering I live here.”

He gave you an exasperated look and you grinned at him, shooing him out of your room to return to your paper. When Robby left, shutting your bedroom door behind him, you thought this would be the last you’d hear Miguel and Sam’s relationship problems. Come to think of it, Sam and Miguel would probably have worked it out with no problems and go see some condos to rent, but to your surprise, you were proven wrong.

When Saturday came around, and people started showing up at your place, buffet decked out with every single Gatorade flavor there was, you saw Miguel and Sam arrive together, but quickly part ways as soon as they said their hellos.

You were no relationship expert, but that didn’t look like a couple that was excited to move in together. But who were you to judge? You pushed their business to the back of your head and continued to play co-host. A while later, you had finally given up your hosting duties back to Robby and Tory, you were walking around, drink in your hand, when you found Miguel leaning on the wall in the living room, sipping on his drink. He was staring into the distance, like he was on a different planet.

“Hey, you good?”

Your words seemed to snap him out of it, as he looked down to you, a small smile on his face.

“Hey, yeah, sorry, I was lost in thoughts.”

You nodded slowly, taking a sip from your drink.

“Uh huh.”

Miguel paused, his forehead creasing before he let out a soft sigh.

“Robby told you, didn’t he?”

You feigned ignorance, widening your eyes for good measure.

“What? No…”

Miguel gave you a look and you only shrugged with your shoulders. “Hey, you know he’s someone who likes to talk about things that stress him out, and he couldn’t really talk to Tory about it so it was me. And I’m not too thrilled about being dragged into this either, okay?”

Miguel sighed, nodding. “Yeah, yeah I know. I just don’t want this to spread like a wildfire. I don’t want to hurt Sam. I just don’t see us living together right now…” he trailed off, staring at the ground.

“Have you ever thought about just talking to her?”

“I have, but she’s just gonna take it the wrong way and it’ll start a fight,” Miguel huffed. “It’s not a problem in a relationship, it’s a problem with me. I don’t want to hurt her, I really care about her.”

“Okay, so you care about her, that’s good, right?” you said, but he didn’t look convinced. “Or… It isn’t?”

“It feels different.”

Miguel frowned, trying to find the right words and you let him, swishing your almost empty drink in your cup. You wished you had filled it up before talking to Miguel, this seemed like a good conversation to have while drunk.

“I care about her, but it’s not the way I felt about her before.”

“Like, that you care more about her, or…?”

“No, it’s like… I used to get so jealous when she was talking to other guys and laughing about their jokes,” he explained. “But now, it’s like, eh, whatever. That’s not right, is it?”

You bit back a smile. “Mig, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It just means that you trust her. Not everyone has to be a raging jealous boyfriend.”

“Not even if she’s flirting with someone else in front of everyone we know?”

“What?”

“So you see that and you don’t even care?” you asked, turning back to Miguel with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah. I don’t care. See what I mean?”

Wow.

You let out an exhale, nodding slowly before pursing your lips.

“When’s the last time you guys fucked?”

Miguel snorted and you rolled your eyes. “Sorry, made love,” you said, quoting with your fingers and he huffed.

“That’s not-” he broke off, shaking his head. “We haven’t had sex in a while, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Meaning what? A week? Two?”

“Try four.”

“Four weeks is fine, Miguel,” you said, but he snorted.

“Four months.”

“FOUR MONTHS!?”

Your voice was louder than intended and everyone around you gave you a look, while Miguel snickered into his cup. You shooed the starers back into their own conversations before turning back to Miguel, slapping his arm.

“Why haven’t you guys had sex in four months? You’ve seen each other plenty,” you argued.

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like it anymore,” he said, defensive. “It’s not like she’s initiating either. When we first started dating, we were all over each other, one little touch and I was ready to go but now?”

He looked away, taking another sip from his cup. It really seemed like it was bothering him and you softened a little. While you didn’t care for Sam, Miguel became a pretty big part of your life after he and Robby patched things up, even more so when Johnny married Carmen. If Sam was what made him happy, who were you to stand in the way of that?

“Maybe it’s a stress thing?” you suggested, putting your cup down. “When you’ve got a lot of things on your mind, sex is the last thing you’re thinking about. Let me try something?”

Miguel gave his go ahead with a brief nod, and you placed your hand on his chest. You felt a little awkward, with Sam being right around the corner and you being such good friends with Miguel, but he needed your help, so you placed your other hand on his bicep, like you were flirting with him. The touch was innocent enough, you just wanted to gauge his reaction. When you looked up at him, Miguel’s eyes were wide and you only cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, my libido’s not the problem,” he said in a tight voice, licking his lips before he gently pushed your hands off him. You were only slightly off put, taking a step back, feeling weirdly rejected.

“Well, then I don’t really know what to tell you,” you said, picking your cup back up to hide behind it. “I really think you should just talk to Sam.”

Miguel sighed, leaning his head against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

“It seems like it might be the only thing left for me to do.”

“PARTY PEOPLE!”

You jumped a little when Hawk came through the door, a speaker balancing on his shoulder, blasting 90’s music, Moon and Demetri hot on his heels. The vibe of the party immediately shifted, with everyone lifting their cups to cheer, pushing Tory and Robby to the front.

“Well, if that’s not the sign to break up this little pity party,” Miguel mused, gesturing towards the crowd. You rolled your eyes at him in exasperation before the two of you pushed away from the wall to join the crowd, with Demetri passing out a weird mix of gatorade and vodka.

The party lasted until the early morning hours. With everyone being so busy, it wasn’t often that everyone could come around, so you used every opportunity to catch up with your friends you could get. When the last people left, neither you, Tory nor Robby were up for cleaning up, so you pushed it for the next morning.

Which you deeply regretted.

It was past noon when you arose from your slumber with only a slight headache pounding in your head. You padded out of your room, and the house was still quiet, so Tory and Robby must still be asleep. As you made your way to the kitchen, you stopped in your tracks, seeing the remnants of the party, groaning.

“I need coffee,” you muttered to yourself, continuing your way to the kitchen.

After some coffee, you felt more awake to tackle the mess in the house, equipped with two trash bags. You were clearing away the empty cups on the kitchen counter when Tory found you, eyes still bleary.

“Hey.”

“Morning,” she said, yawning into her hand. “Have you been up for long?”

“Eh, like fifteen minutes or so. I made coffee.”

You jerked your heard towards the coffee machine and Tory only nodded, walking over to the coffee machine to fix herself a cup without another comment. You were used to it. Neither you nor Tory were morning people; a stark contrast to Robby, who woke up with sunshine in his ass. As Tory finished her first cup of coffee, you were wiping down the counter, because you distinctly remembered Demetri spilling gatorade all over it while he was mixing “vodkarade”, as he called it.

“Hey, thanks again for agreeing to host the party,” Tory said, putting her empty mug in the sink, coming over to help you with the empty bottles, collecting them in a box. “Brandon’s in a mood and I wasn’t going to force him to socialize with our friends.”

“It’s fine,” you snorted with a laugh. “It was fun

The two of you cleaned in silence, before Tory spoke up again, her tone hesitant.

“I saw that you talked to Miguel last night,” she started, and you tensed a little, trying to play it off. “Is he okay?”

Did Robby tell her something? Or did Sam?

“Yeah, he seemed fine to me. Why?” you asked back, trying to to deflect. Tory only shrugged, tightening the cap around the empty tequila bottle.

“I don’t know. I feel like he and Sam feel off, somehow. We used to hangout a lot but in the past few weeks one of them always canceled. And last night, I barely saw them together.”

Yeah, it was definitely time for Miguel to talk to Sam.

“Have you talked to Sam about it?” you asked Tory casually and she scoffed, giving you a look.

“No, that would just open a whole can of worms,” she said, vehemently shaking her head. “I don’t want to get involved in their drama. I’m just worried.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure out, whatever it might be,” you told her with an encouraging smile, really hoping that you weren’t lying to her. Tory nodded slowly, not entirely convinced as she filled the box with the rest of the empty bottles. The sound of Robby’s feet padding into the kitchen made you both look to the doorway as he paused, his hair still messy from having just woken up.

“Aw, you guys should’ve woken me up to clean!”

With the three of you, it didn’t take long until the house was spotless again. Eventually, Robby and Tory left, because he was taking her and Brandon out for dinner, and you had the house to yourself. After a nice long shower, you settled on the couch, clicking through Netflix to find something brain-rotting to watch, when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” you called over your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s me!” Miguel called out over the sound of the door closing again, before he appeared in the living room. “Robby and Tory out?”

“Yeah,” you replied, frowning at the tv. When did they take Law & Order: SVU off Netflix?

“You know you really shouldn’t be leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter when you’re home by yourself,” he pointed out, dropping on the couch next to you.

“Why not?” you asked, eyes still trained on the tv. “I know some karate.”

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t,” you admitted, finally turning to look at Miguel, an eyebrow raised. He looked unsettled, his cheeks a little red. “What’s up?”

“We had a fight.”

“Of course you did,” you sighed, the picture perfect view you previously had of Miguel and Sam’s relationship fading more and more. “What was it about?”

“I don’t even know,” Miguel groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. “We were just talking about how nice last night was and then she brought up how she saw us talking, and I said that she seemed pretty cozy with that guy and then everything just spiraled from there.”

“So you did care that she was flirting with that guy!” you said, triumphantly, like it was some sort of breakthrough, but he only shook his head, dropping it back on the cushions.

“No! I was just mad because it felt like she was accusing me of something!”

“Well, it sounds like you both accused each other of something.”

Miguel only grumbled something incoherent and you rolled your eyes at him. If this was what it was like to be in a relationship, you were glad that you weren’t in one. You smacked his arm to get his attention.

“Don’t you think that was the perfect time to bring up your thoughts? I mean, you were already fighting, what’s one more thing?”

He peeked an eye open to glare at you.

“I chickened out.”

“No shitting.”

You sighed, turning your body towards him while tucking your legs under your body. “Look, I don’t want to alarm you, but Tory asked me if I knew what was up with you.”

Miguel’s eyes widened comically, and if he didn’t look so panicked, you’d laugh. “She did? What did you say?”

“There isn’t much to say, is there?” you asked back, exasperated. “She’s worried, Mig. Whatever this thing with Sam is, it’s not going to resolve itself, if you won’t talk about it. Actually, I feel like it’s getting worse.”

“I know, I know,” Miguel huffed. “I will, okay? I promise

“Hey, you don’t have to promise me anything. You’re the one who’s suffering if you won’t talk to her,” you pointed out and Miguel pursed his lips, nodding.

“You’re right,” he relented, puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled loudly. He reached for the tv remote, zapping through the things Netflix was offering, and you leaned back on the couch, resigned. Despite what you had said to him, you worried that this could affect you more, if it went on any longer. Robby was already in the middle of it, dragging you right with him and now that Tory noticed, it was only a matter of time until more people would say something.

But not your monkey, not your circus, right?

Wrong.

Over the next few days, you spent more time with Miguel then not. You knew he was trying to avoid Sam and you kept reminding him to stop putting it off, but to no avail. Until it was a couple of days since you had seen him, which then turned into a week. It was weird, because you had gotten so used to him, but maybe he and Sam patched things up and he was too busy to let you know. You tried to be happy about it, but a part of you felt a little sick.

“I still can’t believe they’re sending you a driver.”

Robby only glanced back at you with a grin as he packed the last of his bag. He and Tory were headed out to a karate championship in San Francisco and their agency sent them a personal car to take them to the airport.

“You know I could’ve taken you.”

Or Miguel, if he had bothered to show up.

“Nah, we wouldn’t have made you drive through all that traffic, especially not by yourself.”

Robby zipped up his bag, shouldering it as he walked out of the house, while you followed him.

“Well, I was offering, so…”

“Offering what?” Tory asked, critically watching the driver stuff their bags into the trunk before looking at you.

“To drive us to the airport,” Robby replied with a small grin, putting his bag on top of the rest of their luggage. The driver made an almost imperceptible face, gently taking the bag to sort it himself. Tory snickered at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Thanks but we got our own driver .”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, shaking your head for good measure. “Wasn’t Miguel supposed to come today? He would’ve agreed with me.”

“Yeah, he was supposed to. But I figured with everything going on right now, I’d give him a pass,” Robby said, brushing his hair back. Of course he did. Your best friend was a saint.

“Oh come on,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “Just because he’s scared to bring up a problem in their relationship with Sam, doesn’t mean he’s allowed a pass.”

Tory gave you a weird look before she exchanged glances with Robby, who looked equally puzzled. Why did it feel like you were missing something?

“What.”

“You know they broke up, right?”

Your mouth dropped.

“What?”

“I thought he told you,” Robby said with furrowed brows.

You let out an indignant huff, shaking your head. “No. I haven’t heard from him for a couple of days, I figured they made up or something.”

“Quite the opposite,” Tory said, wincing. “But they seem to be doing fine.”

Huh.

You couldn’t help but feel annoyed, but there was no time to grill them any further, the driver giving them a sign that it was time to leave.

“Alright, you guys have a good flight,” you said, quickly hugging the both of them. “Text me when you’ve landed. And good luck.”

The two quickly got into the car, before the black, sleek Mercedes pulled out of the drive way. You stayed stood, until they disappeared down the street, like you were frozen in time, your thoughts swirling. With a frown, small sigh, you headed back inside. A few days go by, a couple of messages from Robby and Tory, telling you about their competition and possible new sponsors, but none from Miguel. You tried to give him space, that was what people needed after a break up, right?

Sitting on the couch, some mindless tv show running in the background, when your phone pinged. Quickly, you picked up, thinking it might be Miguel, but there were no new messages.

“Ugh!” you groaned, tossing your phone into the corner of the couch. This is the fifth time you were imagining your phone going off. Crossing your arms, you stewed in silence, your head spinning.

“No, because fuck that,” you finally muttered to yourself, grabbing your phone, keys and rushing outside the door, taking your car to Miguel’s place.

The drive didn’t take long, most of it done on autopilot while you were going through what you would throw at his head and before you knew it, you were pulled up in front of his place. You made quick work of parking and then, you were already pounding on his door with your fist.

“Hey asshole!”

The door opened, and Miguel stood in front of you, his eyes wide.

“Jesus, what is going on?”

You glared at him, poking his chest with your index finger. “So I’m good enough to come to when you’re having problems but I have to hear it from Robby that you and Sam broke up?”

Your voice was loud, undoubtedly offering free entertainment to Miguel’s neighbors but you didn’t care. Miguel cursed under his breath, grabbing you by the wrist to drag you inside, shutting the door behind you. You frowned at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well?”

He shook his head at you. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you okay… I was…” he broke off with a huff, running his hand through his hair. You only stared at him expectantly and Miguel avoided your eyes, starting to pace back and forth.

“When Sam and I broke up, we talked and it just made me realize some things, okay?” Miguel explained, sighing. “I just needed some time to think.”

“Realized what?” you asked, but he only wrung his hands, unable to look you in the eyes as he kept pacing back and forth. You let out a loud sigh, throwing your hands up.

“Miguel, what?”

Miguel looked at you, taking a deep breath before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. You froze, not having expected it, and as soon as he noticed your lack of reaction, he pulled away, stepping back, his eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to you so you could kiss him back. The kiss started out slow at first, before it started to deepen, with Miguel backing you up against the wall, your head meeting the back of his hand instead of the wall. The kiss turned messy, hot, tongues interlocking, and you were gasping into his mouth. This is not what you had expected to happen when you came here to yell at Miguel because of Sam.

Sam.

Miguel’s ex.

Whom he just broke up with.

“Wait wait wait wait,” you said, pulling away as you caught your breath, ignoring how Miguel was chasing after your lips. “What are we even doing right now?”

He quirked a grin at you. “If you’re still questioning that, I’m definitely doing something wrong,” he murmured, leaning in to pepper small kisses along your neck. You leaned your head back against the wall, sighing softly, letting yourself be selfish for a second, before you gently pushed Miguel away, who looked at you in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

You looked up at him, and he was looking at you at you with those big brown eyes, and you only groaned, turning away.

“Miguel, you and Sam just broke up, I’m not gonna be a rebound hook up, not with you.”

His eyes softened a little, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Sam and I didn’t just break up,” he started. “When we finally sat down to talk, we both realized that our relationship had ended a while ago. Somehow, somewhere, we both lost our feelings for each other. I still care about her,” he clarified. “But not the way I used to. Not the way I care about you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your mouth opening to interject, but Miguel pressed a finger on your lips.

“Just let me finish?”

With a sigh, you nodded, and he continued.

“I thought something was genuinely wrong with me when I stopped being attracted to Sam, but when you did that thing at the party… I realized I just wasn’t attracted to her anymore. So I guess I did feel a little guilty when Sam accused me of letting you feel me up while I was still with her, even though she was just trying to have a talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, while he smiled down at you.

“I guess I always thought you were pretty, but I never realized how pretty you were until that night. And it didn’t help that you kept trying to give me advice to patch things up with Sam, even though I knew that it was getting on your nerves.”

Scoffing, you gave him a look and Miguel only laughed, shaking his head.

“Trust me, this is not a rebound hook up. I wouldn’t risk out friendship nor my relationship with Robby for that.”

You still weren’t entirely convinced as you thought it over in your head. “And you’re sure about that?”

“Yes, a 100%,” he confirmed, his hand cupping around the side of your neck, his touch gentle as his thumb gently caressed along your jaw. “Okay?”

You breathed out deeply, like you were collecting all the bravery you could muster, before you nodded, your lips tugged into a small smile. “Okay.”

Miguel leaned in to kiss you again and you eagerly returned it, wrapping your arms around his neck, the kiss deepening. It didn’t take long for Miguel to pick you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, where he quickly made you forget everything but the two of you.

“I’m really glad you came here to yell at me.”

You were still catching your breath, chest heaving and that was the last thing you had expected him to say, out of all things. You glanced over to Miguel with a grin, his curls sticking a little to his sweaty forehead. The sun was shining through the window, reflecting the small specks of gold in his eyes as he looked at you. He looked kind of beautiful in this light, despite the sinful things he had just done to you.

“That a kink of yours, Diaz?” you teased, reaching out to gently brush his hair off his forehead and he only rolled his eyes at you fondly.

“I’m just saying. You coming here gave me the push I needed. I don’t know how long I would’ve just tried to avoid you,” he admitted, scooting up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. “I’m not a confrontational person.”

“Excuse me?” you laughed, glancing over your shoulder in disbelief. “I recall you confronting Robby multiple times before you guys finally made up.”

“That’s different, I had no chance of losing a fight to Robby.”

“Okay El Serpiente,” you snickered and Miguel only squeezed your waist in retaliation, even though you could feel his mouth curve up against your shoulder blade.

“Speaking of Robby,” Miguel started, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “How do you plan on telling him?”

“Wait, why do I have to tell him?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

“You’re his best friend.”

“You’re his brother.”

“You’ve known him longer. And you live with him,” Miguel pointed out and you sighed, absentmindedly tracing circles into the back of his hand.

“Fine, I guess you make a good point,” you admitted with a pursed lips. “Honestly, I think he might be fine with it, it’s just gonna be an uncomfortable situation, like having the sex talk with your parents.”

“I don’t know whether I should feel insulted or honored.”

You laughed, but before you could reply, you could hear the distinct sound of the front door open.

“Mig, was that your front door?” you whispered, alarmed and he only looked at you confused.

“Miguel? You home?”

Both of you blanched when you recognized Robby’s voice, starting to panic.

“What the fuck is he doing back already?” you hissed and Miguel only shrugged, his eyes darting around his bedroom, trying to find a good hiding spot.

“Miguel?”

“In the bedroom, sorry I’ll be right out!” Miguel yelled back but you could hear Robby’s footsteps come closer, so you did the first thing you could think of: Hiding under the cover and lay as flat as possible.

“Hey, were you just talking to someone?”

Robby’s voice sounded close. Too close. You could only hope he wouldn’t see you behind Miguel.

“Hey man.,” Miguel greeted him, too cheerful to be inconspicuous and you bit back a groan. “Um, no, just here by myself.”

“Okay… Sorry to barge in here like this, I just wanted to see if you were okay.” Damn Robby and his big heart. “- so I thought I’d come check up on you. By the way, you haven’t seen her around, have you? I saw her car on the street.”

Damn it.

“What? No, haven’t seen her for a few days,” Miguel said, shifting under the blankets. “Maybe she’s just visiting someone in the neighborhood.”

“Hey if she’s around, how about the three of us go grab a bite?” Robby suggested. “Let me give her a call.”

“Wait, Robby-”

Your phone started to ring, echoing in the bedroom, in the back pocket of your jeans.

No no no no no no no.

Suddenly, your phone stopped ringing and the silence that followed was deafening. For a few seconds, no one said anything. Until-

“That better not be my best friend under your covers.”

With a defeated sigh, you slowly emerged from under the blanket, peeking at Robby from behind Miguel, a sheepish smile on your face, which your best friend only met with a blank stare.

“Hey Robby, what if you go wait in the living room for us and we’ll be right out…?” Miguel’s suggestion was carefully worded, like he was trying not to set him off and Robby only blinked at you, before sighing, turning to leave.

Miguel glanced back to you, his forehead creased in worry. “That could’ve gone better.”

With a frustrated groan, you let your head fall back onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, cursing whatever God that set this in motion.

“You should go.”

You and Miguel both said at the same time, before looking at each other, frowning. After questioning your life choices that led you to this moment, you and Miguel both got dressed to meet Robby in the living room. He was sitting on the arm chair, with a look on his face that you couldn’t quite read.

“Someone should definitely go,” Robby said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Miguel sighed, a pained look on his face.

“This is my mom and sensei all over again,” he muttered to himself before leaning towards Robby, clearing his throat. “Look Robby, obviously we didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“How long has this been going on exactly?”

You and Miguel exchanged a look before you turned back to Robby. “Well, today…”

Robby squinted his eyes at you, then, he looked at Miguel. “When you told me you kind of had feelings for someone, that would be.”

“Me.”

“Her.”

“Did you know about this?” Robby asked you, accusatory and you only frowned at him.

“What? No! I came here today to yell at him because he didn’t even tell me that he and Sam broke up, I didn’t intend to-”

“Okay okay I don’t need to hear all that,” Robby quickly interjected, waving his hands at you until you stopped talking. His eyes kept darting between you and Miguel, like he couldn’t quite decide who to yell at first. Then, he sighed. “I guess I somehow should’ve seen this coming… You guys happy like this?”

You turned to Miguel, who was already looking at you with a smile on his face. “Yeah.”

“Ugh, you guys make me sick.”

A pillow was thrown in Robby’s direction, which he quickly dodged with a laugh. Meanwhile, Miguel scooted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Robby watched you for a second, before he shook his head.

“At least dad’s gonna be thrilled,” he snorted and you only rolled your eyes, leaning back into Miguel, who furrowed his brows.

“Why thrilled?”

“He always wanted us to date,” Robby explained, speaking over your loud ew. “At least one of his sons is following his wishes.”

“Let’s just wait before we tell people,” Miguel said, rubbing your arm. “Enjoy the peace and quiet before the crazy begins.”

You nodded in agreement and Robby only shrugged with his shoulders. “Fine with me if it means you guys keep the PDA to an all time low while we’re in public.”

“Didn’t you literally make out with Tory in front of like thousands of people on live tv?” you argued and Robby shook his head.

“That’s different. The world champion title was on the line.”

With a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I hate karate.”

“Hey!”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: your honor I love them

#miguel diaz x reader #Miguel diaz #Miguel Diaz x you #Miguel diaz fanfiction #Miguel diaz fanfic #Miguel diaz fic #xolo maridueña #cobra kai #ck

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