#i feel like im giving up on people. but its not my job to pull everyone out of drowning themselves and i cant even | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xo2dee · 4 months ago

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ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ

𓆩♡𓆪 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Nanami Kento x (Fem)Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI/18+ only. post shibuya au, post shibuya!nanami, manga spoilers, mentions of body harm, established relationship, body worship, hand jobs, thigh riding, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 9833

𓆩♡𓆪 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: In time, in sync, tonight the stage is yours.

𓆩♡𓆪 ᴀ/ɴ: i wrote this like two years ago for nanami's bday and was supposed to post it again on his bday but im late for everything :/ but pls enjoy!

𓆩♡𓆪 twitter - ao3

Violet clouds tumbling about in various shapes and sizes and an orange sky waning to something cooler took the time to bathe Tokyo in its glory for the evening. And as gorgeous as it looked, you could not find the means to take in the beautiful sight outside your balcony window since you were too busy keeping all your attention on your surly lover and his disgruntled attitude from the moment he had woke up that morning.

“No peeking,” you reminded him, your hands still covering his eyes regardless before you placed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Kento sighed, his shoulders drooping and leaning his back from where he sat in the dining room to brush the crown of his head against your chest, “I’m not, and I told you this wasn’t necessary. You didn’t have to go out of your way to do anything for me.” His voice remained in that low grumble (tired, quiet, and nearly monotone), but you could vaguely hear the briefest bit of anticipation in way his vocal cords slightly shook. From the element of surprise or your clingy behavior? You weren’t sure.

You pulled your hands away after resting your chin on his shoulder, glancing over to make sure he still wasn’t peeking before you hummed and rubbed your hands along his upper arms, “So you say, but you of all people should know me.”

“I do, and I had a feeling from the moment you left this morning that you were up to something.”

You looked away from his long eyelashes brushing across his skin, noting the faintest shade of red coloring his cheek in the process, and looked in front of you both onto the dinner table where sat his ‘birthday cake’ and the polka-dotted candles lit up with the number 32 spread out. You moved your hands onto his shoulders and massaged them, your own sigh falling out of your mouth and kissed his temple at his ragged tone. “It’s nothing bad… And it’s not like I pulled a Gojo and nearly planned a whole surprise party; just a little of something to show my appreciation and love for you.”

“You already did this morning and gave me my gift. And you’ve told me, ‘Happy Birthday’ at least three times already today too.”

You squeezed his shoulders and rolled your eyes, remembering his sleepy grumbling when you had woken him up at three in the morning to tell him, when you had kissed his scarred cheek from behind as he stood in front of the mirror brushing his teeth and told him, and when you had texted him around lunch time with an excessive amount of emojis and letters full of caps lock and received a thumbs up emoji in response and just a, ‘Thank you, I love you’.

(Kento sucked at texting and it only seemed to be getting worse as he grew older, but you weren’t about to tell him that.)

But he could blush and sigh in exasperation all he wanted, you knew he liked attention from you. “So what? It’s like a national holiday to me today… Anyway, you can open your eyes now,” you combed your fingers through his hair, the undercut long since grown out as he had gotten older before throwing your arms around his shoulders once more as you pressed your cheek into his and smiled from the warmth it emitted, “I hope you like it.”

You could feel him sigh before you heard him, peeking in your peripheral vision as you watched his one eye open to give sight to the lone umber iris you treasured as it settled on the table in front of him. You bit the inside of your cheek as he took it in, the usual taut furrow in his brow lessening, his lips slightly parting as you watched the amber candlelight flicker across his sharp, angular features, and a glimmer of surprise taking over his expression altogether as he took in what was in front of him while remaining speechless. It made you giddy, a giggle bubbling out of your lungs from his apparent awe as you angled your mouth onto his jawline and kissed him there as well, leaving behind yet another lipstick stain in your wake.

“Happy Birthday, handsome. You said you weren’t up for a cake this year, so I had to compromise and I think I did pretty good.”

You folded your hands atop his chest (his steady heartbeat ricocheting off your palms setting itself as a reminder of what you nearly lost, and how it remained beating despite the rough exterior of his skin on the outside and the failed lung the doctors did their best to help causing him to have breathing problems still after four years) and embraced him from your stance behind him, basking yourself in his warmth as you heard his breathing pick up and his hand coming up to curl around your wrist.

“This is… I haven’t had this in –”

“Nearly ten years? I know,” you cheekily replied, tucking your face in his neck and curling yourself into his scent, “Would’ve been a hassle trying to find the place if it wasn’t for you telling me about it all the time.”

Kento made a noise in the back of his throat, releasing his hold on your wrist and turning his head as you removed your face from his neck so that your noses brushed across one and another, “You… Is that what you were scribbling on that piece of paper this morning…?” He hadn’t removed his eyepatch for the day, nor had he ever seemed to stop dressing down since the accident, but you knew it was more of a small insecurity he held within himself to remain looking as normal as he could. Not that he was particularly vain, but you knew he hated looking in the mirror sometimes thinking he was disfigured beyond being recognized and often it showed when it came to you regardless.

Nevertheless you felt your cheeks warm, realizing he had seen you doing that and casted a small glance to your purse that laid on the couch from when you came home and he took it from you. Kento’s own near indistinguishable glint in his eye brightened, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you into his lap and securing you there when you threw your legs across his own as you got ready for all the teasing you knew was to come. However, he seemingly spared you for the night, taking your hand to press a warm kiss to the inside of your wrist and murmuring against your skin so quietly and softly you nearly didn’t hear him.

“Tell me about your day.”

He wanted to know your thought process on why you did it and truly what you had done the entire day away from him.

The dreaded piece of paper with your destination scrabbled on it like chicken scratch had been crumbled and folded up in your purse as you had left your shared apartment in a haste, nearly your shoes on the wrong feet and almost forgetting your wallet in the process to race against the clock to get to work and to perhaps keep your husband under wraps for the surprise. However, going to the store and getting all the other supplies you needed was a walk in the park, but trying to find the exact location of… Hell, you weren’t even able read the damn name anymore by the time 4 P.M. rolled around, as the ink had blotted and the shitty pen you kept in your purse barely worked anyway, so you were left with squinting at it standing on the sidewalk trying to remember where in the fuck you were supposed to go in smack dab the middle of the Summer.

And, fuck, was it hot.

Unbearably and unbelievably hot.

July was seemingly always scalding in the Summer of Tokyo, and it didn’t really matter that the sun was only beginning to set for the temperature to remain the same as it was from noon until at least nine at night. Perspiration clung to your body with every step you took, your thighs beginning to chafe from how they had been rubbing together while you walked and you were then wondering if the sun had fried your brain from where it had been beating down on your scalp all day. You had lost count of the many times you had accidentally licked your upper lip free of any sweat, hoping to anyone above that your eyelash glue wasn’t melting off your fucking eyelid and your eyeliner wasn’t running and smudged underneath your eye with the amount times you had fiddled with your face, but more importantly you hoped that whatever you were doing worked out in the end and you didn’t look like an idiot.

It was July 3rd, and you had trotted out around on one of the world’s hottest, and most special days in desperation for a gift you had somehow thought of on your own to get.

It was July 3rd, and it was your husband’s – Nanami Kento – birthday, and you were trying your damnedest to find that little, nook-and-cranny, locally owned (because Kento really preferred local businesses more than anything) bakery that he used to frequent constantly, and maybe beg for the recipe for his favorite sandwich so that you could make it for him for his birthday and any other day he wanted for the rest of his life.

Perhaps it was an oddball gift, as you had already asked Kento what he wanted –

(“What do you want for your birthday?”

“You don’t have to get me anything. Spending time with you that day is enough for me.”

“Corny. And you say that every year, and you still get me things for my birthday.”

“And I mean it every year. The greatest gift you have given me was when you agreed to marry me, so you’ve already given me everything I could have ever wanted.”

Okay, you’d admit, you giggled, squealed, and kicked your feet like a girl with a crush at that, the corny, dork of a man always one-upping you and making you feel like a Goddess, but God for once you wanted to make him feel the same way.)

– and he had said nothing despite the fact that whenever you gifted him that book he had been eyeballing in the book store he had literally sighed like he was fantasizing about getting home to watch his favorite cooking show, and it was then the lightbulb in your head went off when you remembered Kento only really sighed over very few things.

One: the crisp smell of a new book and the tightly wounded spine nearly making him bust in his pants whenever he got his hands on it.

Two: you.

And three: food. Not just any old food either; sandwiches that made him gush and launch into a detailed explanation about whenever the bread was baked just right, and the vegetables looked like edible art, and the meat to it was laid and folded just perfectly with the right amount of sauce and any seasoning, was really what could get Kento going and make him literal putty.

So, you thought, why not find that bakery he used to go to (and for some reason won’t go back, you weren’t about to ask why either) and get the little recipe of the sandwich he sometimes would whisper in your ear about like he was dirty talking to you again, and just make it for him? It was a perfect idea to you, and for once Kento wouldn’t practically kick you out of the kitchen whenever you offered to make something for him whenever you had the Holy Grail in your hands and could hover it over his head.

Yeah, it was a good gift, and you only had nonchalantly asked him the name of the place so you were all set the moment he spoke them without a thought in the world. Kento would be ecstatic, and it’d make you feel at ease if you got see that genuine smile spread across his face because he had looked miserable when you went to work that morning and lingered by the front door longer than usual and kissed you goodbye a little harder than normal before you left. Then he’d be less miserable having his favorite sandwich made out for him and sleep like a baby that night with one hand holding your boob like always.

Yeah, everything would work out perfectly.

And considering his reaction and how he was staring at you perched atop his lap embarrassed as you rambled on about everything, you assumed you hit the nail on the head.

Kento had propped an elbow up onto the table, his cheek resting against his knuckles and his thumb rubbing into your hipbone as you finished talking as he had listened so intently with a twinkle in his half-lidded eye and small, smile on his face. “Even when I think I know you, you still continue to surprise me.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, thoroughly smug that you had managed to surprise him in the end and batted your eyelashes at him, “It’s my charm. And it’s not a fun marriage unless we still continue to surprise each other like this.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily know, this is my first marriage.”

“And it better be your only.”

He rolled his eye back, tapping his index finger against his temple and flexing his thighs beneath your body as he stretched them out, as he knew you were only teasing him ever since you laughed in his ear at the old grannies down at Farmer’s Market with hearts in their eyes every time he went and grocery shopped. “I took my vows to heart that day –”

“I know, it was like two pages long –”

“ – Regardless,” he shot you a look, but his reddening cheeks spoke for the most of him, “I’m a monogamous man… for the rest of my life.”

“Like a penguin.”

Kento’s lips twisted into a curl, like he was trying to hold himself back from laughing, “You say my animal documentaries are boring, yet you remember things like that?”

You shrugged and brought yourself closer to him, locking your fingers behind his neck and bringing his cheek in for another kiss, “I think it’s sweet… Anyway, I take it you like your gifts?” you asked with a tilt of uncertainty in your voice, something he caught up on with his intuitive sixth sense when it came to all things regarding you.

Kento moved meticulously, removing his hand from his cheek and to yours as his other slid up to rest on your back with his fingers spread, and it took you a long moment to realize he was touching you with his left hand. All remnants of nearly flawless skin that was once there, and you nearly couldn’t even feel the callousness of it spread out to his fingertips as you had grown so used to it. Kento’s left hand was the hand that held the wedding band, and it was the hand you always took to hold, to kiss, to rub your cheek across in a semblance of your love whenever you couldn’t find the words to tell him and he was going through a bout and your actions spoke louder than your words ever could.

He still looked at you the same way he had whenever you were the first face he saw whenever he woke up from the hospital and the day he saw you at your wedding. And you still had trouble not shying away from his intense gaze like the days you could barely look him in eyes in the beginning of your relationship, but it was all worth it in the end whenever he spoke his affirmations to you.

Kento was not a man of many words per say, more showing his emotions through his actions, but when he did take the time to formulate words of comfort on his tongue to mouth into your skin, you knew he meant every word.

“Of course, anything and everything you given me I cherish, beloved. Getting my favorite sandwich, however…” he trailed off, and you could distinctly hear his stomach grumble in a sign that he had not yet ate. He took that time to drop his hand to rub at your arm, a sigh leaving him that sounded nearly forlorn and you just knew he was already calculating all the parts of the sandwich and critiquing them to his liking. And from what you could see (nearly the damn reflection of the sandwich shining in his eye with sparkles around it), he liked what he saw.

(Honestly, if he had never went into being a salaryman those short years or made his way back into Jujutsu Sorcery, Kento could’ve easily have became a chef if he so wanted. You could vouch for that for the many nights Kento cooked for you and sent you off to work with a packed lunch.)

Though looking at Kento reminded of you of part two for what you wanted to tell him, the corner of the receipt paper it was written on digging into your breast (and probably a little sweaty) as you straightened back up and pulled your face away from his.

“Ah – that reminds me –” you dropped your arms from around his neck before you began unbuttoning your shirt, discreetly eyeing Kento as you did and creasing your lips so that you didn’t laugh whenever you saw his eye widen and face turn that lovely shade of rose when you figured he was thinking you were turning to a more carnal side. Silly, cute, little man, he had seen you naked countless times, but still got slightly embarrassed and would start sweating whenever you started to show him your boobs, and it always fun to tease at him. You didn’t keep him on the edge, afraid he’d combust if you started undressing, and only unbuttoned two to reach into your bra and pull out the folded piece of paper, “Got another little surprise.”

Kento regarded you amused (possibly wondering what else you kept in your bra) before picking the paper up between two fingers and inspecting it with dubious concern. “…It’s wet.”

“I was sweating, okay? It’s hot, now just open it.” You could’ve done without his commentary.

He obliged you, unfolding the receipt carefully before he let his eye roll over the numerous words written down in a row with instructions written next to each one of them, with precise quantities and times because you knew it had to be just perfect. He blinked as he read over them fast, an eyebrow quirking up before looking at you curious to what it all meant, “Ingredients and instructions?”

You leant into him, pressing your forehead against the side of his head and toying with the top two buttons of his shirt, “To your favorite sandwich. Now you or I can make it anytime you want, and be forever grateful to the girl working for giving it to me without an argument.”

His looked somewhat excited as he inspected the paper in his hand, yet the drone of his voice nearly made it sound like he couldn’t bring himself to care. You knew better though, he was just too embarrassed to show his obvious happiness to what you had got him, but the little sigh he let out before speaking was the same one he made whenever you gave him that book. “And how did you manage this?”

“I’m the master of ass-kissing.” (Read: you begged and promised you’d come back with him if she had given it to you.)

“True.”

You slapped his chest lightly and nearly squealed at his little smile, situating yourself in his lap as you turned to look at his favorite sandwich topped off with the gaudy candles that was slowly beginning to wither away before snatching the birthday hat you bought and slapping it atop his head. He looked cute whenever he was disgruntled, especially when the elastic to the hat slapped his chin, but it was even funnier watching his expression wither when you sat the kazoo on your tongue and blew into it right in his face and ear while expressing your excitement, yet again.

“Happy Birthday, Kento! Now blow out your candles and make a wish, birthday boy.”

A few moments passed, and you watched the gears in his head turn as he sat the paper down onto the table, and you nearly wanted to groan when you realized where he was going with his idea.

“Stop. Before you say anything else corny. You have to keep your wish to yourself and maybe it’ll come true.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but did as you asked and blew them out without a second thought. The amber glow of the day fading away as the sky outside turned to dusky purple and left you and Kento alone to enjoy it together, yet you watched curiously as he tore off a part on one half of the sandwich, his arm curling around you to keep you sat snugly in his lap before he brought up the piece and held it against your lips. His voice but yet another warm, soft murmur, mouthed into your cheek and his tongue nearly swiping along your skin.

“Wanna help me eat it?”

The moment you got done eating with him and moved to cleaning (to which you had to ban Kento from the kitchen whenever he tried to even think about helping) and while you had been cleaning, the faintest scent of cigarette smoke and Kento’s preferred cologne reached your nostrils, a thin trail of the smog wiggling into the living from the open balcony door letting you know that Kento had been outside on the balcony where he usually smoked. If there was one thing about him, it was that he was pristine about not letting any smoke come into contact with anything inside, wanting to smoke outside as he did it very rarely before, but after the accident Kento had taken up smoking more than usual. You had told him it wasn’t too good for his lungs, but you couldn’t do much when you remembered he mainly did it as a form of an anxiety reliever and whenever he was stressed… Besides, where he wasn’t too worried about his own health, he constantly fretted over your own and refused to smoke anywhere near where you could secondhand do it.

He never smoked long and when you walked out of the kitchen it wasn’t an odd sight to see him on the couch by then, one hand swirling a glass of whiskey from the bottle that sat on your centerfold table with the blue bow around the neck (courtesy of Mr. Satoru, even adding a little note that said, “Happy Birthday! With Love, Gojo <3” combined with his own chibi drawing of himself throwing up peace signs) with the ice cubes clinking against the rim and his nose already buried in the book you had bought him. He was a sight to behold as well, his bright hair pushed back onto his head with the very small telling sign of a five o’clock shadow growing along his jawline that would be gone as soon as the morning came, his shirt having been deftly unbuttoned to grow accustomed to the heat coming from outside and his skin beginning to finally wane away from that sunburn he had gotten from the trip you two had gone on to Milan two weeks before.

He truly was beautiful, inside and outside, but it was heartbreaking to see him sometimes avoid mirrors or from going out into public on the days he was feeling particularly bad.

You didn’t take long to join him, the soft music he had put on soothing your ears as you eyed the sharpness of his jawline sculpted and shadowed from the sky outside and sat down on your side of couch. You stretched your legs out and toed at his thigh, appreciating his loose slacks on his figure while grabbing his attention, “You like the book?”

“Mm, very much. Thank you again.”

“I’m glad, you had been eyeing it for a while so I knew I just had to buy whenever you wouldn’t…” you reclined back into the many throw pillows on the couch (something was your doing as Kento had been the one to pick out the style and layout of the apartment, but you were giving the reigns to decorations as you seemed fit – especially if the fuzzy throw rug beneath you two spoke for anything) watching his eye move over every word and wondering if he was truly content to stay inside with you for the night. You bit the bullet in the end, knowing you’d only worry yourself to death over him if you didn’t ask. “You sure you don’t wanna go out anywhere else? Gojo and Shoko did invite us to that restaurant you like.”

He peered at you for a long moment before sighing, closing his book and set both it and his drink onto the end table next to him and grabbing your ankles to pull your feet into his lap to rub at them, “I’m more than glad to stay here and spend the night with you. Knowing Gojo he’ll tell the waiters it’s my birthday and I’ll have to sit there and endure that God awful singing… Besides,” he threw his back onto the edge of the couch, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the hard swallow he took as he massaged a particular knotted spot in your foot, “I’m not really one for attention like that.”

Kento never was one for going out into public for celebrations, sure he would occasionally go out to eat and take you out on a date for your anniversary, and he also always made sure to have plans for your birthday, but never was one really for his celebrating his own. You had learned even as a child his mother normally baked him a cake on the day as he and his family celebrated it at their home; a quiet and mundane tradition he seemed to want to carry on into his adult life, and you had no problem obliging that. Kento never minded if only a few people gave him birthday wishes, but a part of you wondered if his newfound insistence to remain home on certain days was still the effect to what had happened to him in Shibuya. He had not seen Gojo in over a year, and the rest that remained even less, but you knew retirement meant usually staying away from all things that were work.

Sure you could hear Gojo’s voice over the phone at times, and you could hear Ijichi asking how he was at times in the night, and it was even better whenever you watched his phone light up with the name Itadori Yuji with text messages, but you knew only talking to them over the phone could only last so long and Kento had to at least go and see them when they all worried over him and constantly asked you about him. Not that you were annoyed over it, but more-so worried Kento was starting to shut himself out again from everyone and keeping his distance from everyone. You supposed he thought his birthday would come and go once more, just another day on the calendar to him and he could continue living out as the years passed and he was at peace with himself.

You weren’t going to dally on it, instead taking in his form that looked more taut with tension than it had been in a while as you preyed upon the slight sheen resting atop his collarbones. It had been awhile since you and Kento had been intimate, something that took some time to open him up to again and something that was still a hit-or-miss situation when it came down to him wanting to indulge in carnal desire, but you never pressed him for it to just instead opting to wait it out whenever he was ready. Though sex had been somewhat different from Kento at times taking you from behind as much as he could, to him not even thinking of himself as he buried his face into you and ate your pussy until you were crying from overstimulation and couldn’t take it anymore, you never really got the chance to worship him much like he did you.

Kento needed to relax, take all worry off his shoulders if just for the time being and enjoy life as he could in the moment. You weren’t about to let that opportunity pass up either whenever you had the chance on a day you were dead-set on showing him all the appreciation and love.

“Then –” you broke the silence, watching him reopen his eye to peek at you first before you wiggled your feet out of his grasp and spread your legs apart as an invitation, “something else for the night?” you asked coyly, refraining from biting your lip when you watched his chest rise and fall from the heavy exhale he took once the skin of your inner thighs came into his view.

You had thought he’d perhaps politely decline again, telling you he’s not feeling up to it for the night, but you were mildly surprised when he moved for you, his body rolling off from his position as he found himself lowered down in-between your legs. You blinked at how fluidly he moved, having little to no time to even react yourself when he was already there, one on your legs hoisted up over his shoulder as he pressed the other one down into the sofa cushion. He was still gentle as ever; his hand skimming along your inner thighs, his cheeks brushing along your skin as you felt the roughness from the light facial hair and burnt remains on the left side of his face, and of course his lips finding their way to kiss every single inch of you he could until he got to where he wanted to be most.

You were nearly ready to just let him have it that way, your clit already throbbing in anticipation when you remembered just how good Kento was at eating you out and how good it felt when he knew just how to bob his nose along your clit, but you remembered that it wasn’t about you that night and you were set on a mission to make him feel the most good instead of his usual lenience to cater to you most of all. Kento kissed and sucked at a spot on your inner thigh for a brief moment, his fingers creeping up to find the edge of your panties before your hands shot down and one curled around his wrist and the other tangled into the locks of his hair in a gentle squeeze. You had done it in the heat of the moment to keep yourself from drowning into him; a knee-jerk reaction that made Kento balk and nearly push himself away from you if you hadn’t spoke for your intentions.

“Wait – not like this.”

Sneaking a peak down to him you almost wanted to reassure him from the slightly cautious look in his eye, his chin dipping back into his chest nearly like he was afraid to get to close to you again without knowing exactly what you wanted from him as he spoke slowly and so quietly you wanted to sigh at his brief relapse of insecurity.

“You don’t want me to eat you out?”

This man… It wasn’t that at all. You frowned, cheeks warm despite your annoyance to completely ignore himself and swatted at him from between your legs, “Are you forgetting today isn’t about me?”

Kento had the gall to look confused, brow knitted and cheeks turning pink as his lips fell into a thin line, “I always eat your pussy when we have sex.” Why did he have to say it like he was droning on about workplace harassment to Gojo again? Not only that, he nearly looked like he was ready to pout he couldn’t face dive into your pussy and drown himself in there like he was drinking from the scared rivers of Eden.

You leant back on your elbows and rolled your eyes, your skirt sliding up as you did and leaving you reeling in the slight satisfaction you got watching his eyes dart down for brief second to catch a glimpse of the panties you put on for him, and slid your leg off of his shoulder, “Yes, I know, and I do brag about it to my friends a lot –” He nearly looked mortified before rolling his eye. “ – but that’s not the point. Today I just wanna give you the appreciation you deserve…”

Kento only blinked at your words, his eye glazing over for a moment before he looked damn near ashamed and shy from his spot in-between your legs and released his hold on your thighs to sit back upright on the couch. He kept his body open however, legs spread and arms open to invite you into him, but you could still see the slight stiffness present in his shoulders as he sat there awaiting you into his arms. He swallowed once, looking unsure for but a brief moment, before he gave you his verbal consent that he wanted to continue, knowing you weren’t going to move unless you knew he wanted you to.

“Come here.”

You offered him a small smile in return before crawling over to him, not finding yourself in his lap just then as you gave him yet another kiss to cheek and trailed on over to his ear lobe, whispering into his ear in a churning murmur to let him know your true thoughts. “Something else for the night?” Only a rumbling hum was your answer, the heat behind your naval already burning with unbridled want as he leaned back fully and let you straddle his lap, your knees digging into the cushions of the couch and you breasts pushed up against the broadness of his own as you snuck your fingers up to his face once more. You were tracing over his brow bone when he answered you, a mumble as soft as the sheets felt whenever he took you on your wedding night and you fully became husband and wife with the kiss that you had dreamt of for years.

“Okay… Something else this time.”

Kento’s breath stuttered the moment you moved over to his eyepatch, meeting that one umber iris for a second before you got the approval and were able to remove it with his permission. You discarded it next to the both of you as you leaned in to place a soft kiss to where his left eye used to sit, his chest heaving with a hiccupping sigh as you moved a hand to comb through his hair and trailing down to trace his jawline with only but your fingertips. You didn’t waste any time to move your lips down to his own, planting a slow kiss there with as much passion as you always did because the scars never really did bother you, nor did the mismatched feeling of his mouth on your own or sucking along your skin turn you off to him in anyway whatsoever. It was a slow song you teetered to, opening up your arms to him as you swayed in front of him gently opening him up to the idea until he got comfortable to get up and join you.

When his hand landed on your lower back to knead in your skin and muscle with his knuckles, you knew he was complying to let you take control for the night and cater to him much like he did you all those times. Though he was still somewhat unsure as his sigh shakily and ran a finger up your spine while speaking into your kiss, “Can… can we just go slow… Just be easy tonight; no rush. And nothing too intense.”

You leant up to kiss his forehead, a sheen of light sweat making itself known on his skin there, and pushed his hair behind his ear as you answered, “Of course. Anything you want.”

You could smell the smoke and whiskey as he blew a breath of relief into your face, his mouth finding yours again for another kiss, “Thank you.”

You pulled away from his lips and cupped his cheeks, smiling against his lips as you whispered against them just what you thought about him, “You’re pretty.”

Within your palms you could feel his cheeks warm and watched his eyebrow tick upwards at the compliment, the evidence of his embarrassment there despite how steady his voice remained when he answered you, “I don’t think that word suits someone like me.”

“Don’t deflect,” you sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth as you knew good and well that he knew why you were saying it, “You’re handsome; beautiful; other-worldly… How about those?”

Kento’s face was visibly turning redder as you named off every word that you could to describe him, his fingers knotting in the back of your shirt as he balled it up and you felt his jaw shake to formulate a response. When he seemed unresponsive you settled for a kiss you placed onto his jawline to ease him, your fingers sliding down along his neck and collarbones until you found the buttons of his shirt and began plucking them free as his hands returned to smoothing out along your back. Sometimes it was better to play into Kento’s body language with your own, as he was a man of very few words at times and it was an easier route to show him your comfort through actions pertaining towards your delicate nature towards him instead of words that would only fluster and overstimulate him.

He let you map out his body as you pulled his shirt apart, fingertips gentle as they ran over the more predominate area of his skin covered in scars and lost skin. You could feel the uncertainty in his taut muscles, the desire to perhaps cover himself back up from the way you were following the moments of your fingers along his skin with your eyes, and you had to stop yourself for a moment as when you skimmed his abdomen it flexed harshly as you brushed across a long wounded scar from a fight years before the accident. You looked back up to him from underneath you eyelashes, his head having tipped back a fraction as you eased him back to look at you and to only admire his features in the violet dusk from outside for a moment before you remembered you had to keep up the reassurance.

“Is this okay?” you asked, running a thumb underneath the eye and enjoying the feeling of his eyelashes kissing your skin whenever he blinked.

You gauged his reaction as he held your gaze, something glimmering in the lonely iris as his pupil dilated when he stared for seconds longer and sighed shakily before finally answering, “It’s okay.”

It was the reassurance and encouragement you needed, keeping your touch light as you wiggled back onto his lap but a few inches and your hand on his hip trailed down to his pants, enough to reach and see what you had been easing him into already showing through his loose slacks. You spread your fingers across his pectoral, his heartbeat steady against your palm as you cupped him through his pants, running a finger along what you knew what the tip and switching to full on rubbing him through the cloth when you heard the sigh leave him as you touched him.

“Still okay?” you repeated once more, experimentally wrapping your fingers around what you could of his cock and squeezing him. Your skin prickled whenever he groaned softly, a pant on the edge of his tongue as your stomach twisted with phantom butterflies when you remembered all the breathy noises he would make in your ear and neck when he was losing himself to your touch or inside of you.

“Still okay,” he answered, his head falling back onto the back of the couch again and causing your hand to drift up towards the waistband of his pants when you took it as a sign to continue further and take the next step. You hummed as you leaned into him, pressing a kiss in the middle of his pectorals as you slid your hand into his pants and briefs fully to touch him.

His low sighs encouraged you, peppering kisses along his torso much like he did your own before in your own form of body worship. Once you got closer to his nipple and you allowed your lips to close around it for you to suck on, a higher-pitched noise sounding like a whine leaving him as he gave a full body jerk. You latched off his hardened nipple and blinked coyly up at him, watching as he kept his eyes on the ceiling and his parted, pink lips continuing to match the coloring on his cheeks while your hand finally pulled his cock free from his pants into the open air and for your eyes to see.

It was already deepening into a red, his veins engorged as it throbbed in your hand and you traced a finger along the vein protruding from the underside of him. You only watched with an inward sigh as precum began to leak from his head, feather-light touches you kept along the sensitive region as he jerked his hips underneath you while you lubed your hand up with his fluids, and whines disguised as hisses escaped through his clenched his teeth when you swirled your thumb along his tip the way you knew he liked it.

His tone was slightly shaky when he spoke again, chest heaving and his fingers digging into your shirt, “Don’t tease. Please – just touch me.” He was perhaps a bit too whiney for his own liking as his breathing began to speed up when you dipped back down to kiss along his chest and fully wrap your hand around his cock to jerk him off, but you realized he was in no place to necessarily to care when you were easing into comforted euphoria once more.

You hummed against his hot skin, amping up your ministrations a bit as you closed your teeth around the nipple you had in your mouth in a playful bite and only letting up when you heard the soft groan he gave while hips lifted marginally off the couch. You pressed a kiss to it afterwards before beginning to slide your lips down to kiss sweetly along the rest of his scars, and letting your hand fondle at his nipple instead, squeezing, tugging and all around fondling it as you kissed and sucked around rest of his body while your hand kept up a steady rhythm up and down his cock.

With Kento’s soft groans, slight whining, pants egging you on, you kissed some of the old, fading scars tenderly only knowing they existed in the times you spent tracing a finger around his skin those nights you spent cuddling. You kissed them with an overwhelming amount of affection, a reminder that he was still gorgeous with them and a reminder that he was strong enduring even the harshest of battles and coming out from them alive. He blew air through his mouth then again, a sigh so soft and full of longing it made you realize he had never been given attention towards his body like that without it being blatant ogling at his chest straining against his shirts.

Each kiss you placed onto his warm skin made you sigh afterwards, discreetly inhaling his scent each time you did so for how good he smelled and how his natural scent brought you comfort more than you could imagine. As you felt along his body, you began to feel the jittery nerves he had before slowly begin crawl back into the depths of his mind to be forgotten for the time and to be replaced with the carnal lust and the burning affection you both held for each other.

A grunt fell out of him and his hand flew up to grip your nape when you felt him twitch from the all the overwhelming attention, pulling your body closer to him than you thought was possible as he maneuvered your head back up to him so that his breath sifted across and into your ear. You squirmed from the sensation as it made you rock your hips onto his lap when you remembered all the dampness present in your underwear and it was something he caught onto as it was beginning to seep through your panties and onto his pants.

Kento’s thumb rubbed at your nape, his lips pressing a kiss to ear lobe before he spoke, “You can’t sit here and only think about me,” his fingers left your back and you felt them dance along your inner thigh, creeping up your skirt and towards your panties as you kissed at his jaw once more, “Do you want me to touch you?”

You latched off of his skin and moved to slightly bite his earlobe, hotly whispering into his ear while your hand slowly picked up a pace, “It’s not about me.”

He was ever persistent though – a blessing to have a man like him more worried about your pleasure than his own in some cases, but also terribly inconvenient in situations like you were in then when you wanted to be the one in charge and making him feel good before yourself. His hand moved to grip your hip, his breaths falling from parted lips by then and his hips rocking upwards the follow the way you pumped his cock, “But –” he started off, a whine barely there hidden underneath his wavering voice of reason.

“It’s okay. Just relax,” you cut him off, reassuring him as you lifted up on your knees a fraction to maneuver your body to have his one thigh trapped between your legs. Kento only watched you as you slowly plopped down onto his thigh, your panties all but soaked by then and your clit tingling for attention as you leisurely rocked once and sighed whenever you felt your nerves calm down a fraction from the heated pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to build up a lethargic pace, and Kento only groaned in approval when he watched you start to ride his thigh, his arm wrapping around you to cage you closer into him and tensing and flexing his thigh whenever rolled down and back up atop him.

One of your hands slid up to his shoulder, gripping him there as you nuzzled into his neck and followed the moments of your hand pumping his cock to the way your hips were rolling against his thigh. Your body moved in alternate pivots, long deep strokes around that taut, muscular appendage, or just circling your hips around so that your clothed clit was given the friction it so desired. He was burning in your hand, the veins throbbing and his lips pushing out every noise he could muster as you knew he wouldn’t last long; it had been far too long since you got Kento in that position and it had been far too long since had allowed himself to be laid upon a bed of pleasure. It made you sigh, legs closing around his thigh tighter as you rubbed your knee oh-so gently in a circle along his balls and had to bite your lip from moaning whenever that fucking whimper left him and made your pussy clench around nothing.

Your words drew another one of those damnable whimpers out of him, his chest all but heaving and his hips rocking desperately faster up into your hand as a silent plea for you to go faster. You only hummed in delight at his keening, peppering kisses across every inch of his face that you could and massaging your hand into the tautness along his shoulder when he seemed to melt into your touch. You could feel another thick trickle of precum ooze free from his cock, and you moved your face back into his to bring your foreheads together, a flutter erupting free inside of your pussy whenever Kento kept his eye locked onto yours, following each mouthwatering movement you gave to him and onto him and the look inside of his pupil was enough to set your entire soul ablaze from all the hues of passion bursting free like a kaleidoscope the longer he kept your gaze.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you took in his expression; kiss-swelled parted lips, his eye bright, clouded, and dilated, flustered cheeks, brow scrunched in an attractive crease, and the heavy sighs leaving his mouth as he bored his gaze over every inch of your face. It shouldn’t have turned you on as much as did knowing that he was glad to have you pleasing him like you were, but seeing his face really careened you down the path of your impending release that was growing oh-so close.

You could feel the patch of wetness you were leaving on his thigh, and you knew then that you weren’t going to last long – especially having Kento in your palm and riding off the thrill of you being in charge that time around in the throes of desire.

Kento sighed your name onto your lips, another whimper drawing free of him as his cock throbbed into his hand and his hand fell off of your nape to grip your hip and following in on your lascivious movements atop his thigh. “Please – Don’t stop.”

You kissed him before nibbling onto his bottom lip, nails beginning to dig through his shirt when each roll of your clit sent an electrifying pulse towards that knot steadily growing to its head just behind your naval. He groaned again whenever you pumped your hand faster, your knee gently caressing his balls still as you rocked yourself on his thigh before you sighed and breathily asked what you knew would tip him over the edge, “Are you gonna cum for me, Kento?”

A garbled variation of your name left him, fingers digging harder into your hip as his hips jerked up quicker in your hand and he tried his damnedest to get you to move faster – harder against his thigh, but you were giving no game for that. His Adam’s apple bobbed with the audible hard swallow he took, his eye fluttering with the heavy blinks from everything happening as his eye glazed over with the full emotion that was close to his release. “Oh, fuck – please. Please keep going.

“I know you can cum like this,” you moaned into his face, kissing him as you swallowed that whimper once more and rolled your hips harder along his tensed thigh, moving your mouth to suck at his jaw whenever his noises grew louder, “God, I know you want to, Kento. Let me see you cum like this.”

Your voice had tapered off at the end, a high-pitched moan leaving you when you pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing as you felt that ball begin to reach in end of spinning and slowly begin to unravel for a piece of nirvana you could find with him. His grunts you swallowed with your tongue, a kiss full of unbridled passion you two engaged in that he greedily accepted as you two no longer had any words to say. You both knew what was to come, and neither of you were going to be deterred to stop it.

Your neediness you were sure had him reeling, his cock throbbing excessively in your hand as you squeezed him and pumped him faster to help him reach his edge. You could feel him whimper again, a suspicious noise that vaguely sounded like him telling you he loved you before he broke away from the kiss, head falling back against the couch once more and a pleased and strained groan breaking free from his lungs to let you know he had came first. You took to kissing and tonguing at his neck, moaning and sighing your praise for him as he finally released all the pent up tension into your hand.

It was a second and then you felt his cock pulsate in your hand before it was spurting out against your shirt and hand, leaving behind warm cum in its wake. You quickly removed your hand knowing he was probably sensitive, but kept yourself securely atop his thigh rocking as he caught his breath. Kento’s chest was heaving and in the low light of your living room you were able to make a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead with his hair tussled from all your ministrations. It was enough to send you over as well, a particular slow roll of your hips up his thigh that he flexed once more and you were shuddering and twitching around him with a whine of his name as you came all over his thigh whilst throwing your arms around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.

A hard tremor of extreme satisfaction stung from your cranium down to the tips of your toes, leaving you squirming as your shaking thighs tried to close around his own while he continued only encouraging you until you were at your very end and sagging into his awaiting arms. You were well aware you had probably soaked through pants, but you were none too caring since he didn’t seem to mind at all and at times it was a regular occurrence between you two. The soft music from before was still playing as the room became humid from your conjoined bodies, the city skyline having waned away to dark as the touch of the full moon came into play and brightened Tokyo for yet another time.

You could feel your heart pound against your ribcage while you both seemed to finally come to rest after cumming, and he was dragging your body off his own to look over you and blinking down at you like he wasn’t seeing you clearly. It was one blink, two, three, then the cloud in his eye lifted and his gaze was skating down from your face and all over the expanse of your figure, awareness coming to them when he spied the mess on your shirt and remembered that he came all over your hand, then he was bristling.

Kento was shifting to sit up, taking precaution to not jostle you and his words coming out a low murmur, “Sorry… I’ll –”

You hushed him, placing a kiss to his lips and untangling yourself from his limbs and you stood somewhat wobbly and he reached forward to catch you by your hips to make sure you didn’t fall. You brushed out of his hands and pushed him back to sit into the couch, a soft smile on your lips before you straightened back up, “You’re okay, stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Kento was generally the one who took to cleaning you both up afterwards, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him be the one to do so that time around when you were trying to make him feel the same way he usually did with you. He had complied you with staying put as you came back from the bathroom with a few sheets of tissues, eyeing you carefully as you wiped your hand off first before tending to him. You were meticulous in the way you catered to him, dabbing at some cum stains that had gotten onto his stomach, even some spots that had spattered against his chest before tending to the lipstick stains all over him as you watched his cheeks flush from all the attention you were giving him.

You nearly wanted to giggle at his embarrassment, but held it in to not ruin the gentle moment between you two as you finished up cleaning the both of you, discarded the tissues into the trash, and crawled your way back into his lap that he was awaiting for you once more with open arms. You curled into him as his hand stroked along your back, your own hands finding way to his scars again as you absentmindedly would do at night whenever he was tremoring from a long-lost memory. Kento shuddered when you passed by that one on his side again, curling his fingers around your wrist to bring it up his lips for kiss as you pulled yourself up into his face.

“Happy Birthday,” you reminded him again, kissing his hot cheek and relishing in the soft sigh he gave, “What’d you wish for?”

You were glad to see the humor return back to his expression, his lips quirking up at the edges and his eye sliding into yours as he reached for your cheek to pinch it, “Aren’t you the one who told me not to tell you my wish? That it’ll come true if I don’t say it aloud?”

A pout fell on your lips, “That’s never stopped you before… C’mon, please? For me?”

His eye rolled back at your whining, but he was never one not to cave into your begging as his hand smoothed out against your cheek while you toyed with a strand of his hair that had curled up from sweat. His thumb brushed along your cheekbone and he made a show to slowly move his mouth back to yours, lidding his eye almost suggestively as he kissed you so delicately and murmured against your mouth so silently you had to strain to hear him.

“I wished that I could spend the rest of my birthdays with you.”

You giggled into the kiss, corny as you expected, but also giddy with the intention behind his wish as you took your hand to place it back onto his chest, fingers spread and his heart beating in sync with your own. It was enough to let him know you wished for the same, but you confirmed it verbally with a playful bite to his lip and a sigh when you embraced him and tucked him into your neck, his lips pulled into a smile something you could feel burning along your throat.

“I think we can make that work.”

#{🩸} nee fics #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #jjk nanami #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento smut

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quintinh43 · 9 months ago

Text

Heavy Heads and Heavy Hearts | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn gets injured as a game. His girlfriend takes him and cares for him.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, Head injury, food, angst, mentions of vomiting (no actual vomiting)

Notes: Hi guyss! Hope everyone is doing ok! Injured Quinn got the most votes, so here we are! This one is the longest one ive done so far, I definitely did not mean for it to be as long as it is but here we are. Also, im not a professionl in any way, so i cant say this is concussion accurate. I just went off of my experience in dealing with athletes that have Concussions, and my own Concussions lol. Anywaysss I hope yall enjoy. Love Soph.

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There was something so gut-wrenching about watching the man you love get injured. One second, Quinn was cutting quickly around the back of the net, and the next, he was getting slammed into the boards hard. It was nothing. You get hit, you get up, and you keep going. It was simply a part of hockey.

Except this time, Quinn wasn't getting up. He wasn't moving at all. You stand up, heart in your throat. The room feels like it's tilting. The sharp shrill of the refs whistle cut through the air, stopping the play as the refs skate over to where Quinn is lying motionless on the ice.

They are calling for medics. Your head is spinning with the worst possible scenarios as you excuse yourself from your seat and practically sprint to the locker room. One of the security members holds out a hand to stop you.

"Ma'am, you can't be here, please exit this area"

Great. Just fucking great. This is exactly what you need right now. The overwhelming need that aches in your bones demanding to know that Quinn is ok makes you want to cry. Because now this fucker won't let you through. And you're nearly too panicked to do anything about it.

The logical route would be pulling out Quinns wallet, that has his ID in it, and explaining that you are his girlfriend. But with your anxiety high, and your heart in your throat logic is not the first thing on your mind.

"Listen buddy," you start, ready to absolutely rip this guy a new one. Thankfully for him, one of the trainers who knows you happens to be exiting the locker room.

"Let her through, Jace, that's Hughes' girl" he says, waving you forward. The security guard- Jace apparently, lets you pass with a grumble.

By the time you get rink side, Quinn is (half) conscious- thank God, and being half carried off the ice by Petey and Boeser. He's transfered to the care of two medics, who sit him on a bench and begin to check him over.

One of them is asking him questions gently, both to keep him awake and assess the damage to his head. While the other stabilizes his neck. "Can you tell me your full name and today's date?" One of the medics asks.

"Quintin Jerome Hughes," he slurs, eyes fluttering, "its Feb'uary... twenty-second, twenty-twenty-four"

Your breath hitches. He got the date wrong. You can't help the panic that rushes through you. "Good job Quinn, do you know where you are?"

"Van, Roger's arena," he mumbles, "playing hockey"

"Good," the medic hums. "we need to take off your equipment to make sure you aren't injured anywhere else. Is that ok?"

"Y/n" he mumbles, eyes closing and head tilting forward, his head snapped back up a moment later, and if the other medic hadn't had his head stabilized he would probably have mild whiplash.

"Stay awake for us, Quinn. Is Y/n someone you'd like us to call?"

You spring forward at the mention of your name, "I'm here," you say, pushing past a couple of people who are standing around, ready to assist if the situation gets worse.

"My girl" Quinn slurs, his lips tilting into a small smile. Your heart flutters at that. In the midst of his delirium, he still cares about you dearly.

"Hello Y/n, I'm Sam," the guy who's been asking him questions, "and that's Kieran," he says, nudging his head towards Kieran, who gives a small smile.

"Do you think you could help us remove his equipment?"

"Yes absolutely, just tell me what to do" you say, glad that you can help.

"Can you remove his jersey and shoulder pads? Kieran needs to keep his neck stable, and I need to check for any other possible injuries. And keep him talking"

"Yeah, of course," you start by bending his elbow to slide it out of the sleeve of his jersey.

"Hey Quinny" you say softly, sliding his other arm out of his jersey "you played really really good today, I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks baby," he murmers, "glad you're here." He tries to lean his head against your chest, he huffs when Kieran doesn't let him, and you can't help but let out a breathy laugh, patting his head lovingly.

Kieran tilts his head to one side, allowing you to pull the jersey over his head. You deposit it in his cubby behind him and make quick work undoing his shoulder pads and pulling them off gently.

"I'm glad I'm here too. What do you wanna eat when we get home?"

Sam gently asks you to move out of the way so he can check Quinns upper body for injuries. The second you aren't doing something, the anxiety rises back to your chest. You take a deep breath and begin to unlace his skates. You pull them off, slipping a pair of slides on his feet so his socks don't get wet.

"Hmm" he hums in thought "potatos...?"

You laugh, "Alright Quinny. We'll have potatos"

Finally after palpating his whole body to make sure he doesn't have any other major injuries, testing his reflexes, and asking him a bunch more questions. They diagnose him with a minor concussion, and give you a list of things to look out for.

They deem it safe enough to leave you alone with him for a little bit and tell you to change him into something more comfortable. It takes a bit of work to take off his hockey pants and shinguards and get him into a pair of sweats and a hoodie.

By the time you're done, the equipment manager and the medics have collected the rest of his equipment. After making sure his hockey bag is fully packed with everything, you grab his keys from your purse, while the EM helps you bring his bag to his car, and the medic helps you half carry him down.

He can mostly walk on his own, but better safe than sorry. On the ride home he keeps his head resting against the window, a cool compress is wrapped around his neck, and he's holding one over his eyes with one hand, while the other holds yours tightly.

You trace your thumb over the backs of his knuckles soothingly and keep him talking the whole way home. "What kind of potatoes do you want when we get home, Hon?"

"Can I change my mind?" He asks sheepishly. He's still talking very quietly and slurring his words a little, but the medics said that was nothing to worry about unless he started getting worse. So far, it was nothing to worry about.

"Of course my love, anything you want" you bring your intertwined hands to rest on your chest. It's a comforting weight over your heart, that you didn't know you needed until it was there.

Your phone lights up from the cup holder, it's a text from Petey, saying that the Canucks won the game. There are a few other texts, from his parents and brothers. You make a mental note to reply to them as soon as you get Quinn settled at home.

"Can we have noodles?" He mumbles.

"Yes, of course, love." You can't help but kiss the back of his knuckles. Watching Quinn get injured to the point of losing consciousness was not something you ever wanted to experience ever again.

"Your boys won, by the way," you say softly.

"The did?!" Quinns head shoots up front the window, and he is filled with instant regret as a sharp twinge shoots down his neck and to his shoulder.

"Ow fuck" he mumbles, laying his head back against the cool window.

"Careful love," you gasp, squeezing his hand.

"I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, squeezing your hand back. You sigh, you have been on edge since he got injured, and it didn't look like the anxiety would dissipate for a while. You would just have to deal with it and try not to be an over bearing worry wart.

"You guys won 5-2" you smile, finally pulling into your apartment parking lot.

"I didn't do much except get my brains knocked around" he grumbles. "Some captain I am"

You scoff, flicking him in the nose lightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Quinny. Three of those points are yours."

Quinn wrinkles his nose and leans forward to bite your finger. You yelp, snatching it away with a glare. He sticks his tongue out at you, and you laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter than before.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs. " You say, undoing your seat belt and getting out of the car. You run around to his passenger side and open the door for him, and help him step out of the car. He throws an arm over your shoulder, and you wrap one around his waist. He's not as wobbly on his feet as he was earlier, but he still isn't at full strength.

Quinn squeezes his eyes shut and tucks his face against your hair. The florescent elevator lights were not pleasant in his state. "Can we keep the apartment lights off?" He mumbles against your hair.

"Sure love," you said rubbing your hand up and down his back soothingly, "we're almost home," you fish the keys out of your purse and unlock it. You toe your shoes off at the door while Quinn slips his off easily and you guide him to the couch.

"What do you want first, baby? Food or a shower?"

"I'm not really hungry" Quinn mumbles, laying on the couch and adjusting the ice pack under his neck. You sit on the couch handle, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "I know honey, but we should try to get something light in your system, if you're feeling upto it."

Quinn sighs. He knows you're right. "I can make you toast? Or a sandwich or something?" You offer, smoothing your thumb over his hairline.

"Do we have bagles?" He asks

"Yeah, we have bagles, I'll make you one of those?"

"Yes please," he mumbles, you plant a kiss on his forehead and go pop a bagle into the toaster, "can you do it with cream cheese and jam?" He asks, chewing on his lip nervously.

"Sure, Hon, I'm gonna make myself some tea. Do you want a cup?" You ask as you pull the cream cheese and jam out of the fridge.

"No thanks, I'm ok" he mumbles. After his bagle is done being made, you help ease him into sitting position, and sit next to him with your cup of tea. He eats a bit more than half the bagle, and you finish off the rest before deeming it time to shower.

You remember all the messages from his family, and quickly shoot them texts, saying that he's ok and you just got home and you'll talk more when he gets settled.

"I'm gonna put these back in the freezer while we shower, yeah?"

Quinn nods, handing the ice packs to you to put in the freezer. You help him up slowly and lead him to the bathroom. You keep the lights off and leave the door open so you have a little bit of light from the bedroom.

While the shower warms up, you grab a clean change of clothes for both you and Quinn and set them on the counter before helping Quinn strip. He has to brace an arm against the wall while you hold him steady with one hand and maneuver his clothes off with the other.

"I'm sorry," he murmers against your hair as you help him step into the shower.

"Oh Quinn, there's nothing to be sorry for," you say, sitting him on the shower seat.

"I'm sorry you have to take care of me like this." He huffs, resting his head against the cool Ike of the shower wall, "I feel so pathetic, " his voice cracks, and your heart nearly breaks.

"Quinn, my love, taking care of you is not a burden. It's a pleasure. I love you to the ends of the earth, and I would do anything for you, my sweets. " You kiss him on the forehead sweetly as if to prove your point.

He doesn't say much about it after that, but you can tell he still feels bad. You make quick work of washing his hair, being very careful of where a small bump has formed on his head. You scrub him down and rinse him off before shutting off the water.

You wrap a towel around yourself and then dry Quinn off gently before helping him change into his pajamas. "Let me change and then dry your hair a little bit before we have to put an ice pack on your head, ok?"

Quinn nods. He sits on the counter, leaning against the wall while you change into your pajamas. You plug in the hair dryer and dry his hair, keeping his head steady with one hand. As soon as his hair is no longer soaking wet, you help him off the bathroom counter and into bed. You grab the ice packs from the freezer and help him position them on his head and neck until he's comfortable.

"I'll be back in less than ten minutes, baby. I'm just going to grab your stuff from the car, ok?" You say pulling on a pair of sweats and a hoodie over your pajamas.

"Ok" Quinn mumbles, "I'll call if anything" he says patting his nightstand to make sure his phone is there.

You kiss him on the forehead and pull the bedroom door halfway closed so the light from the hall isn't too bright. Grabbing his car keys and your phone from the counter, you hit the call button on Ellen's contact as you slip out the door.

She picks up on the first ring "Hows he doing?" She asks immediately. She sounds distressed, maybe like she's been crying. You don't blame her. They probably haven't heard anything unless someone on the team contacted them, and you have no idea how bad it looked on TV.

"He's ok, Mrs. H, it's a mild concussion. His symptoms aren't worsening at all, and they said with some rest he'll be significantly better by tomorrow"

Her sigh of relief was unmatched. "He'll be out of play for a couple of weeks, but they just want to make sure he's back to 100% before he's playing again." The elevator finally opens, and you hit the button for the parking garage.

"Thank you so much, Y/n, im glad you're there with him. I know he's in good hands. I'll leave you be love, Jack and luke are super super anxious and would appreciate a call from you. Text me if anything happens."

"I will, Mrs. H, tell Mr. H I say hi"

"I will dear, thanks for taking care of our boy"

"Of course El, he's my boy too," you smile.

You swear you can hear Ellen smile over the phone. "We love you dear, I'll talk to you tomorrow ok. Don't forget to take care of yourself too"

"I will, I love you guys too. I'll text you updates"

"Alright, bye dear."

"Bye," you sigh, pressing the end call button, just as the elevator opens to the parking garage. As you press the button to open the trunk, you call Jack.

"Y/n," he huffs out, not even after a full ring. "How's Quinn? If he ok? What happened?" Before you can answer any of Jacks questions, Luke's voice cuts him off, "is Quinn ok? Are you guys at the hospital? It looked really bad -"

Before their panicked tangents can get worse, you interrupt them both. "Take a breath, you two," you say calmly, breathing exaggeratedly so they can copy you "in and out, relax. Quinn is ok. He's ok"

"He's ok?"

"He's ok" you repeat. You feel the tears start to build, and your voice cracks "He's ok"

"Oh Y/n." Jack says softly.

"It's ok, I'm ok" you say, more to yourself than to Jack as you wipe the tears away. "Hold on, gimme one sec." You say, setting down your phone as you pull Quinn's hockey bag out the car. You close the trunk, make sure the car is locked and head back to the elevator.

"Hi, sorry I'm back. I was just grabbing Quinn's stuff out the car."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Luke asks softly.

"He's got a concussion, and he's a bit bruised up, but other than that he's alright"

"Fuck, how bad is it?" Jack asks, the fear is evident in his voice, and you can't blame him. Concussions can be really bad sometimes.

"They said its a mild concussion, he's not throwing up at all, his memory is ok, he didn't injure his spine or anything, he'll be ok after a few days of rest. He probably wont be playing for a few weeks, but better safe than sorry."

"Oh thank God" both Jack and Luke huffed "isn't he not supposed to sleep for 24 hours after or something?" Luke asks.

You shake your head with a small smile "Thats a myth, Lukey. As long as I check on him every few hours its ok for him to sleep."

"Ohh, ok. Well that's good" Luke says.

"We are glad he has you Y/n, thank you for taking care of our brother."

"Always" you say softly.

"We'll let you go now, keep us updated?"

"I will, Jackie. You two get some rest, you have a big game tomorrow, love you guys"

"We love you too Y/n/n" both boys say, hanging up.

You sigh, leaving his bag at the door. "Y/n?" Quinns weak voice calls out from the bedroom. You rush to him immediately, scared that something is wrong.

"Yes, Quinny, I'm right here" you say kneeling beside the bed, and stroking his hair.

"You took long," he mumbles, pressing his lips against your wrist.

"I'm sorry love, I'm here now," you stand, stripping the hoodie and sweats off and climbing into bed next to him. You stay a little distance away, not wanting to hurt Quinn. But he grumbles at you, tugging on your shirt to get you to come closer. Normally, he would just grab you and pull you closer, but he's still weak.

"I don't wanna hurt you" you mumble, scooting closer so that you are tucked against his side. He tangles your legs together and rests his head against yours.

"Never" he says, pressing his lips to the side of your head. You rest one of your hands on his hip, under his shirt, stroking your thumb over his hip bone.

"How you feeling?" You ask softly.

"Beat" he mumbles "thanks for taking care of me"

"I'll take care of you for as long as you let me love" you say, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

---

Wc: 3.1k

#qh43 #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #luke hughes #vancover canucks #jack hughes #hockey #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl imagines #love soph

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mr-bas00nist · 21 days ago

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Hii! itz my bday and I was wondering if u could write a fic (or drabble if u want) of how u think jjk men (Nanami, Gojo, Toji, Sukuna, Choso) would celebrate it with top!m!reader (Sfw + nsfw is fine, whatever ur comfy with :)

feel free to ignore, I just luv ur fics ✨🏳️‍🌈

Happy belated omg, as an apology for taking so long with this I’m doing all of them lol :)

Celebration of You! Feat. Husband reader and the boys

Sukuna

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’s got a weird love language

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he kinda just ignores you in my opinion

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Its his way of showing that if he’s not killing your or belittling you, you did something right

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- on your birthday though, he makes an exception

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- sends uraume on their way to get you gifts while he just enjoys your presence

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll be more love dovey with you which is weird and new!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- but your birthday itself you two will just enjoy each other’s company in the quarters

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- I personally don’t think Sukuna is huge on sex tbh

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- not that he doesn’t like it, just to busy and doesn’t want to submit to his human/carnal desires

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- another exception he’ll make

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- if it makes you happy he’ll let you put your dick in his ass and make him sing happy birthday while fucking

Toji

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- broke ass nga 😭

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- nah im playing, but don’t be expecting no gifts

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- playing again, he’s bad with money but he’ll save up

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- nothing too expensive though, he’d probably just take you to your favorite restaurant while you two talk

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Can’t wait to get home, sucks you off in car 100%

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- then lets you shove his face into the door’s window as you rail him

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Yes people have seen, no he doesn’t care

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- night ends in cuddling

Nanami <3

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Oh Kento, oh Kento, where do I even begin

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- sweet baby angel is the best

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll wake you up with some breakfast and bed and tender kisses

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- maybe even a blowjob if he’s feeling it

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- All day is just filled with fun activities

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- making little clay figures in the house, baking together, watching tv

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- the perfect man

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- He’ll tell you all day how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Maybe even get up to some reading of those stupid books

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- you two definitely nap for a little bit

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- the night’s filled with a nice homemade dinner and some expensive wine or beer

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- While you’re finishing your food he gets on a nice tight lingerie he bought for this

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- puts his robe over it

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll pull you upstairs and let you undress him

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- even with all the fancy watches or things he’d buy you he’s still the best present

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll give you passionate head, them ride you to your hearts content

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- no working on your special day, it’s his job right now

Gojo

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- just buys you shit tbh

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- I know it’s always brought up but I think Gojo struggles with physicality to be fair

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- his money and status is sometimes the only way he thinks he can please you

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- which is a huge lie

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- but expect watches and new suits on your birthday

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Also lots of desserts and fancy dinner

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- in the restaurant he’s clawing you to fuck him in the bathroom

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- then after dinner you’ll bend him over the sink, hold his hair and watch him whine and cry

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Who gives a fuck about people hearing, he’s saved people’s asses enough to not care

Choso

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- very touchy with you

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- I think he’s always touchy because he stumbles on his words a lot

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- relationships are very new to him

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Will keep you in bed all day while you two just nap and relax with each other

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- lots of cuddle fucking and lazy sex

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- moans and groans of “I love you’s” and “feels so good”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Very chill day with him to be fair

A/n: just some drabbles lol, happy belated!

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lovelytsunoda · 2 months ago

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dancing in the dark | mick schumacher

summary: after her team gets totally ripped apart in court, yn returns home and changes into some comfy clothes, content to lounge on the couch for the rest of the evening. however, that flannel shirt drives mick crazy, and he has other plans

pairing: mick schumacher x law clerk!girlfriend! reader

warnings: 18+ content, cutesy smut, (seriously this smut should feel horny and like a warm hug at the same time), mick says some funny things. the lawyer referenced is mickey haller from 'the lincoln lawyer' because i fucking said so. (i literally just realized what i've done giving her boss and her lover the same name lmao i dont know any other tv lawyers so this stands and im making it part of the plot) it’s actually shorter and a lil less graphic than originally intended dont shot the messenger

court was rarely ever pretty, but usually yn could leave a courtroom feeling like she did the best she could.

not today. she was shaky as she left the courtroom, even after mickey haller, the lawyer that she worked for, assured her that she'd done nothing wrong.

"that was my mistake, not yours." he had insisted. "everything you put in that document i told you to. lorna and i checked it three times before i filed it."

of course, that did nothing to make her feel better as she drove back home, taking the rest of the afternoon off. mickey had insisted, which usually meant he had something to work on that he didn't want any help on.

when she pulled into her driveway, she dragged herself out of the small car, and into her empty house. mick was still out, presumably with the dog. he had training this morning, and then a meeting in the afternoon, so he had likely taken angie to his mothers.

still feeling off, she stripped out of her court clothes, donning her fuzzy socks and a plaid flannel top. she let her hair down from its tight bun, gently massaging her scalp before heading to the kitchen to make a mug of hot chocolate.

the file was still in her bag, along with a red-marked copy of the form that had been misfiled. the entire trial had to be postponed, so the haller camp was likely the most hated set of people in that courtroom.

she turned the kitchen radio on, a habit she had picked up from her grandparents. her grandfather loved seventies music, so there was always some don mclean or dolly parton playing in his house when she grew up. she herself preferred the eighties: inxs, springsteen, blondie, benatar.

she heard the front door open, followed by the sound of mick's duffel bag hitting the floor. she listened to his footsteps, and it was soon enough that she felt his arms wrapping around her waist.

"i thought you were in court today?" he mumbled, kissing her shoulder softly. she could smell his cologne, a musky and earthy scent. something inexpensive, for he saved the dior for special occasions.

"we got absolutely destroyed this morning over a misfield document with the courts, so mickey sent us all home to regroup."

truth be told, it was days like this one that had yn questioning why she'd even started this job in the first place. lately she'd had more bad days than good ones, but lorna had assured her that it would pass.

"you know what the great thing about being alive is?" mick said softly, taking her by the hand and gently spinning her to face him. "you can always try again tomorrow. nine times out of ten, there is always a second chance."

"i know you're right. i just feel guilty since i was the one who drafted the document." it didn't matter that mickey checked it and lorna filed it. she was the one who drafted it, so the error was hers.

"your lawyer checked it over, right? and he didn't see anything wrong with it?"

"yeah but-"

'no buts. i refuse to see my brilliant girlfriend be down on herself for something that isn't her fault."

she was about to protest again when mick swayed their bodies into a dance, slightly out of tune with the springsteen song that was playing from the corner. 'dancing in the dark'. it was their song. she smiled despite herself, laughing along and joining in with the dance. mick twirled her around the kitchen twice before hooking his hands under her thighs and lifting her into the air. she laughed in surprise, gripping his shoulder as he carried her over to the couch.

she giggled as he dropped her onto the couch, climbing over her and planting himself between her thighs. mick leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. she smiled into the kiss, exhaling softly as she unconsciously bucked against his crotch.

“you know this shirt drives me crazy, right?”

“this one?” she pursed her lips. “it’s almost a decade old. it’s the oldest shirt in my closet.”

mick grinned, strands of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he nuzzled his cold nose into the skin between her boobs. “you’re like a sexy lumberjack.”

she laughed as mick kissed over the flannel on her shirt, slowly making his way down to her exposed hip where the shirt had ridden up when he placed her on the couch. "what does that even mean?"

he pressed his nose against hers, her slender legs wrapping around his toned body. "hey, pretty girl. what can i do? how can i make you feel better?"

"mhm, i think i have an idea." she smiled shyly, running a finger down his chest.

"does it involve you screaming my name in pleasure?"

"why yes, i think it does."

laughing, mick kissed her again, gently nipping at her lip before he pulled her into his arms, her legs securely wrapped around his torso. he carried her to their shared bedroom, placing her at the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees on the plush carpet.

he pulled his white t-shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere across the room as he lifted her legs over his shoulders, gently kissing up and down the expanse of her leg.

the sight of mick between her legs never failed to give her butterflies. he never hesitated to get on his knees for her, no matter how sore they may be in the morning. she never even had to ask. mick always seemed to know just what she needed.

her chest was filled with love as mick kissed, licked and sucked his way across her inner thigh. he was her sweet boy, her love. mick thought that she was an angel on earth, and had even made the cheesy 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' joke the first night that they spent together.

he tongued at her wet core through the black cotton of her panties, eliciting a gentle gasp from the woman above him.

"you liked that, sweet girl? did that feel good?"

"yeah." she breathed, shifting on the bed, arousal jolting through her body. "i want you, mickie."

"it's so weird that you call me that when the guy you work for is also named mickey."

"it's spelt different."

"same difference." he laughed, pinching her thigh gently.

"i guarantee you that i'm not thinking about my boss right now, mick."

mick laughed, his warm hands traversing her thighs, up to her ass, and pulling her closer to his face. "raise your hips, honey pie. let's get those pesky panties off of you."

across from her, a large round mirror sat on top of the white ikea dresser, and she couldn't decide what was more erotic: the reflection of her blushing, panting face and the back of mick's head between her thighs, or looking down and seeing the look of lust and adoration in mick's eyes as he slid her calvins down her legs.

making eye contact with her lover, she teasingly began to undo the buttons on her flannel, letting the fabric fall away and expose her naked curved body to the man on his knees in front of her.

“you fucking undo me, baby.” mick said, voice husky as he visibly held back a moan. “so pretty just for me. I don’t deserve it.”

he gently ran a hand up and down her thigh as she used her legs to draw him closer to her core, the heat radiating off her skin and warming his.

he kissed her core gently, smiling at the soft sigh he drew from his lover before he began to lick at her slit, juices running down his tongue and around his lips.

“holy fuck.” she exhaled, throwing her head back.

if she looked in the mirror, she’d be able to see micks shoulder blades rippling under his skin every time he pushed himself closer to where she needed him most.

“yeah, you needed this, didn’t you? needed me to help you feel better? that’s what I’m here for baby, you don’t even gotta ask.”

there was reverence contained in every lick, every nuzzle. every time his nose bumped her clit. every gasp and moan she let out spurred him on, encouraging him further as he continued to make out with her pussy.

“fucking hell, mick. that feels so good.” she moaned, rutting against his lips. “oh, god!”

“atta girl.” mick encouraged, snaking his arms around her waist. “just use me to feel good, baby.”

she was flush against his face now, practically grinding herself against his tongue. she chanced a look down, moaning at the look of sheer lust in micks eyes as he met hers, his long pink tongue licking at her opening, face practically covered in her juices.

“mick, oh my god!” she squealed, thighs closing in around his face, fingers twisted up in the duvet as she tried to stay upright.

she came with a scream, arms threatening to give out beneath her as mick continued to work her to the edge, never giving up his relentless pace

“that’s my girl. come on, give it to me. I know you can, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

she slumped backwards, allowing the duvet to pillow around her as she felt her legs go week. her hands moved to ruffle micks hair, a lazy smile on her face. he continued to kiss her thighs as she lay there to recover, listening for every breath, every soft sigh.

“how’re you feeling?” his voice was soft as he crept up the bed, gently hovering over her body. he laced one hand with hers, his nose running along her cheek.

“absolutely fantastic. you always know how to make me feel good.”

when he kissed her, she could taste traces of herself on his lips. in the beginning, she’d felt so awkward about tasting it. now? now it just served as another reminder of how much mick loved her. a reminder that he enjoyed pleasuring her.

“can you taste how sweet you are?” he hummed, kissing her softly again. “just like heaven, princess.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, pretty girl. I’m pretty sure heaven is right between those thighs of yours.” there was a sparkle in his blue eyes, and a cheeky grin on his lips. “you know, you’re more than just pretty. you’re fucking smart too. I wish I could be half as smart as you are. do you think that if I slipped my cock into you right now, I could absorb some of that knowledge like through osmosis or whatever?”

she grinned stupidly at the sheer absurdity of the question. once you got him in the bedroom, mick schumacher had no filter whatsoever.

“wanna try it and find out?”

mick drew back, undoing the top button on his levis while she sat up just enough to toss her flannel aside and move up the bed. she slipped a small throw pillow underneath her hips when the lay back down, sweaty hair brushed behind her ears. mick clambered up the bed to join her, large hands reaching to the knob on the bedside drawer for a condom.

he slid inside her with ease, buried to the hilt as he kissed her forehead gently. she squirmed underneath him, gently rutting her hips into his.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

his thrusts were gentle, yet still deep as he drew one of her legs up and around his waist, her arms coming to link around his neck as she pulled him close. he was a gentle lover, a passionate one. he believed in taking his time to make his partner feel good.

“my god, babe, you feel so fucking good. so good for me.” he groaned down her ear, teeth nipping at her earlobe. “taking my cock so well.”

hands on his shoulders, she could feel his muscles rippling and undulating under her dainty hands, french nails leaving small scratches along his tanned skin.

“oh, just like that.”

the pace was slow and comforting, sensual and erotic as mick somehow managed to make every thrust feel like his cock was going deeper, deeper, deeper.

“eyes on me, honey pie. I wanna see that pretty face of yours.” mick encouraged, seeing her eyes screwed shut in pleasure, cheek resting against the pillow. “where’s my sexy model girlfriend?”

a smile crossed her features, a moan escaping her throat as mick brushed against her spongy walls. she turned her head slightly, staring right up at his goofy smile and sweaty face.

he leaned down to kiss her, moaning into her mouth before slipping his tongue in and touching it against hers.

his hands travelled up and down her body, over all of her curves. over her breasts and rolling her nipples between his fingers.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispered, kissing her softly. “I love you.”

“mick,” she moaned softly. “faster.”

he smirked, snapping his hips quickly against hers. “how’s this, baby? you close?”

“yeah.” she whined. “think so.”

she curled her legs tighter around him, trying to pull mick closer and closer to her, trying to take him deeper and deeper. his breath was heavy on her neck as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake. one of his hands came down and over her waist, thumb rubbing gently at her sensitive clit. she moaned out a small curse, nails digging into his back.

“please.” she panted “don’t stop.”

his free hand desperately clenched around the sage green duvet, his grip white-knuckled. her walls contracted around his cock, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. he swore in german, his hips faltering as he tried to keep his composure.

“give it to me baby, come on, I know you can. keep taking my cock. fucking shit, baby, I’m not gonna last.”

“mick!” she screamed, back arching, skin pressing against his, walls contracting around his thick dick.

her nails were digging into his back, her face flushed and facing away from him as she came. at this angle, he was happy to lean over and press gentle kisses to her face, softly whispering praise and encouragement as he continued to work himself to the edge.

his hips stuttered, cock twitching as he spilled into the condom, body shaking as he lowered himself to rest beside his lover. he had yet to pull out, their legs still locked together. her skin was warm as he pulled her into his arms, swollen lips leaving kisses against her sweaty hair and her fingertips drew shapes against the bare skin of his chest.

out in the kitchen, he could faintly hear the radio. it had long since changed from springsteen, now playing the dulcet tones of paul hewson and u2.

he knew he should get up. he at least needed to take the condom off. maybe pull a blanket over their bodies.

but having her in his arms was a type of heaven within itself. her scent overwhelming his senses, her touch comforting over his flushed skin.

he needed her beside him like he needed oxygen to breathe.

“mick,” she mumbled, head still resting against his chest. “I need to go to the bathroom, and you’ve still got most of your lower body weight on me.”

he grinned sheepishly as he disentangled himself from her, watching from the bed as she strode to the closet, pulling a silken robe around her lithe frame.

he was so in love. he hoped this would be his forever.

#the cozy collection 2024 #mick schumacher x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smut #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher x y/n #formula one imagine #formula one smut #Spotify

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 month ago

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𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 || 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: here || part two: money power glory

Summary_when Coriolanus promised to split the plinth prize with his best friend, he didn’t knew that would be enough reason for Dr. Gaul to transform you into an experiment.

Warnings_bff to enemies, asshole Coryo, violence, mutations, angst, fluff.

Note_ im back to my coriolanus shit, and nothing just listen to valley of the dolls and girl

♪ ♫ Coryo playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_________________________________________

It was a dry fall day when Coriolanus and his family ran out of cabbage and potatoes. He was to go to Pluribus Bell and trade some belongings for food. He was a kid, and he had been struggling for a very long time now. The Capitol was slowly making its way back to what it was before the war, but it was taking longer than expected.

Tigris was out, trying to trade some of the gold earrings from Grandma’am for wood, for the upcoming winter.

At the rough age of twelve, Coriolanus Snow had been growing impatient to get older, get into University, and give his family a better life. He already knew how to disguise his lack of wealth and how to fit in with his classmates. Coriolanus had no friends, just people to blend in.

He carefully closed the door from Pluribus’ place when someone opened the door from inside, pulling him backward, and making him trip.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry- Coriolanus Snow?” He heard a soft female voice and when he stood up, he finally saw you.

“Y/n?…” He grew worried, wondering if any other classmates were around, hoping to be wrong, as he didn’t want to be seen.

“Hi…” you awkwardly said.

Coriolanus was indifferent to you. He disliked how he often heard you gossiping with your friends. He disliked how you always participated in debates and readings, finding it annoying. And most important, he knew you were born capitol but your family was once District 1 generations ago. You were no daughter of elite members.

“What are you doing here?” The boy asked.

You weren’t expecting to see him there. Pluribus’ customers were always… poor people, hungry. So when you saw the brown bag with two cabbages and some potatoes in Coriolanus’ bag, you didn’t even need to question.

“I come here to trade my mother’s designs for food.” Coriolanus never thought you were in a situation similar to him.

“My father served in the war, he got injured and couldn’t keep working, and my mother quit her job to take care of him. We don’t have much but we are surviving…” you added shamelessly, Coriolanus was jealous that you weren’t afraid of revealing the truth, something he couldn’t.

“I won’t tell anyone I saw you here, Coriolanus. If that’s what you want” you added after seeing him judging you quietly, giving a cold look. You had the idea of him being serious and a young man of few words, no doubt he was.

“Can I trust you?” He asked, thinking he sounded so dumb.

“I have no reason to spread details of your life. So yes, you can trust me…”

“Okay…”

“I live on the Corso…” you said and without thinking, Coriolanus smiled more than he should have.

“Me too!” His excited tone made you feel relieved.

“Can you imagine both of us living in the same place?” You asked cheerfully. Coriolanus doubted it.

“I don’t think so…”

Oh but how mistaken was he? Not only do you two live on the Corso, but you also live in the same building. He had the penthouse and your parents owned the floor below.

Coriolanus was taken aback by how calm and excited you were as you showed him your house.

The boy learned quickly that your family was doing better than his. You had a lot of things, your room had exotic wallpapers, and a lamp made of feathers was even affordable.

For the first time, Coriolanus felt like he could actually enjoy meeting someone new. Even better if it was in his safe space, his home, and the source of his identity.

And that’s how you turned out to be the only person Coriolanus allowed to know about his situation.

…

Exactly five years later, Coriolanus was coming back from the market where he had traded a watch for some black dressing pants. Even though the Plinth Prize had been only announced two days ago, Coriolanus was already thinking about clothing for the occasion. He was out of breath by the time he hit your floor. And he was not going to stop by your place but he grew curious when he saw you tending a big piece of dark grey crinkled fabric. You had your long hair curled up, wearing slippers, a nightgown, and a robe.

He smiled, wondering how important could that fabric be to not acknowledge him.

“What you got there?” You quickly looked up, slightly embarrassed that Coriolanus caught you in your pajamas.

“I know it’s early, but my mom and I had an idea for a set. In case you know-“ you feel like you sound very narcissistic, hinting that you could possibly win the Plinth prize. Coriolanus and you were exceptional in school. And the only “friends” you could count were Clemensia, Festus, and Sejanus, although they were slightly behind you and the blonde.

“I had the same idea,” Coriolanus said, walking closer, showing you the black pants in his arm.

You smile at him, feeling reassured that you both thought the same. You knew the young man judged you once. But now, he had no reason to. Or so you believed.

He was very close to turning eighteen in the first months of the approaching year, you had also thought about buying him a present.

“Come inside. I need to tell you something…” he nodded, but gulped, thinking the worst.

You shut the door and Coriolanus noticed it smelled sweet.

“Oh, I’m baking something… I would like to share it with you and your family” The boy blushed at you noticing how hungry he was and also because it was very kind of you to share given the circumstances.

“You don’t have to, y/n”

“But I want to.…” he rolled his eyes, chuckling, tenderly accepting your good intentions.

“I don’t have anything to give you back. But we made a promise. Remember?” You nod, smiling softly at him.

Coriolanus is your best friend. Although Clemensia, Festus, and even Arachne were close friends, no one compared to Coryo.

“I do, but…”

“No, y/n. No matter what, we are splitting the prize. Both of us are going to university together.” He seriously said.

In the most inconvenient way, Coriolanus had found an ally. He knew most of his classmates since he was a little child, but after getting to know you, he understood it wasn’t the same. He was grateful for having you.

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Sit…” Coriolanus walked towards your kitchen table. He realized your parents were gone. Which made him wonder where were they.

The place smelled like corn syrup and roses. Deep down, probably those two were his favorite things. He craved sweet things and the roses reminded him of his mother and her powder.

“So?…” he inquired, you were a little busy placing some towels on the table.

“My mother found a job in a fabric store, in a couple of weeks she’ll be able to refer Tigris. She’ll be able to leave the work with Fabricia” his eyes went wide, a smile immediately growing on his face.

“And not only that. My father accepted to work as a secretary in the offices of the Capitol’s congress” he couldn’t be jealous of the success of your parents when they were offering to help Tigris. He went up to give you a hug.

“That’s great news, dear” you hugged him back. He smelled like cedar and roses. You remembered the flowers his grandmother sent the day before.

“If things go right. My father could get us a job there after the Academy. And we’d have more money to pay the university’s tuition” he nodded, unconsciously hiding his face in your neck. The closure made you blush, it wasn’t like you and the boy hugged very often. But you appreciated it.

“I have faith we’ll have a bright future, Coryo. I really do”

“Thank you, for everything you and your family have done,” the blonde said.

“You are like family too. It’s nothing…” you reply, breaking the hug to check at the oven.

Coriolanus eyes you. He catches the smell of your hair, patchouli, and herbs. He smiles, looking at your clean face and old nightgown. He can’t deny you’ve grown into a gorgeous woman. But he blocks the thoughts from flowing further.

“I made bread pudding.” You knew it was his favorite.

And his smile only grew. When Tigris had the chance to steal from Fabricia and his waste, she made a classical bread pudding. But you were able to do a more sophisticated one. With cherry blossom powder that your mother had. The bread was more wet and less like fudge. Coriolanus loved it ever since he tried back two years during the holidays.

“I’m really liking this day” he admits, making you chuckle as you place the dessert literally in his face.

…

Reaping day wasn’t your favorite. You didn’t hate the districts but you didn’t like how they tried to destroy the Capitol. Nonetheless, the Hunger Games weren’t part of your fond morals. Having the privilege of being a mentor for the first time ever in the history of the games, wasn’t as exciting as it sounded. The only good thing is that it would lead to being closer to knowing who won the Plinth prize.

Months had passed and the day had finally arrived. You slipped into the two-piece set your mother made for you. A blazer and a long circle skirt in dark grey. An old pair of black boots that belonged to your grandmother and were in excellent condition, the leather felt nice and the heels added elegance to your outfit.

You never felt intimidated by not being part of the elite and being considered “poor” and it tore you to see Coriolanus feel like he wasn’t enough. Like the grate was of his last name had to loosen power.

So when you called him through the phone to see if he was ready, he said you should go first, showing a display of a little panic attack because Tigris hadn’t returned with the shirt he was to wear.

As much as you protested and said you would wait for him, he made you leave saying you couldn’t be late.

So you did.

When you stepped out of the building, you encountered Persephone, Coriolanus’ neighbor. The blonde had said once that Persephone and Clemensia were probably the prettiest girls from class. Which made you feel terrible but you ignored it from the moment it happened.

“Hey… Are you ready for today?” She asked.

“Yes… totally” You weren’t happy, to be honest, but you showed her your best smile.

“Why is Coriolanus not with you? He’s always attached to you…” the comment makes you smile nervously. Although you knew most of your classmates and had literally grown up along them, you never knew what kind of assimilation they had about you and Coriolanus.

“Oh, he woke up late. I wanted to wait for him, but he literally obliged me to go on” Persephone giggled, urging you to cross the street.

“That boy is head over heels for you…”

“Oh my goodness, Persephone. That’s not true…” she laughs, her lilac makeup and crimson lips making her look even more pretty.

“Trust me, y/n… There are even bets on the year you two will tie the knot!” Her comment makes you so embarrassed.

“We’re here!” You say changing the subject.

Heavensbee Hall is full of students and faculty. A lot of them say to you because it wasn’t a secret that your friendly demeanor and good grades made you more popular than Persephone.

When make it to the talk with Felix, Festus, and Arachne, you spot Clemensia entering the event along with Coriolanus.

At first glance, you tried to ignore the mixed feelings you caught after Persephone’s comments and seeing the man you quietly doted on the girl he considered the most beautiful.

“That can’t be y/n y/l/n! That’s a model!” you finally turn when you hear Clemmie, which makes you smile shyly.

Coriolanus finally spots you and he gulps. Every day, he saw you wearing opaque tones. He knew you craved vivid colors and exotic makeup, your mother was an unemployed fashion designer after all. Having the chance to wear elegant clothes and highlighting your skin with splotches of berry colors was a sight for Coriolanus. His hands felt sweaty and numb, a familiar feeling he started developing whenever you were close.

He walked straight towards you, taking a last sip of the posca he disliked. You smile at him, accommodating the rosebud attached to his heart. The action caught the attention of all your classmates and friends, who quietly gossiped or exchanged looks.

“That’s a gorgeous shirt, Coryo” he smiled.

“Tigris and your mother are my saviors” he whispered in your ear, which sent shivers to you.

You and your friends are called out to take a seat as the reaping is about to start. You end up seated between Coriolanus and Sejanus. And suddenly you find yourself lost in your thoughts, wondering who you would be mentoring. It’s all you could truly think about since you woke up. But suddenly, Coriolanus makes you come back to life.

“It’s going to be okay…” he said to which you replied with a little smile.

“By the way, you look very pretty…” your heart pounds as he whispers in your ear for the second time. Your smile grows along the blush creeping on your face.

“Really?” You feel so stupid after asking that. You didn’t want him to think you needed validation.

“Every day you look pretty, but I rarely see you with color in your face” he admits and it sends you to death the fact that he proceeded to grab your hand and give it a squeeze.

He didn’t know why he did that, but it felt right.

Something weird happened, you both felt a spark.

…

Watching kids fighting for their lives in the most gruesome way wasn’t appealing. Your eyes are on the little girl from District 8, your tribute; Wovey. The last time you saw her in the zoo before the games started, she made you cry so badly. She was just a little girl and the fact that she had smiled at you, saying how beautiful your dress was, made you understand every word Sejanus said.

The districts deserved to pay? Yes. But why not make them pay extra taxes, or limit their supplies? Why do you have to scavenge food for a little girl who is likely to die?

Sejanus had walked out after seeing what happened to his tribute. The bloodbath had been disgusting to watch. And as the hours pass as you sit along Coriolanus and other classmates watching your tributes, the weight of the events that happened on the previous days hit you. The moment you saw the rainbow-ruffled skirt from Lucy Gray Baird, you knew it would mark a before and after.

It was like her appearance in Coriolanus’ life had worsened everything for everyone surrounding him. First was Arachne, then Clemensia, whose image still haunted you with the scales and yellow eyes. Then the rebel bombing. It had been a long time since felt fear. You felt alone because you protected Wovey. But nobody protected you. The blurred sight of Coriolanus clinging to the ruffles of Lucy Gray’s skirt and calling for her as the medics took him away was very present.

You look down at your lap, the skirt of the uniform was on, but not the pants, since your leg was still bandaged from the burns you suffered the day of the bombing.

There’s a drift between you and Coriolanus since the day of the reaping. He appeared at the zoo and at night told you it wasn’t planned, he practically ignored you whenever he visited Lucy Gray but squeezed your hand the day of Arachne’s funeral. He confided to you what happened with Clemensia but refused to console you when she appeared in the hospital while you took care of Coriolanus.

The only good thing is that your parents were making a name. They were getting popular and you loved seeing them happy. Unfortunately, just as they were finding happiness, you were losing it.

You kept losing friend after friend. Clemensia ignored you moments before the games started. Arachne was gone, and Sejanus looked beyond depressed. And Coriolanus was falling for District scum.

How could he even inquire if the songbird was almost Capitol during the interviews?

Maybe you were a hypocrite for claiming Sejanus as a friend, who once was District and called it his home. But you despised Lucy Gray for wearing the clothes and makeup you craved, for being naturally charming and unconsciously revolving around most of your problems.

You have been quiet for hours, only having eyes for little Wovey.

Coriolanus glances at you frequently. And he can see the sad look on your face. He couldn’t ignore you had been changed since the reaping. The happy and positive girl he knew was slowly morphing into some lost panicked mentor.

The moment the games started, Coriolanus realized how hard it was for you to look after Wovey, one of the youngest tributes he had seen. The guilt of being such a bad friend started rubbing him in the wrong way.

Which is why he found himself constantly looking at you to see how you were doing.

But when he looks back, you’re gone. Most of the people watching the first day are gone.

It’s just Dr. Gaul telling him Sejanus entering the arena.

…

The tension was escalating. Coriolanus couldn’t sleep, not even with the cold shower that resulted nice for the heat. All he could think was about Sejanus and him running for their lives. He killed a boy. There was blood on his hands. He desperately called you but you didn’t answer. He went to bed thinking of Lucy Gray hiding in the arena and you practically ignoring him. And just when he was about to doze off with the memory of the kiss Lucy Gray gave him, his eyes opened abruptly.

He remembered the promise you two made.

When he walked back to Heavensbee Hall for the second day of the games, he could hear Lucky Flickerman giving the broadcast. He went straight to you, firstly noticing how you caressed your knuckles, showing that you were anxious.

“Could you sleep?” He asked, taking a seat beside you. You glanced at him, only to bow your head, back to your knuckles.

“I took some pills…” he frowned, confused.

“Pills?…”

“It’s nothing, Coryo. Just melatonin pills, to help me sleep well.” He nodded, not fully convinced.

“I’m sorry for being… distant,” he said, to which you shrugged, crossing your arms.

“It’s okay. We all have acquired different problems since the reaping. You have just been busy with your rainbow girl” Your tone distilled bitterness when you mentioned Lucy Gray, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coriolanus.

“When one of the two of us wins, it’ll be like before, but better.” he knew it wouldn’t.

“It’ll never be the same. Arachne is gone, Clemesia out of herself, Sejanus defying Gaul, the Ring twins' death… You’re already changing” he quickly took your hand, ignoring the way some people could be looking at him.

“I’m not. We’re family… you’re special. And I will always fight for you, y/n” his comment lit a fire inside you. You give him a little smile. But he knows you’re still blue.

Right when he was closer to admitting he had feelings for you, Lucy Gray appeared, withdrawing any plan he could have. And now he was confused about you.

Perhaps you only saw him as your best friend. Which is why he didn’t suppress the emotions Lucy Gray made him feel.

…

No-no, no, no, no, no… NO!

Every mentor and attendant in Heavensbee Hall heard you whisper until you literally screamed. The little Wovey had drank the water with poison. Tears immediately swelled in your eyes and you stood up, splashing the room with sorrow.

Even Capitol people felt emotional about the little girl slowly dying unbeknownst to her. Even Livia Cardew looked at you with empathy when you walked past her.

Even Clemensia, briefly looked at Coriolanus silently asking if she should go to follow you, but he told her he was going.

And he did. He followed you outside the room, finding you on one of the stairs leading to another hallway. Your hands covered your face, but he could hear you sobbing.

You felt terrible. You knew Wovey was likely to die, but that didn’t stop the pain. Adding all the strong emotions you’ve dealt with in the past days made you explode.

You just wanted your best friend. Regardless of his unrequited feelings, you needed him.

And he magically appeared.

When you wiped your eyes, he approached you. He took a seat beside you and caressed your shoulder.

“You’re not okay.” He said, to which you shook your head.

“I’m feeling the same as you. Only that I’m a crier and you’re not…” Coriolanus briefly smiled, appreciating your profile.

He faced the woman who knew all of him. The only woman that could ever understand him. And the only one who would care for him enough aside from his family.

“You were closer to Arachne than me. With Clemensia too. And your tribute was closer to being a baby again than she was to become a teenager…” new tears poured down and Coriolanus cursed himself for making you cry again.

“Is she finally gone?…” he nodded at you.

“You have to win, Coryo. You must win… This suffering must be worth it for one of us at least”

“If I win, you’re also in. We said it the day the prize was announced. We’re in this together…” Once again, he grabbed your hand again. And just when he was about to move away because you weren’t reciprocating the touch, you caressed his fingers, interlocking your hand with his.

“Lately I’ve been missing you a lot…” you confessed and it nearly made him blush.

“Why?…” it was dumb but he needed to hear something, he needed to comprehend.

“Well…. Because I need you, Coriolanus” his heart thumping and shaky hands prevented him from doing something stupid, but he offered you a lovely smile that you reciprocated.

He was about to say… “I need you too, y/n. Let me kiss you so I can accept whatever I feel for Lucy Gray is a whim”.

But he couldn’t. Because Festus appeared, looking for you two.

“Dr. Gaul wants you two back…” he said.

“Thanks, Festus” you thanked him.

And all the way to the room of commands, Coriolanus held your hand.

When the snakes landed on the arena of the games, Coriolanus stood up. When Lucy Gray was officially the winner, he went running to Tigris. But when he spun to hug you, he didn’t contain.

He grabbed your face and leaned to kiss you. The crowd cheered even harder, believing you two would officially begin a romance after years of uncertainty. You kissed him back, savoring the moment and feeling glad you didn’t give up on him.

“We won, y/n.” He whispered in your lips.

“We won, Coryo” You smiled, out of breath, and kissed him again.

…

His brain wasn’t thinking clearly. Coriolanus had messed up everything. He was being punished for his lies. Serving as a peacekeeper and leaving the Capitol was one thing. But for 20 years?

Perhaps he could follow Lucy Gray to District 12, just to see how was she. But 20 years was too long… especially when you were the woman he intended to marry one day.

He could say goodbye to his place in the University, he could say goodbye to paying the tax of his home. And he certainly could say goodbye to you.

But his biggest fear was that he slipped out you had the idea of the rat poison. Coriolanus was aware you said it vaguely, and he never told you he actually cheated.

As he walked out of Highbottom’s office, completely downcast, wondering how he would break down the news.

“Hey… Are you okay?” His nervousness grew as he watched you walk escorted by two peacekeepers.

“What are you doing?” You shrugged.

“Dr. Gaul wants to see me…” Coriolanus frowned. Was the lunatic going to punish you?

“And you? What are you doing here?” he bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell you yet. But probably it would be worse to wait and tell you in the morning, just when he was supposed to leave for the districts.

“The dean… he wanted to talk to me about the disbursement of the prize”

The guilt started killing him the moment you smiled at him. You leaned, stepped on your tiptoes, and gave him a gentle peck.

It took him by surprise, but caressed your cheeks and kissed you back.

“I’ll see you at home?….” He nodded, pressing his forehead with yours, knowing he probably wouldn’t see you again. His eyes watered and he tried to stop time.

But it was inevitable because you gave him one last smile and you passed by him, followed by the peacekeepers.

Chills assaulted him, but he thought everything was going to be okay. At least for you.

…

For a couple of days, he was able to forget about you. But soon when Sejanus asked how were, the guilt felt like a bucket of ice blocks falling all over him.

He lied, saying you were okay. But Lucy Gray knew he wasn’t being truthful. Coriolanus confessed to her. The songbird found it very hard to admit that Coriolanus’ true love was you. Perhaps he followed her to her home, he was making her happy. But the blonde was Capitol, he would always prefer his people and his girl.

“You have waited too long, darling. Please call her and at least apologize” she said throwing some rocks at the lake in front of them.

“She’s probably mad at me…”

“More the reason to fight for her” Coriolanus glanced at her confused. But Lucy Gray rolled her eyes playfully.

“Look…” she reached for a purple flower. She cut it and showed it to Coriolanus.

“From what I’ve heard of y/n… is that she is important. You said once she’s your best friend. Think of her like this flower, which is a hydrangea. They have medicinal properties and they are very pretty… but they’re delicate. So I think you would prefer to keep her nurtured. Because she’s special…” Coriolanus sighed.

He couldn’t say to Lucy Gray he was scared of losing you because it would mean that all he did the moment he bribed the secretary of the military deferment wasn’t worth it. He came to the twelve because he wanted to be with Lucy Gray, but he had some unresolved feelings for you.

It was so confusing.

“I’ll call her tomorrow during my break…” Lucy Gray nodded, knowing that after that call many things could change. But it was the right thing to do. Because you were innocent.

…

The jabberjays awakened something inside him. The possibility of finding a reason to be sent back to the Capitol sounded very attractive. But all was forgotten when he requested to call your apartment. In the same building, he called home.

He gulped nervously before a female voice picked up the call. Your mother.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Mrs. Y/l/n… It’s Coriolanus” she sighed, the blonde could almost see her nodding.

“Oh, Coriolanus. What a surprise to hear from you…”

“I guess y/n told you I was sent to serve as a peacekeeper” he admitted, surprised to hear your mother didn’t want to kill him for hurting you.

”Coriolanus… y/n has been sick since the day the hunger games closed” he frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear.

“What?…”

“Apparently she was working in the laboratories in the Citadel with Dr. Gaul. She caught a virus and has been quarantined. I’m so desperate to see her again. Her father has been asking but Dr. Gaul says she’ll be fine in a couple of weeks.”

Coriolanus immediately thought back on Clemensia and the “flu” she caught. But now, it was ten times worse.

Did Gaul punish you for helping him to cheat in the games? Were you dead?

His hands started shaking.

“As soon as I’m back in the Capitol. I’ll try to ask for more information. She’ll be okay…” he tried to soothe your mother, but he was already freaking out.

So he didn’t have situate to send jabberjays with the recording of Sejanus revealing his rebel plans. All so he could go back to you.

…

He didn’t regret it. Because as soon as he stepped into the Citadel, back at home, it felt right.

“Welcome back to the Capitol, Mr. Snow,” said Dr. Gaul, tending her water mutts and giving him a sadic smile.

He stood silent for a couple of seconds. Debating whether to ask you or not.

“I know what you’re thinking about, boy,” she said, walking down the stairs of the mutt's cage.

Coriolanus remained silent, carefully eyeing her.

“She couldn’t get away if she was also guilty for putting in your head that silly idea for you to cheat during the games” he gulped, nervous.

“Have you talked with her parents?”

“Just with her mother once. They think she’s sick and will be fine in a couple of weeks. But they’re worried…” he admitted, trying to act relaxed.

“Oh sure they are worried. I heard the man is going straight to the president’s cabinet. And the mother, already spreading her wings in the fashion tendencies…” Coriolanus wasn’t aware that during his time away your parents had spent all of their time working to try to not worry too much about you. To gain power and find a quicker way to be with you.

“I didn’t know…”

“She was very angry when she learned you had lied to her…”

How was he supposed to keep his composure with that talk?

“I never intended to hurt her” he hated to admit that. He couldn’t be vulnerable. But it crumbled just because it was about you.

“Ah, young love. It’s so dangerous because it makes us weak…”

“Is she alive?…” he tried to change the subject.

“You just have to say you want her back and she’ll be in the Capitol’s hospital in a couple of days” he grew more worried.

“She can’t die… or stop being her”

“The snakes in your other friend really triggered you…” Gaul mocked, laughing.

With that lunatic mentoring him, he had to pull out a stronger card. Something that would compromise him as well so she had no choice but to let you go at once.

“I intend to marry her.” The woman stopped laughing, only to look at him, trying to find the lie in his words, but there wasn’t.

“Brave girl to conquer the heart of a Snow…” and with that, she started walking towards another room in the big laboratory.

The room of voxels and human mutations. He grew anxious until Dr. Gaul pointed out a big water tank.

Coriolanus holds a big breath of terror. He tries his best to remain still. But he felt fear. Just when he thought nothing could ever hurt him again, he had to encounter you in the worst possible way.

“What a shame, she was responding very well. Even looks like a mythological monster”

“Is she going to be… human again?”

“With patience, yes. I’ll let you know when we move her to the hospital. It would be nice if you gave the news to her parents. You know, given you’re the reason she almost ended up with a mermaid tail.”

There rested your naked unconscious body, almost completely covered in salmon scales. Your legs seemed to be slowly disappearing, as the scales were tangling them from your hips to your knees. Your hair was matted and your lashes seemed oddly long.

Coriolanus walked home. He couldn’t take the trolley. The walk seemed short, even with the approaching winter. Your image was haunting him. He couldn’t keep the secret to Tigris when he came back home. He pretended to have a giant smile on his face when he blurted that the Plinths made him heir of their fortune. And he tried to ignore the memory of the elevator indicating the name of your floor.

“But she’s going to be okay?” Tigris asked worried.

“Dr. Gaul said so…”

“I thought she was busy trying to get into the university… her parents rarely appeared to be around too”

Coriolanus remembered what he said back in the laboratory.

“I told Dr. Gaul I’m marrying her” Her cousin opened her eyes in disbelief.

“So she could release her?”

“Yes. But also because… I always thought of it.”

“Are you conscious she’s likely to be mad at you for leaving without answers?” Coriolanus nodded, knowing very well you had plenty of reasons to hate him. But there was no going back.

”Very aware…”

“Then you’ll show her again the fine man you are. You remind her why you were best friends.” He was no good man. He killed people to get to the top. But he wouldn’t be that man to you. You were the only one who could possibly understand him and keep his filthy secrets.

“Snow lands on top” Tigris whispered.

Coriolanus turned to look at a picture of you. He and his family love you so much, you had your own portrait in the Snow Penthouse. The first your mother designed was pink and you wore it. You were always very pretty to the eyes of everyone. But only at that moment Coriolanus appreciated your beauty. The he looked at another picture, the one of you two during the reaping ceremony. His tailored shirt and your handmade clothes. That girl and boy were long gone.

But Coriolanus had done so much damage to step back. With Sejanus and Highbottom gone, he had secured a place in the Capitol. Lucy Gray couldn’t hurt him anymore. All he had to do was to win the girl that once belonged to him.

Giving one last look at the picture of you two, he smiled.

“Snow lands on top…” he answered back to Tigris.

_________

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader

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divinesolas · 9 months ago

Text

Forgettable date

r.q: Can I request a sweet smut modern aemond x fem reader where they were both so busy that they forgot about valentines day so aemond surprises reader with a romantic dinner and they end up just skipping dinner for some steamy bedroom time and in the middle of it, aemond whispers to reader "you're mine" and that was his way of proposing to reader, thank youu

w.c: 1.1k

c.w: office worker!reader, fluff, sweet aemond, aemonds job is left ambiguous, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, not proofread.

You were so swamped with work you had no concept of time, you were sure it was february as you had to pay your rent on the first of every month but if someone asked you what day it was you would have no clue. Same goes for your boyfriend of three years aemond, despite the fact the two of you dont work in the same field your schedules just so happen to both be so packed all the time.

as the rest of your coworkers began to pack up their stuff for the day you sat at your desk still fiverously typing away at your computer, you had a presentation in a couple days and report due tomorrow afternoon so you had decided to stay overtime.

some of your coworkers had come over to talk to you as they were wrapping up for today.

“you got any plans after work?”

“no.”

one of them gasps, “what do you mean? he didnt plan anything?”

you furrow your brows but dont turn to look at them, “what do you mean? he?”

“your boyfriend? or did you guys break up or something?” you turn to her at the mention of him and tilt your head, “why would he have planned something?”

one of them laughs while the one your looking at shakes her head and sighs, “do you really not know? its valentines day.”

“no…” you turn towards your computer, looking at the date and gasping, “oh my god. i had no idea.”

“did you guys not talk this morning?”

“we did but neither of us mentioned anything.”

“maybe hes planning on surprising you later.”

you groan and run your hands along your face. what if he was and you had nothing prepared? shit you didnt even have a gift for him.

your coworkers laugh and wish you good luck before they leave.

you have an internal debate before deciding to pull out your phone to text him.

‘aemond oh my god happy valentines day it completely slipped my mind im so sorry.’

you anxiously bite your nails as you wait for him to respond. youre tempted to lock your phone shut as you notice the three bubbles pop up.

‘oh is it valentines day? i had no idea. im so sorry baby ive been swamped with work happy valentines day my love. im about to get off for the day, ill see you once you get home. love you ❤️’

you let out a sigh of relief at him admitting that he had no clue either. most people would assume that he was just saying that to make you feel better but you knew aemond wasnt like that and he wouldn't hold it against you.

‘i cant wait to see you my love. im going to be staying for a bit longer to wrap up.’

You notice he reads the next then decide that you’ll pick up some baked goods on the way home as a gift and hope that you dont stay too long as you turn off your phone and get back to work.

an hour and a half later with a box of a variety of backed goods in hand turning the key to your shared apartment with aemond. youre immediately hit with the smell of your favor meal and a smile graces your face. he knows you love it when he cooks.

“im in the dining room my love.”

you walk in and you gasp at the sight of the set up table set with flowers and candles with your favorite meal plated out.

you feel hands wrap around your waist from behind you and a kiss placed on your cheek.

“aemond..”

“happy valentines day my love.”

he lets go and take the bag out of you hands, “you picked this up?”

“on my way home. grabbed your favorite.”

he hums and walks back over to you after he places the bag on the table.

he grabs your cheeks and gives you, “how was work?” he mumbles as he continues to kiss you, “it was good, report done,” you pause for a moment as he begins to kiss down your jaw and sigh, “presentation almost done.”

he begins to trail kisses down your neck, stopping to suck on it.

“you?”

he hums, “fine.”

hes not much of a talker, especially not when hes busy leaving hickeys over your next.

“aemond the food.”

“fuck the food. i have a meal right in front of me.”

you squeal as he lifts you up bridal style and carries you upstairs to you bedroom. “youre so ridiculous aemond.”

you yelp when he tosses you on the bed and makes his way on top of you, kissing you deeply.

he pulls away from you grabs his shirt from the back of his neck and rips it off before he goes back to kissing you.

you moan against his lips and he pulls away from you hand moving down to your waist to take off your pants, your underwear sliding along with them.

“aemond.” you whine as he begins to kiss down your stomach.

“let me take care of you tonight.”

he licks a strip up your slit and uses his hands to grip your waist and presses you down as he continues to lick at you. your heads reach down and grip at his hair pressing him closer. you can feel him laugh against you which leads you to moan out loud, “aemond.”

“let me take care of you.” he repeats and wraps his lips around your clit sucking on it leading you to throw your head back onto your pillow.

he doesn't let up even when he can tell youre close and youre begging him to slow down he keeps up his pace until hes finished licking up every drop of your cum after you had finished and kisses his way back up and smiles at you.

“happy?”

“ill be happy after you fuck me.”

“you're never sated my love.”

in a rush you both take off the rest of your clothes and he reaches over to grab a condom out your bedside table before you reach out and grab his wrist.

he looks over at you with a confused look, “if you dont want continue.”

“thats not it i just,, maybe we dont need it tonight.”

hes face turns smug as he grabs the hand you had wrapped around his wrist to kiss it.

“i love you.”

“i love you to-” youre interrupted by him pushing into you and you moan gripping onto his shoulders and bringing yourself into the crook of his neck.

“fuck you always feel so good my love.”

you cant respond as he begins to thrust into you. his hands lock with yours and his lips are right against your ear.

“youre mine.”

you moan, “say it.”

“im yours aemond im yours.”

you dont notice as he reaches over into the bedside table and grabs a tiny black box.

“then marry me.”

you feel like you're in a daze as he continues to thrust and shows you a stunning ring inside the box.

“what?”

“marry me.”

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python333 · 1 year ago

Note

hi! i’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but if you aren’t feel free to ignore this!

anyways, i was thinking what would it be like if you were back on base and did something nice for everyone and made their fave coffee/tea while you’re all relaxing after a long mission? like how would the 141 react and what would you make for them?

that’s all but i hope you have a great day and i absolutely love your writings!! they seriously are so detailed and amazing, you do a beautiful job w each one💌

unwind — python333

— — — —

synopsis the 141 + you are back from a super long mission and u make them their fave coffee/tea!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

word count 3.6k

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], gaz being a little shit.

note thank you so much for the req!! i am taking them right now, but apologies if i post them 2+ days after i get them, my writers block is slowly creeping back into my mind and im fighting it off the best i can! also, thank you for the compliments :3 ilysm youre too nice!! i saw ur reblog of bedbound too and i was so sjdfksdfks!! hope u have a good day too and hope you enjoy this fic, it's all fluff and way too in depth descriptions of making tea/coffee!!

As soon as the electric kettle clicks, signaling to you that the water inside of it has been boiled, you unplug it and pour the water into a mug you’d pulled from the cabinets. It still surprised you that there were any mugs left, with how many people kept stealing to put on their desk to hold pencils—by people, you mean Soap, and only Soap—but you weren’t complaining.

You set the kettle back down once the mug is filled up just an inch below the brim and grab the tea bag you’d grabbed earlier, wrapping the string around the handle of the mug a few times before putting the bag itself into the water. Almost immediately, you see small tendrils of dark brown flow out from the drowned tea bag into the originally clear water.

As that happens, you walk the small few steps over to the small fridge from the kettle and open it, grabbing the small carton of cream and closing the fridge shut. You walk back over to the mug and unscrew the cap of the carton, pouring some cream into the mug, adding a half inch of height to the liquid already in the mug before screwing the cap back on and setting the carton down.

You don’t bother to grab a spoon and mix anything yet, instead reaching over to the small terracotta container beside the coffee machine that contained sugar, and taking off the lid.

You think for a moment if you should grab a spoon for this, but ultimately decide against it, instead just tipping the container over the mug and letting what you hope is two teaspoons of sugar spill over into the mug.

Afterwards, you put the lid back on the container holding the sugar and set it back next to the coffee machine, and grab the cream to put back into the fridge.

Once the cream’s been put back, you open the drawers in the counter and grab a small spoon, one that’s just tall enough that it won’t be fully submerged in the tea, and put it into the mug.

You close the drawer and give the tea a few stirs before picking up the mug, being careful of the scalding heat and holding it solely by its handle. You carefully walk out of the snack bar extension of the kitchen and head towards Price’s office.

After a year or two of working with him, you’ve learned a lot about his tea preferences—he likes Yorkshire tea, the original one, not the gold. He only likes cream and sugar in his coffee, just to make it smoother and make it a bit sweeter, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

You vaguely remember him telling you he’d never had honey or any other sweeteners besides a bit of sugar in his tea, and remember more vividly you thinking, God, that’s such an old person thing to say, but not saying it out loud.

Once you’ve reached his office, you knock a few times and Price’s tired voice calls out, “Come in!”

You open the door, careful to keep the mug from spilling in your hands, and walk in, closing the door behind you. Price looks up from his computer, presumably writing a report on the mission you’d all just come back from an hour or two ago, and offers a small smile when he sees you. He’s about to say something before he catches sight of the mug in your hands.

“Did you…” He doesn’t finish his question, but you know what he was about to ask, and you nod in response.

“If it’s too sugary let me know,” You tell him, setting the mug down a safe distance away from his computer, “I can remake it.”

“I won’t make you remake it,” Price looks at you, almost offended, “You didn’t have to make me anything in the first place, but thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You hum, walking away, saying over your shoulder, “Hope you like it.”

You open the door without another word and walk out, closing it behind you, heading right back to the snack bar. Now for Soap.

Soap typically preferred coffee to tea, despite tea’s popularity in Scotland. He’d told you that he really couldn’t taste the difference between different coffee blends, but upon hearing that there was a Scottish blend, he declared he’d only drink that one, because of course he did.

He pretended he could tell if the coffee he was drinking was of that Scottish blend, but you knew he couldn’t. How did you know? You’d only ever given him Scottish roast once. Every other time since then, it’s been French roast.

He’s never really used a coffee machine for himself, going to cafes or coffee shops most of the time for coffee, keeping his usual coffee order written in his notes app because he couldn’t remember it for the life of him.

He’d sometimes modify his order if certain coffee shops didn’t do certain things that he usually got, but his order stays mostly the same every time he gets coffee. Medium (or grande, if he’s at Starbucks) latte with a double shot of espresso.

Typically, he’d get some shortbread too, but you didn’t really have any in the base, so he’d have to do without it today.

Once you enter the snack bar, you grab another mug from the cabinets above the counter and place it under the coffee machine. You open the cabinets right by the ones that contained the mugs and grab a bag of ground French roast, pulling it out and putting it on the counter.

You open it up and find that there’s conveniently already a small cup in there to scoop the coffee grounds up, and use your free hand to grab a new coffee filter from the same cabinets you got the coffee grounds from, swiftly putting it into the machine.

You use your other hand to scoop up some coffee grounds and put them into the filter, closing the top of the coffee machine afterwards and turning on the machine. You’re grateful there’s more options listed on the small digital screen that lights up on the machine than just plain black coffee, not really in the mood to try and steam milk right now.

You tap on the ‘latte’ option and watch as the screen changes and hear the coffee machine start to whir.

As it does that, you put away the coffee grounds and open up the cabinets that contained mugs once again, pulling out a small espresso glass and setting it onto the counter.

You wait patiently for the coffee to brew, and once you hear the small beep sound from the machine that signals that it’s done, you pull away the steaming hot coffee and set it down right next to the coffee machine.

You quickly put the espresso glass under the machine and start it up again, this time tapping the ‘espresso shot’ option—surprised that’s even an option, honestly—and hearing the familiar whirring noise start up again. It doesn’t take nearly as long as brewing the latte did, the small beep coming much sooner than it did just a minute or two earlier, and you pull away the small espresso glass from the machine almost immediately after you hear it.

You pause for a moment, looking at how much the latte part had filled up the mug, and look around for a moment before opening up the same drawer that contains the eating utensils and grabbing a straw, putting the straw in the still hot latte—is that a good idea? No. Did you do it anyway because you physically can’t think before you act? Absolutely—and taking a long sip of it.

You pull the straw out once the liquid in the mug is at a good inch below the brim and then pour in the espresso shot, setting the glass down after you do so.

You look around for a second for a trash bin and find one just a few steps away from you, quickly throwing out the straw you’d used and then walking back over to the empty espresso glass, picking it up and setting it down by the sink. God forbid we get a dishwasher in here or something, You think absentmindedly as you pick up the mug and carefully walk out of the snack bar with it, Would it hurt to at least get some dish soap in here or something?

You make it out of the snack bar without burning your fingers and start the much longer walk to Soap’s sleeping quarters. You’d caught him walking out of his office in that direction earlier, so you can only assume that he’d gone there.

Once you make it there, you knock on the door a few times and wait for Soap to call out to you and allow you to come in before twisting the door knob and opening the door. He’s laying on his back on his bed, thumb paused on his phone screen as he looks over at you as you enter. He notices the coffee and sits up a bit, grunting as he does.

He wasn’t really as talkative after long missions like the one you’d all been on earlier—usually it took him a day or two to be more social and back to himself, so you didn’t take much offense to him not greeting you as loudly as he usually did.

He nods at the coffee, “Is that for me?”

“Mhm,” You hum, handing him the mug, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“Got it,” Soap carefully takes the mug into his hands, and softly blows on it before looking at you again and grinning at you, “Weel, thank ye for this. Ye really didnae hae tae.”

“Price actually said the same thing,” You muse, almost to yourself, before speaking a little louder, “No problem.”

“Oh did he?” Soap asks, raising an eyebrow, before his expression shifts and he feigns confusion, “Wait, how come he got a drink afore me?”

“Because his office was closer to the snack bar,” You explain, crossing your arms.

“… Nae, it’s definitely ‘cause ye hate me,” Soap disagrees, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “And tae think I thought we were friends.”

“It is no— you know what?” You begin to argue, before sighing and rolling your eyes, “I do hate you, and we were never friends, you ungrateful piece of shit.”

Soap laughs, quieter than he usually does but it’s still a genuine laugh. He looks down at the coffee again and back at you, before saying, “Thank ye. Again.”

“No problem,” You replied, walking back towards the door and opening it, walking out of Soap’s sleeping quarters and closing the door behind you. Now for Ghost.

Ghost typically liked tea more than coffee, but you think that’s just the British in him talking. Realistically, you could give him either or, and he’d say a polite ‘thank you’ and move on.

From years of being apart of the 141, any preferences or additives he liked to put in his tea or coffee slowly dissipated and instead he just drank either one plain. Which should make the tasks you’ve forced yourself to do today easier, but knowing you, you just couldn’t take the easy route with this.

You remember a conversation with him that happened several months ago where you had been talking about your own tea and coffee preferences. Ghost had commented that he didn’t often put any additives in his own hot drinks anymore, but back before he’d joined the military, he liked to drink keemun tea occasionally with nutmeg in it.

Keemun tea—which was fucking expensive by the way, costing around sixteen pounds for twenty tea bags in every store you could find them in—wasn’t too hard to find, so the next time you went on leave after that conversation, you’d bought a box of bags of keemun tea leaves and some ground nutmeg.

You didn’t let Ghost know about it, and kind of forgot about it just a week after you bought it, but now the memory of you buying it and storing it in the snack bar behind a few other boxes of tea bags has resurfaced and it’s the only thing you think is appropriate to give Ghost at a time like this.

You get back to the snack bar and almost robotically you pull a mug out from the cabinets above the counter and set it down on said counter, deciding to grab another one just so that you wouldn’t have to do it later, and setting that one down right next to the other. You open the cabinet beside that and move some of the boxes out of the way to find the keemun tea box in the very back, right where you last left it.

You snatch it out of the cabinet and open it, pulling out a small packet and opening it up to pull out the tea bag inside. You go ahead and put the tea bag inside of the mug and put the tea box back in the cabinet, closing the small cabinet door afterwards.

You then grab the electric kettle that’s right by the sink and pop open the lid, putting it under the faucet and turning said faucet on, waiting until the water fills a quarter of the kettle. Once it does, you turn off the faucet and put the kettle down right by the outlet on the wall.

You put the lid down and wait for it to click into place before you plug the kettle into the outlet and press the small button below the handle to turn it on, and listen as it starts to make a small whirring noise. You don’t waste too much time just standing there, waiting for the water to finish boiling, instead putting the other mug you’d pulled out from the cabinets under the coffee machine and turning it on.

You tap on the ‘decaf flat white’ option and watch the digital screen change and another whirring sound starts up, now coming from the coffee machine.

You were starting to make Gaz’s while making Ghost’s drink because Gaz often made the mistake of drinking his coffee before it was cool enough to not burn his tongue, so if you made it earlier, it’d have more time to cool, and Gaz wouldn’t have to wait as long before drinking it, therefore solving the whole ‘burning-his-tongue-because-he’s-impatient’ problem he has.

Gaz liked simple flat whites, and sure, he liked tea too, but nothing could top a good flat white for him. He’d get them anywhere and everywhere he can, and you honestly admire his dedication to getting a flat white everywhere he goes.

The coffee machine finished up quickly, a small beep sounding from the machine as it stopped its whirring and a few more drops of coffee made it into the mug before it completely stopped. You pull the mug out from under the machine and set it aside for now, just waiting for the water to finish boiling in the kettle.

Once the kettle clicks and the whirring from that machine stops, you unplug it and pour some water into the empty mug you’d picked out for Ghost, waiting until it’s filled up about a half inch below the brim of the mug before taking the kettle away from the mug and pouring the rest of the unused water into the sink.

You set the kettle down beside the coffee machine where it belongs and check the drawer below the one that held the eating utensils, looking through some of the spices and drink additives in it before finally finding the ground nutmeg you needed.

You unscrew the cap and tilt the small spice jar over the mug, letting some of the powder spill into the mug before tilting it back and screwing the cap back on. You put it back in its spot and close that drawer, now opening the drawer above it and grabbing a small spoon, closing that one after you’ve grabbed the spoon and putting the spoon into the mug to mix the spices in it around a bit.

You leave Gaz’s mug on the counter, hoping that nobody steals it while you’re away, and instead pick up the mug meant for Ghost, carefully walking out of the snack bar with it.

Ghost’s office is fairly far away, but you still manage to get there without burning your fingers or anything on the mug. You knock on the door a few times and wait for Ghost to call out permission for you to come in before you open the door and walk in.

Ghost immediately looks over at you and spots the mug in your hand, but ignores it for now, instead opting to ask, “Did you need something, [c/n]?”

“Not really,” You shrugged the best you could while holding scalding hot tea, “Just needed to give you this.”

You set the mug down on Ghost’s desk before he can say another word, and watch as he eyes the mug with curiosity and confusion.

“What’s this?” He asks, carefully picking up the mug, holding the top up to his nose to smell it. Before you can answer his question, you see his eyes widen and he questions a little louder, “Is this… keemun? With nutmeg?”

“You can tell just from the smell?” You ask, mildly impressed, watching as Ghost’s gaze turns into one more in awe of the mug.

“Yes, I can,” He mumbles, smelling the brim of the mug again, before looking over at you, “How did you know I liked keemun with nutmeg in it?”

“You told me about it, like, a few months ago. Six months ago, maybe? I dunno.”

“How do you remember a conversation from six months ago?”

“It was an important conversation, I guess?” You shrug, crossing your arms.

You watch in silence as Ghost eyes the tea and you take that as your sign to leave, walking towards the door, stopping right in front of it to twist the knob to open it before you’re interrupted by Ghost.

“Wait—” You turn your head and look at him over your shoulder, and immediately upon seeing his face, you think, oh my God is he tearing up? “Thank you, [c/n]. I really appreciate it.”

You offer a small smile and reply, “Yeah, no problem. Enjoy your tea.”

You open the door without another word and close it behind you, taking a deep breath before continuing down the hall back to the snack bar.

You’re relieved when you get there and see the mug, still steaming a bit, still on the counter. You quickly walk over to it and pick it up, walking right back out the door with it and heading straight for Gaz’s sleeping quarters. You remember him being so tired from the mission—you don’t know whether to hope he’s asleep and getting some rest, or to hope that he’s awake so you can properly hand him his coffee.

Once you make it to his sleeping quarters, you knock on the door, and there’s no response for a few moments, making you think he might actually be asleep, but then you hear Gaz’s drowsy voice call out, “You can come in!”

You open the door and see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting up on his bed, looking over at you. His lips twitch up into a small smile once he sees you and he lets his hand drop into his lap.

“Hey, [c/n].” He looks over at the mug you’ve brought with you, before raising an eyebrow, “You brought something for me?”

“Very bold of you to assume it’s for you,” You close the door behind you and walk closer to him, “But yes, it is.”

Gaz perks up a bit at that and happily takes the mug off of your hands once you hand it to him, and his smile grows significantly bigger once he sees you’ve brought him a flat white.

“It’s decaf, don’t worry,” You say, as if reading his mind, “I figured you’d still want some sleep after drinking it.”

“Always so considerate,” Gaz sighs teasingly, raising the mug to his lips like you’d thought he would. Thankfully, his tongue doesn’t burn this time after he sips the coffee, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the fact.

“You know me,” You respond dryly, crossing your arms as you watch Gaz take a few more sips of the coffee.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” Gaz thanks you, taking another sip of the coffee before stating, “I hope you know you’re my favorite now.”

“Your favorite what?”

“Just my favorite, in general,” Gaz hums, “This is the best flat white I’ve ever drunk. Ten out of ten.”

“Thanks,” You thank him flatly, “It was made with love and a coffee machine I learned how to use yesterday.”

“I can just taste the love in it.”

“Not the coffee machine?”

“Well, it’s a bit concerning if someone can taste the coffee machine in their coffee, innit?” Gaz raises an eyebrow at you before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Not if it’s the one I used.”

“Whatever you say,” Gaz mutters, taking yet another sip of his coffee, making you huff out a small laugh.

“You enjoy your coffee,” You say before walking back over to the door, closing the door behind you as you walk out and letting out a tired breath, starting to head back to your own sleeping quarters.

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