#powerless x reader

[angstywaifu]

Request Guidelines

My inbox is always open for requests, or even if you want to talk about my writing! Always happy to hear from you guys! If you want to see what I have already written please head over to my masterlist! I do my best to keep this as up to date as I can. But this is the best place to see what other fics and styles I have written. Be as vague or specific as you want with your requests! If there is something specific you want out of your request give me all the details! If you want to give me a prompt or scenario you've read in another book or tik tok etc, let me know and I will do what I can! Or be as vague as you want and let my imagination run wild! I am comfortable written fluff, angst and smut. I am pretty comfortable writing most things, but I would prefer to avoid any topics of sexual assault and self harm. I am fine to allude to it, but I will not base any fics around it. Besides that get as smutty or angsty as you want (I am not held responsible for how angsty I may get). Below are characters I am comfortable writing for, but feel free to suggest or request others. Just keep in mind if it is a character not listed below I may not do the prompt, or it may take me a while to get to. Also feel free to pick multiple, who honestly.... why choose if you don't have to. FOURTH WING: Garrick Tavis. Bodhi Durran. Brennan Sorrengail. Xaden Riorson. Dain Aetos. Liam Mairi. Will also consider Sawyer Henrick.

ACOTAR: Azriel. Cassian. CRESCENT CITY: Ruhn Dannan. Connor Holstrom POWERLESS: Kai Azer.

[midiosaamor]

❪ ✧ ❫ 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃... 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: malakai azer x fem!reader.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: after battle, kai has a knack for getting injured and not letting anyone help him. well, that is, except for you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: wounds, blood, flirting, tension, female reader, bandages, stitches, slight gore (?), fluff i guess?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 869

𝐀/𝐍: heres to all my girls who want a kai azer fic but theres absolutely 0, aka this poor, innocent soul. kinda happy that im the first person to make this (i think? oh my god if im actually not it’ll just make me look like an egomaniac even though i kind of am but im not i just have a huge pride DTOPIT) also sorry this took so long lmao😭

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐈 “𝐊𝐀𝐈“ 𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @nqds @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle

this was the third time. the third time he had hurt himself in battle.

yes, you get that he’s fighting and he’ll get hurt no matter what. but for god's sake, you feel like he almost purposely hurts himself in battle.

so, here you are, dragging the king’s second son to the healing room, scolding him as he follows you like a puppy.

“i can’t believe it, kai. the third time. i swear, one of these days, i won’t be here to heal you,” you rant, not even looking behind you to see if the man is still following you.

you could almost feel him chuckling at your antics, thinking that you’re being over dramatic. which, in your opinion, you definitely aren’t.

you walk into the healing room and push the nineteen-year-old onto the bed. his chin is still dripping with blood, and bleeding scars are scattered around his muscular form.

“i’ll be fine, sweetheart. it’s only a few wounds; i’m not dying,” he taunts, rolling his eyes. you shoot the enforcer a harsh glare as you dig for some bandages and stitches.

your eyes glance to his rib, a long, deep, red wound traveling through his skin. you know that it pains him to sit and walk with that wound, but you also know that his father, the king, made him able to handle pain like that.

“sure,” you say sarcastically, get out the bandages once you find them. you put them on the stray, along with the stitches.

“why don’t you let the healers handle this, it’ll be much easier.” kai looks at you with a deadpan expression before shrugging. “i don’t want them to,” he says simply. you blink before glaring at him again, slamming the forceps you found on top of the tray along with the bandages.

“moron,” you mutter, making him grin bloodily at you. you roll your eyes, get a cloth, and start to gently tap his lip with the cloth, drying the blood.

you accidentally look up just to see him staring at you, making eye contact. his gray eyes glance between your own, his lips separating slightly.

gulping, you look away and dig in the counter for some alcohol for his wounds. you hear him sigh from behind you as you take the alcohol out.

“take off your shirt.” kai looks at you in amusement before taking off his shirt.

you’ve done this before; making him take off a piece of clothing so you could bandage his wounds without trouble, but it never fails to make blush come to your cheeks and your stomach flutter with butterflies.

kai looks up at you with a knowing look in his eyes, a small smirk forming on his lips. you clench your jaw before turning to the tray beside you and getting the alcohol.

you pour the liquid on the cloth in your hand before putting it on the large cut—probably made by a sword or someone with powers—on his defined —muscular but lean—chest.

you hear him hiss in pain, though you still feel his eyes on you. “that’ll need stitches. now, if you’d ask a proper healer, i would’ve just healed it with powers, but since i’m not…” you trail off, giving him a deadpan look.

“no, i’m—fine,” he grunts, his hands clenching the sheets underneath him. rolling your eyes, you grab the forceps and carefully grab the needle with it.

“you ready?”

“this isn’t the first time i needed stitches, sweetheart, i’ll be fine.”

“whatever.”

you hear a sharp hiss whenever you stick the needle into his skin. carefully, you start to stitch his wound back up—along with his hisses and held-in grunts of pain.

once you're finished, you cut the string and put the needle back on the tray. (idk man idk to do stitches) for the rest of the wounds, you get the alcohol and put it on the cotton again before cleaning the other small cuts and wounds.

“you’re a natural at this—thanks to me, of course,” kai murmurs, hissing halfway through. you glare at the man as you get the bandages, starting to bandage the wounds on his chest.

“that’s not something to brag about, kai. if anything you should be embarrassed,” you hiss, continuing to bandage up his wounds.

he hums and you feel his eyes on you again, watching you. he continues to stare at you until eventually you can’t handle his heated gaze on you and lift your head, meeting his eyes.

your breath catches in your throat as you lift your head a bit too close to his, feeling your cheeks get warm.

kai’s gaze travels to your other eye, to eventually your lips, then back to your other eye. instinctively, you lick your lips to wet them, making kai’s attention travel back to your lips.

you see him lean in ever so slowly, as if silently asking if he could kiss you. “can i—”

the door swings open and you quickly jump back, separating you and kai. looking towards the door, you see the blond hair of his big brother, kitt.

he looks between the two of you suspiciously, lifting an eyebrow. “was i, uh, interrupting something?” he asks.

“no.”

“kind of.”

“kai—”

[artstatues]

Yield, darling? - k.a × reader

wc : 817

pairings : kai azer x fem! reader, from powerless.

synopsis : you and kai grew up together, trained together, and now you guys were what people called best friends, until one particular training session.

a/n : this is my first x reader and my first time professionally writing a kiss so god bear with me but yeah and its been 2 hours so idek man

requested tag : @thisiskaylin, @urbanflorals, @reminiscentreader, @moondust-on-the-hijabi, @lxvebelle.

Malakai Azer was your best friend. He’s been your best friend since you were 12. Since you were old enough for your dad, the general, to take you to the castle. He’d take you there on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays. You loved and cherished every visit. You met the Princes of Ilya on your 4th visit, as the king saw how well you behaved. Well, of course you behaved, the only thing you did at the castle all day was walk around, explore more and more. By now you’ve memorized the entire layout of the castle. All 4 floors, you know how to get out, get in, noticed or unnoticed. But during those visits, you also began to train with the princes. At first, you preferred training with Kitt, since he was older than you, so was Kai, but you always felt like Kitt knew better, fought better. You were so wrong. He was a good fighter, yes, but the thing was, he’d always let you win. It wouldn’t be called training if he kept letting you win, so you tried training with Kai. You assumed he didn’t know much, since he trained with dummies and figures but oh boy were you horribly wrong. He terribly beat you up. Bruises everywhere, leaving your mother to scold you. You’ve barely talked to him before, but he eventually grew warmer, and didn’t absolutely beat you up all the time. Sometimes, you even switched mediums to using swords instead of hand to hand combat.

“Darling, enough, you’re going to ruin my gorgeous face.” Kai teased before sidestepping to avoid your stab of an attack. “Oh it’s not so gorgeous right now Kai,” You smirked before ducking to protect yourself from his blow, immediately taking advantage of his position to get behind him and pressed your dagger to his neck. “Yield?” Your smirk from earlier had returned. You’ve never been this close together before. Yes the both of you trained endlessly, but it never got this close. Well excluding the one time Kai had you pinned against a tree, knife to your throat. Even that wasn’t as close. You were pretty sure that he could feel your chest heaving. “Not so easily darling,” He smiled before making use of the fact that you were breathless, and the grip on your dagger was sloppy, since you were in fact, breathless. He flipped you over, your back landing harshly on the ground. Oh yeah, something’s definitely wrong in your skeletal system now. You audibly groaned, your face scrunched up in pain. Your dagger did do its job, though, it lightly tore Kai’s skin, resulting in a harsh hiss leaving his kissable lips. He wiped off some of the blood before you got up. Kai held his dagger, backing you up to a tree. Your back hit the tree, you winced because you were really done with this shit. “Kai I can’t-” You finally spoke up, but because of that, he strode to you in one long step, weapon hitting your throat. “Yield then, darling.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear. You could feel his smirk through your skin, but at the same time something tingled in your stomach, you were sure that your face was flush red now. You tried looking down to hide it only for Kai to tilt your head back up with his dagger. “Don’t hide away now, darling.” He still had that stupid smirk on his handsome face. His hand, equipped with the dagger, fell to his side. The tip of his dagger met your hand, trying to convince you to drop the weapon, and you did, because by his body language, you could tell that the atmosphere had changed. “Kai-” You whispered. He dropped his own weapon with a soft thud, or a clatter, you couldn’t even tell at this point, your mind hazy at him, the smell of his cologne, his body being this close to you. He leaned closer, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear. All this training likely made your braid loose. “May I?” He asked, his eyes darkening. You could feel your knees weaken and your face getting hotter. You gave him a subtle nod and with that, it felt like you just entered the gateways of heaven, literally. His hands were on you, they were everywhere, one on your neck, the other pinning your hips to the tree. His lips were soft, so soft- delicate- gentle, tender- but also hungry, impatient- You ran out of words to describe it, but it sure as hell was the best thing you’ve experienced. Kai pulled away, “Plagues, darling, you really are something-” He gasped before kissing you again. You were breathless at this point, but even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Kai did, eventually, “So, darling, what do you say? Yield?” He smirked, his tone laced with husk.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: moonlight dance

paring: kai azer x reader

synopsis: you’re a contestant in the purging trials, who has lived in the slums your whole life. at a ball, you need a breather, but an uninvited guest appears and alters any previous plans of serenity

warnings:

a/n: thanks for reading 🤍🤍

tag list: @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @whatsamongus @zaraaaabear @tornqdowarnings @emelia07

You stand outside still in your ballgown. The cool air that laps your face feels nice, fresh in your lungs. You breathe rhythmically, melodically. You’d never cared much for dances and certainly not ones held for these stupid trials, so this escape was perfect. It’s not like anyone would miss your presence anyway. The moon shines down into the gardens and reflects a silvery shadow on the surface of the pond. Beautiful.

“Dance with me?”

You spin around after hearing the familiar voice. Azer. Of course he’d be the only person to follow you out of a ball you were desperately trying to escape, pulling attention to the whole matter.

“I don’t dance,” you reply curtly, turning back to the moonlit pond.

“It wasn’t a request, love,” he murmurs, coming up dangerously close behind you, “we’re dancing.”

Classic, cocky, self-entitled prince. He thinks he can command anyone to do anything. But he picked the wrong girl to try and domineer. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, making you shiver slightly. He’s trying to be intimidating.

You angle your face towards him slightly and shoot him a sickly sweet smile, “try and make me, sweetheart.”

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice,” he shrugs, making it appear like you had a choice in this matter.

“I don’t dance,” you repeat bluntly, wondering why he was struggling so greatly to understand three simple words.

“I don’t believe you,” he replies, taking you by the waist. His hands cup it perfectly as he guides you away from the ponds edge. He takes of your hands and interlocks his fingers with yours, as the two of your begin to move.

“What are you doing?” you ask, not pulling away just yet, something about this position wouldn’t let you.

“Dancing,” he responds simply, spinning you around.

“I told you I don’t-“

“You don’t dance,” he finishes with a roll of the eyes, “yes, I recall you mentioning a few times. But what are you doing now?”

Much to your annoyance, he was right. The two of you are dancing to the dying hum of music coming all of the way from the ball you were trying to escape. But for some reason you don’t mind this. You don’t mind his hands on your body or the closeness of your faces. In this moment it didn’t matter who you were and what you thought. You are just two strangers dancing under the moon.

“Why did you run away from the ball? Trying to pull a Cinderella stunt?” he asks quietly.

“Why did you follow me? Trying to be my Prince Charming?” you reply, a challenging eyebrow raised.

He acknowledges it and grins, “touché.”

You fall back into a comfortable silence, finding solace in the methodical movement of a routine. 1 2 3 4…. 1 2 3 4…. 1 2 3 4 …. you don’t think, you just move. And for once, it’s blissful not to have so much on your mind.

“Suspicious you were so insistent on dancing with me,” you say, as he twirls you around again, “one might assume you were desperate.”

“Desperate to see you make a fool of yourself,” he quips back grinning, “you really are quite horrible at this.”

“Apologies,” you reply, sarcasm dripping from your tone, “are my steps not up to your standard, your majesty?”

He scrunches his nose at the title, you like making him feel like this. Inferior. A feeling he’s probably not used to, that you know like the palm of your hand.

“Suspicious you agreed to dance, it didn’t take much persuasion and you haven’t stopped,” he points out, “one might assume you’re actually enjoying yourself.”

He mirrors the way you worded your sentence to get under your skin and annoyingly it’s working. You don’t think you’ve ever hated a man more in your entire life and that’s when you feel the blade that is stuck to your upper thigh.

“I want to take the knife strapped to my thigh and ram it into your chest,” I smile sweetly, “that’s how much I’m enjoying myself.”

“A knife? Are you flirting with me?” he smirks, grey eyes lighting up with this new found amusement or was it hope?

“In your dreams sweetheart,” you laugh, the nickname popping back up in a petty attempt to get under his skin.

He smiles and his whole face lights up. You hate yourself for thinking it but the truth is, he has a beautiful smile. Alluring and mesmerising.

He utters three small words, the smile never leaving his lips, “I hate you.”

You open your mouth to reply but don’t get a word out because Kai takes your chin tentatively and tilts your head upwards, smoothly planting a kiss on your lips.

At first you’re frozen in the pure shock of the act but you don’t break away. You don’t want to break away. It feels so nice to be wanted, to be spoiled. And then suddenly you’re kissing back and you don’t know why. Your hands are buried deep in his hair and you’re pushing your upper body against his. He kisses back even harder, the roughness throwing you off guard but you feel you like it. That you want more of it. You encourage his lips further.

That is until your brain kicks in and you realise the nature of the situation. You quickly tear yourself away, ashamed you’d let it go this far, angry at him for paralysing your brain with his mouth. You’re breathing heavily and you’re confused. Your head and your heart are torn in two completely different places. You look up and lock eyes with him, falling into endless puddles of grey. You try and form a sentence but you’ve forgotten how.

“Goodnight darling,” the prince winks, before spinning on his heel and walking off into the moonlight, leaving you stood there frozen and speechless.

What just happened?

a/n: thanks for the request anon!! sorry it took me a little while… hope you enjoyed this 🤍🤍

powerless masterlist

[whousestypewriters]

friends till the end right? - k.a x reader

pairing: kai azer x reader

requested: yes / no

warnings: swearing

a/n: im living off of these crumbs until i get my hands on reckless fr. this'll be he last fic queued/posted until i get back lovelies. hope you enjoy mwah <33

taglist: @nqds, @lxvebelle, @reminiscentreader, @off-to-the-r4ces, @ecliphttlunar

@tornqdowarnings

kai azer was your friend.

your bestfriend.

you grew up together, he, just one week older than you basically being your guide into life. you both know he's full of shit and that he just likes to brag that he's older.

you've been by his side for all of it. the awful way edric treated him - which you still want to shove a dagger up edric's ass for by the way - to sneaking into the kitchen and eating lemon tarts with him.

you're his other half and he's yours.

he was by your side when your parents died, never once leaving you during those awful days. he pulled you out of your slump and brought you back to life.

so yeah....

you were close.

and although you were possibly the closets friends in ilya. you wanted more. you wanted to be the girl he looked at in every room the girl who he would recognise anywhere. you wanted to be his girl.

but that wasn't happening anytime soon. it was mere delusional thinking.

"hey, darling," kai's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "you just gonna lie there all day?"

sighing you open your eyes and look up to kai. "it is rather comfy," you grumble at him. shutting your eyes and the image of kai and the colorful morning sky out.

"well its not my fault you tripped mid-spar."

"EXCUSE ME?" you practically fly up off the ground in anger. "I DID NOT TRIP YOU LITTLE SHIT-" you yell before kai cuts you off with a hand to your mouth.

"hush, you don't want to wake the entire kingdom with your loud ass mouth, you'd think you were a damn amplifier not tele."

you scoff and shove him back, causing him to stumble a little. "i'm going to murder you in your sleep."

"i get to look at your pretty face while dying? thats the greatest gift," kai smirks at you before shoving you back into a nearby tree, "and that was payback for shoving me."

"you deserved my shove. I didn't deserve yours," you huff leaning against the tree while kai looked at you from a few feet away. "what?" you ask. "do i have something on my face? if its dirt im blaming you, i've got lessons all morning after this."

he had an indecipherable look on his face. it only added to your confusion when he stepped closer, his body crowding yours the heat rolling off his skin and onto yours. still looking at you strangely he raises his hand slowly moving towards your face.

"what are you doing?" you meant it to sound questioning and stern but it just came out all breathy and high pitched.

his hand brushed you cheek as he raised it and pulled a twig from your hair. "you had something in your hair," his voice was soft and the moment crackled between the two of you.

there was no reason for you two to be standing that close. it was purely choice. and when kai's head dipped a little you almost gasped at how close you two were.

this was it, oh my god, you were getting your moment? that delusion was turning into a reality.

your breaths mingled together and you're ninety percent sure when kai's hand cupped your cheek and the other grabbed your waist you died a little inside - in the good way.

this was it.

"good morning guys!" a voice came from the other side of the training grounds as kitt strolled leisurely into the area.

kai stepped back from you quickly and headed over to chat with his brother but not before sending you a look that made you want to grin like a school girl.

maybe those delusions weren't so wrong after all.

[midnighttrainns]

can you kiss it better, kai azer

kai azer x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, violence/fighting & blood, like one swear word, suggestive.

summary: Kai and reader are sparring in practice for the trials, she hurts him and he asks for a kiss as an apology and a little more ends up happening.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is my first fic so yay!

masterlist

With the upcoming trials everyone has been training more than usual, I’m lost in my thoughts training with my Bloom (plant manipulation) abilities near the tree border when I feel a presence behind me sending brambles up from the ground making them snake around their legs and up their arms as quick as lightning before turning around to see who snuck up on me.

Kai Azer. 

He now stands in front of me with his arms crossed and a cocky smirk gracing his face. “Hey darling,” he chuckles looking down at the brambles holding his body in place. “As much as I love your little plants could you let me go please?” He asks looking back at me.

“Wow, Azer, you have manners?” I tease taking a few steps closer to him.

“Only for you, y/n.” His smirk turns into a wide grin as he watches my brambles wind back into the earth beneath us.

I laugh dryly, “Did you come over here for a reason?”

“Spar with me?” He questions and I nod in response.

He smiles leading me over to the sparring ring. We each grab a sword off the rack and get into a fighting stance, circling each other. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kitt and Jax approach us, watching from the sidelines. I stare at Kai waiting for him to make the first move and he does stepping towards me and swinging his blade in my direction. I raise my sword blocking his strike. We go back and forth attacking and defending until he catches me off guard and knocks me to the ground. He follows me down pinning me to the ground.

Our bodies are pressed together as he says, “I win,” with an extremely cocky smirk thinking it’s the end and I’m going to tap out.

“No,” I heave pushing up and flipping us over so I’m straddling him and summoning vines from the dirt winding them around his wrists and ankles making sure he can’t move. “You don’t.” With our swords now out of reach, I grab a dagger from my boot and press it to his neck applying pressure. For a few seconds, he just stares at me breathing heavily before speaking.

“I guess I underestimated you,” he admits.

“You would think after all these years of y/n beating you, you would learn brother,” Kitt calls from the side.

I look over in their direction forgetting they still stood, watching us. When I look back at Kai he leans his head up and with the pressure I’m putting on the dagger it slices his skin, not deep enough to cause serious damage but his blood still leaks from the wound. When I see the blood I retract my blade standing up and removing my vines allowing him to move.

He stands up and wipes the blood from his neck, bringing his hand up to inspect it. “Look what you’ve done to me, darling.”

“Come on you big baby,” I tease grabbing his hand and leading him out of the sparring ring. When we pass Kitt and Jax I look at them as Jax winks at me and Kitt smiles widely. Once we pass them and head up the path to the palace I hear them laughing.

The sounds of our feet were the only thing filling the silence on the way to Kai’s room. We enter his bathroom and he leans against the sink while I get out the medical kit.

“You know I can go to a healer, right?” Kai asks.

“I know” I reply not giving him a further explanation.

I get out a wipe and begin to clean the blood from his neck without warning. He hisses in pain when the wipe makes contact with his skin giving me an unimpressed look. I finish cleaning the cut and step back looking up at his face meeting his eyes that were already staring at me with an emotion I couldn’t place.

“You know what will make this better?” He gestures to his neck, “A kiss.”

“A what?” I scoff at him, the disbelief and confusion evident in my voice.

“A kiss. Can you kiss it better?” Kai repeats back to me clarifying his question.

“Are you serious Kai?”

“Oh darling, I have never been more serious in my life.”

I stare at him for what feels like a long time but in reality, it’s probably only been a minute contemplating what I should do. He’s offering me to kiss his neck, the man I have loved since I first saw him wants me to kiss him. Against my better judgement, I lean in and gently place my lips on the cut and kiss him. I pull back and look into his eyes which are now filled with surprise and lust, like he didn’t expect me to do it. His hands find their way to my waist pulling me in closer. So close. Too close. He leans down and captures my lips in a hungry kiss. Before I even realise what is happening my body moves on its own, hands wrapping around his neck bringing him impossibly closer and kissing him back harder.

Kai Azer is kissing me. Kai fucking Azer is kissing me. This must be a dream.

We pull back breathlessly, taking a few moments to recover and process what just happened.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that,” Kai speaks breaking the silence.

I kiss him again in response and when I feel his tongue brush against my lips I open my mouth allowing him access. His tongue enters my mouth and I move my hands up to his hair, running my fingers through it. Everything we have felt for each other over the years is poured into the kiss, it’s magical. The things this man does to me. I can feel the control on my powers slip and vines are emerging from the tiled bathroom floor, travelling up the walls and across our feet. I pull away when I realise what is happening and get ahold of my powers and force the vines back into the floor. I look at Kai to see him with a huge smile on his face and opening his mouth to speak but before any words come out I interrupt him.

“Don’t start,” I jab an accusing finger in his direction.

“I wasn’t going to say anything” he defends holding his hands up earning him a skeptical look in response.

I grab his hand in mine and once again place my lips on his giving him a short, sweet kiss. Pulling away I look out the bathroom door into his bedroom and see the sun begin to set outside the window.

“Dinner must be soon. If we don’t go down now we will be late,” I tell him, “Kitt and Jax will be wondering where we disappeared to.”

“I just had my tongue down your throat and you’re thinking about my brother?” He questions.

“And Jax,” I add laughing, “And trust me I won’t forget about that kiss for a long time.”

“Me too darling,” He agrees and for a moment longer we stand there staring into each other's eyes.

I grab his hand leading him out of his room as he follows closely behind, “Come on Azer.”

“Can we continue this later?” Kai asks from behind me as we exit his room.

“I’ll think about it,” I say looking back and smiling to let him know that I was only joking and we will definitely be continuing this after dinner.

[temozarela]

-> isn't it good, norwegian wood?

GETO X READER MDNI, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut, angsty geto, comfort, reader is kinda tired, plot

you and geto meet 6 years after his defection

WORD COUNT: 8.6k

TAGS: @sakuichan, @username23345

part 1

ao3 version

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. You were supposed to be completing a report but the sun had long set and your brain refused to cooperate. Down-heartedly, you buried your head in your hands, stifling a yawn. Everything just seemed so… bad. Your hair was greasy, you were beginning to smell yourself through your deodorant and perfume, your coffee was cold, and you were the only person left in the office. Even Nanami had gone home 2 hours prior, leaving you to struggle over your half-finished report. Unfortunately for yourself and your coworkers, there has been an influx of curse users in Japan, meaning that your compulsory hours had been increased. At first you were delighted by the idea of some extra pocket money, but with all of the work you had been doing, there was no time to enjoy it. You knew it was getting worse too, you hadn't seen Gojo in a week and Shoko’s dark circles were deepening with every wave of injured sorcerers that washed up at her office. Of course, the higher-ups weren’t any help, so it had become the norm for you to wake up at 6am and return home at 10pm as you cracked down on the damages that the elders refused to assist with. This had been happening for a few months now, and you were exhausted. If it were any other situation, you’d request time off, but you knew that your coworkers would take on the burden if you didn’t. So there you were, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to recount your hectic shift. It seemed so cruel, after stepping over so many dead bodies and dodging death countless times yourself, to be forced to relive it so soon. If they wanted to know what was happening, they could see for themselves. In fact, you’d welcome it. Maybe then, they’d dish out the work a bit more ethically.

You blinked slowly, attempting to force a rise of energy inside of you. You didn’t want to fall asleep at work again. Somewhere in the background, rain pattered against the windows. Shit. You reluctantly glanced at your screen, squinting at the brightness in contrast with the dark room. Realistically, you knew that you weren’t going to get anything else done that night, but you also knew that if you didn’t do it then, you would have to do it later. You groaned, wanting to slam your head against your desk more than anything. Tomorrow. You’d do it tomorrow. If you went home then and had a decent sleep, you’d be more motivated tomorrow. That’s what you told yourself. You were more than happy to turn the computer off and pack up your belongings. More and more, you were glad that you commuted by train, because the naps you took then were sacred, driving would’ve pushed you over the edge.

Arriving home looked like throwing your shit on the floor and staring blankly at the fridge, realising you were supposed to shop for groceries that day. Tomorrow you were headed into the countryside to check out suspicious activity, there was no way you’d be able to get your shopping done then. Usually you did city missions, but you were covering for the students. God knows they were doing too much as well. You sighed. There were enough ingredients for you to cook a meal, but you were so tired right now… you could go without… just for one night. Some nights you didn’t even change out of your clothes and you had given up on makeup a while back. At this point, your home felt like it was only your bed. Your TV, speakers, sofas, and books had gone untouched for so long, you’d be surprised if they weren’t blanketed with dust by now. You showered, of course, but it seemed like a mere blink before your body hit your bed. Sleep didn’t rest you anymore, but it was some sort of break in the chaos of your life. At the very least, you were happy to have that.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The commute into rural Japan was pleasantly silent. It relaxed you to watch the swaying meadows roll past, the white splodges of sheep like a stroke of oil paint as the train hurtled past. You vaguely registered one or two others on the other side of the carriage, you remembered the monk especially. To your knowledge, it was your first time seeing a monk in public. Initially, the journey had been like any other: salesmen upon salesmen, and then a few. Each figure amongst the shuffling mass clad in a suit and tie, dark hair brushed back, and mouths set in a practised line between grey, hollow cheeks as they scrutinised each other through their furrowed eyebrows like some sort of Kubrick character. As the familiar robotic voice announced the train’s arrival at the city-centre, an encore of clicking shoes and soft whines of swinging briefcases played in a harsh crescendo, the piece hitting its chorus as the doors opened, and the salesmen poured out like river water through a broken dam. After that, it was quiet. On a weekday morning, not many were heading into the middle of nowhere, but it made sense to you that a monk might. The other man looked like a foreigner, so that wasn’t widely suspicious to you either, though you might have considered it further had you slept more the previous night. After an hour or so, your eyelids fluttered shut and you began to drift in and out of sleep, the beginnings of gentle conversation between the few other passengers barely registered by you, their low voices becoming incomprehensible as they were drowned out by the ambience of the train. Perhaps, if you had been more alert, you would have noticed that they were heading to the location of the investigation. Maybe, if you had realised that, you would have listened closer and overheard the utterance of a very familiar name. However, the world around you was in limbo, your drowsiness dosing your nerves in soothing honey as your eyelashes rested against your warm cheeks. Sleep was euphoric. It had become such a relief to you that you had abandoned any hopes of seeking pleasure through strangers or potential romantic interests, the effort of understanding and compromising was exhausting in itself and your mind still hadn’t gotten over your teen fling. You thought about it sometimes, the potential to reunite with him, but every year it seemed more and more impossible. Since he left, your coworkers relied on you more and watched you with the underlying concern that one day you would slip through their fingers. Although, another reason lingered at the back of your head. It had been 6 years, did he even still want you? You told others that you had moved on, but he waited at the back of your mind, tapping his foot impatiently. He appeared in your dreams as a looming shadow, only recognisable through the kind smile it bore. You also saw him sometimes in the faces of others, their dark eyes making you stop in the headlight of their stare- so close, yet so different to the expression you could love. Besides those torturous reminders, what you could remember of him was hazy, in fact you barely remembered what he looked like. That didn’t stop you from missing him, however. You remembered the comfort he once brought you. Perhaps that was what you missed most, more than his body or charm.

You blinked hazily as the train approached your stop. Lethargically, you reached for your bags, pulling them over your shoulder as you stepped off into the station, distantly followed by the other two passengers from your carriage. You winced as you finally made it outside, light rain beginning to fall from the greying sky. However, it was fulfilling to inhale the fresh air- much fresher than the air at Shibuya station- as you rushed to your taxi, and drove towards the investigation site which, today, was an abandoned hospital. Before your arrival, you instantly knew there was something wrong. It wasn’t unusual that the area was void of human life, after all, it wasn’t near any residential areas. Sure, it wasn’t particularly unusual that the plantation was yellow and clearly overgrown either. However, two of the windows on the second floor had been shattered, which wasn’t particularly unusual by itself, but the broken shards were littered below the outside of the building, rather than the inside. See, that was unusual. It had been broken from inside. Someone had needed to escape. Fast. Discreetly. There were fire exits left, right, and centre- as you’d expect from a hospital- it was strange that someone would choose to evacuate from a window on the second story. You knew it must have been an ugly building, even before it was neglected, the dull boxiness of the hospital seeming like the kind of brutalist hellscape you’d find in a post-Soviet city. The upper edges of the building were blackened by the weather, and the only visible colour could be found in the yellowed blinds which clattered and trembled behind the savaged windows. Your wary gaze found a half-filled syringe containing ominous orange liquid, discarded in the mud. It made sense since it was a hospital… but when you really thought about it… how did it end up there? It looked like this place had been practically untouched since its closure which was… probably around 10 years ago…

A shiver ran down your spine.

If the curse had anything to do with needles, you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around, you decided.

You hadn’t really been given clear instructions, in fact, you weren’t given much more than a place and a time. With a glance at your watch, you noted that you were 5 minutes early as planned, so it made some sort of sense to why you couldn’t see the window you were supposed to be meeting. It was only meant to be a quick chat to fill you in on the details before you looked for yourself, but you had assumed they may have arrived a little early anyway. Apparently that wasn’t the case, so you waited in the rain, feet planted in the overgrown grass and shivering as cold droplets trickled down your neck. The next time you checked your watch, it was the time of the meeting, and there wasn’t a single person in sight. Momentarily, you considered venturing inside. Maybe something had happened to them. You glanced around. The guy couldn’t have gotten lost, could he? It’s a pretty obvious landmark.

10 minutes late.

You were getting restless. And drenched.

The window could wait, you were heading inside.

The front door was unlocked, most likely in anticipation of your visit, and you walked into what you assumed had once been the reception. Everything was so… grey. You could tell that at one point, they had made an effort of decorating with bright colours, but years of neglect had sucked out the life like a backstreet dentist, leaving everything the same dull grey; not to discount the slight variations such as grey-with-a-hint-of-mustard-yellow and grey-but-slightly-pink-but-it’s-mostly-grey-who-are-you-fooling. It stank of wet paper and what you prayed wasn’t asbestos, as well as a lingering trace of chemicals. The mould was a delightful pop of colour however, adding a daring element of almost-grey-but-green onto the aged, pale wallpaper. You grimaced, seriously considering whether the window had been organised to hand over a hazmat suit and a Bible before you gave your life to spilled cleaning agents and an undiscovered fungus. Perhaps they’d name it after you when you died. It was the least they could do, really.

After you journeyed up the dark stairs, you approached the operating rooms, and a wash of dread doused you like cold water. Whatever it was, you were close to it. Very close.

Because of your distinct lack of briefing, you barely knew who or what you’d be facing. There was a growing feeling that you recognised something, whether it was the cursed energy signature from the imminent threat or the familiar arms of your creator, it sparked a powerful reaction in your gut. You squinted, trying to make out the outline of the doorway using the little daylight that reached the corridor. You couldn’t help but notice how it was shockingly tidy. Sure, it was fucking disgusting, but everything was in its right place, tucked away by the ghostly hands of a nurse one decade ago. For some reason, it made it all the more terrifying. You stopped in front of the door, attempting to breathe through the suffocating pressure of whatever was beyond the door. It really was familiar, but it was too powerful for you to focus on it. It was like trying to fight a court trial whilst being waterboarded, and you weren’t entirely sure you could do it in normal conditions anyway, but you definitely couldn’t whilst partially submerged in liquid. You knew that for sure. The sheer amount of cursed energy seeping through the cracks of the door was headache-inducing. You gritted your teeth.

It was disastrously clear, then. Whatever or whoever was on the other side of the door was not your intended opponent. This mission should’ve been a field trip for you. This, however. This was a Gojo-level enemy. Not as strong, of course, but it lay somewhere in the gaping gap between the strongest grade 1 sorcerer and Gojo himself. Needless to say, it was too strong for you. You could accept that fact easily. In all honesty, your pride had left you the moment you entered the hospital.

Slowly, you backed away from the door, eyes fixed on the source of the outrageous cursed energy signature. It was consuming, the same way smoke engulfs a room. Your breaths were shallow and your limbs felt numb, you were probably shaking too, but you knew it would be ok if you kept your existence unknown and made a nimble escape. As dull light began to assist your vision, relief filled you. You were almost out. A few more steps and you’d be back in the stairwell. Then you could run.

Except you couldn’t. Because your back had hit a wall. A wall that hadn’t been there before.

You looked left, then right.

No… there definitely… shouldn’t be a wall behind you…

Oh, God.

“Are you the window?” you nervously grinned at nobody in particular. You were staring too, wide-eyed at the dark corridor before you, well-aware of your hands shaking, “You’re awfully late, you know…”

“My apologies.”

“Ha…”

The sound of a smooth, human voice was somewhat of a relief to you.

You could talk your way out of this one.

“You know, I’ve been waiting for this for a very… long… time...”

…Or maybe you couldn’t.

Inwardly you groaned, wanting to cry, “Fancy being a good Samaritan and forgive me for my sins?” you tried. It was always worth preaching kindness to your potential murderer in what could very well be your final moments. They didn’t teach that at school, but it must’ve worked at least once before, right?

“Enlighten me.” The person- a man- behind you sounded stiff.

“I dunno,” you smiled weakly, “It might seem difficult to believe but… there could be a few people who’d have a bone to pick with me right now.”

The man behind you hummed in thought, “I’m shocked.”

“Really?” Since you started working more hours, you’d dealt with countless curse users. It’d be a surprise to you if there wasn’t a request for your bounty for you on some dodgy website. As much as you’d love a copy of your own ‘DEAD OR ALIVE’ poster to frame, the ‘ALIVE’ part terrified you. Unfortunately, being a wanted person wasn’t quite the honour that Luffy made it out to be.

“No.”

You scowled. In response, the man’s voice rang out behind you, “You don’t recognise me?”

“Aww,” you turned your head slightly to grin over your shoulder, “Did you think you were special? I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear that we weren’t gonna be exclusive.”

Suddenly you were being spun around.

“Are you sure that you don’t recognise me?”

You blinked.

You blinked twice.

That voice…

“Holy shit.”

The man looked at you in the dark.

“You’re that monk from the train.” …No… you knew him...

The man’s grip on you tightened, “Come on...”

You winced, “Is that… not it?” When he didn’t reply, you partially disregarded your fear in lieu of guilt, leaning closer to squint at him, “I can’t really see, sorry...”

“Oh, hang on-”

No, you definitely recognised him… buried deep in your subconscious… somewhere…

“Holy shit.” you exclaimed.

“Geto?”

Exasperated, Geto looked down at you.

“Obviously.”

“Sorry.” you smiled, sheepishly, “You wouldn’t have happened to see a window around here, would you?”

Geto’s frowned, “There never was one, it was a set-up.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to intercept the students… but you’re here instead.” You cringed.

Man, he’s pissed…

“Geeze, sorry.” you drawled.

It was strange seeing him again. Truthfully, you had no idea how to act around him. You still couldn’t see him very well, but the glistening gold silk on his robes made him shine like a heavenly figure, though considering his criminal record… he probably wouldn’t be an angel.

There were better places to run into your teen crush-turned-serial killer.

“There’s a special grade curse in there.” you pointed to the operating room you’d just backed away from.

Geto looked at you strangely, “I know, I put it there.”

Of course.

“Seriously?” you muttered, embarrassed, “Almost gave me a heart attack, you know…”

An awkward silence arose between the two of you. You had planned your reunion with him countless times when you were younger. Out of the hundreds of different scenarios, none of them started like this.

“I… um…” you scratched the back of your neck, “Wanna go outside? It’s just… it’s dark in here… I can’t, you know…” you cleared your throat, “I can’t see you.”

“It’s raining.” Geto replied dubiously, watching you as if he expected something,

You raised an eyebrow, “You scared or somethin’?”

Geto snorted, “Of course not, excuse me for not wanting to get soaked.”

“Right.” you’d forgotten about the rain, it wasn’t difficult to believe that it had gotten heavier than before, “We can sit in the reception if you don’t mind getting mesothelioma.”

“It’s not exactly ideal,” Geto sighed, “but sure that works.”

You wanted to slap yourself for the awkwardness between the two of you, but there was something about it which reminded you of your fondness for Geto. That was it, wasn’t it? The fact you were always able to be a social disaster around him was what initially drew you to him. He was patient, but not pitiful. Truthfully, sometimes he was even worse than you.

He followed you to the bottom floor as you headed towards the front door. Once you were outside, you turned to get a proper look at him. True, he was recognisable, but he had changed so much in these last years. Notably, Geto’s face had slimmed, emphasising the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the hollowness of his cheeks. He was less of a boy now, and if you hadn’t known him beforehand, he would’ve intimidated you. His hair was longer too, the strands framing his face reached the peak of his nose whilst the rest touched his lower back. Geto’s eyes were exactly how you remembered them though; deep and pensive. He had the kind of resting expression which made you second guess yourself when you suggested something. It had always seemed that with every casual, self-deprecating joke, Geto was analysing it, carefully peeling the fragile layers of the satirical overtones to expose your innermost vulnerabilities. To many, it was unnerving. Any casual comment intended to pull a negligent laugh from others received a dark, analytical look from Geto. That’s how it had always been, and it’s why you had taken a liking to him. Often, you couldn’t find the confidence to admit to distress or insecurity, but Geto always knew. He knew from the way you would chastise yourself for the smallest mistakes, and the fact you’d stop talking when you were overwhelmed. You didn’t have to say anything, and that was a relief to you. Geto knew. You wondered if he knew how you were feeling now- you sure didn’t.

“Are you ok?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was always difficult to read but he just looked at you. He wasn’t glaring, he wasn’t staring, he was just… looking. You watched him expectantly. “Geto?” you pressed. Geto didn’t respond, at least verbally. He just looked moderately pained, as he once did when he’d linger in the morgue with Shoko. His eyes flickered from you to the ground, almost… shyly? Was he shy?

“I was waiting for you.” Geto muttered, “You never came.”

Oh. Yeah.

Nevermind.

The honeymoon of your reunion ended with the clanging of a guillotine over cupid’s head. Inside of you, a small, childish hope had foolishly sprouted, praying that he’d be understanding. You cringed as you felt it shrivel up in the deepest depth of your gut, the blossoms blackening and ripping as it rotted within you.

“You act like your defection didn’t permanently scar the jujutsu society.” Geto raised his eyebrows, “Yes, it did.” you pressed before he could protest, “I couldn’t leave, even if I had wanted to. Yaga and Gojo wouldn’t let me out of their sight.”

And just like that, you were arguing.

“Did you even try?” he scoffed.

You groaned, “Believe it or not, Geto, becoming the housewife of a wanted criminal isn’t quite on my agenda. In fact, because of you I have more work to do than ever. We all do.”

“Just because everyone else is willing to suffer a poor job doesn’t mean you have to in order to save them.” Geto narrowed his eyes.

“Sure, but some don’t have a choice.” you challenged, “Remember Gojo?”

Geto scoffed, “Remember Satoru? Of course I do.” It was a low blow, you realised, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel guilty. “Who do you think I am?” he asked, voice low and hurt.

You shifted, awkwardly, “You left him to suffer.”

“He’s suffering?” Geto’s tone dulled.

You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, “You thought he wouldn’t?” a pause. “Well,” you added, quietly, “I don’t know if he’s realised it yet but… yeah, he is.”

“Oh.” Geto’s lips thinned, offence flashing in his narrowed gaze, “Why would you tell me that?” he muttered, flinching backwards as if your words had punctured him like a misfired bullet.

“You wanted to know why I didn’t join you. That’s why.” You looked away, failing to grasp for words that would just fix things between you, “Well, that amongst other reasons…” You didn’t want to explain your own turmoil and struggles. Love didn’t equate to trust. You loved his touch and who he was, but you couldn’t trust the man in front of you to hear you and react fairly. It was all too predictable, and you feared that if you told him, your instincts would be proven. Sure, he’d always been cunning and sly, but also… manipulative. The word struggled to materialise in your brain, your subconscious trying to sugarcoat it as ‘intelligence’ and ‘caring’ in its reluctance to face his change.

His upset gaze softened, “Other reasons?”

You shook your head, “It’s not important right now.”

“I’d beg to differ.” Geto argued, “I have a right to know.” He was pushing you, testing you, even. You weren’t in the right headspace for this, you were so tired… so, so tired…

“You have no such right,” you scoffed, “but I apologise that you weren’t prepared for the consequences of your own actions.” A tense moment passed and you sighed, “If it helps, I wasn’t either.”

It was a poor attempt at softening the blow of your unfiltered words, but it wasn’t untrue. Betrayal pinched and poked at the supple flesh of your heart. You needed to realise it but… it wasn’t that easy. “No,” Geto stepped towards you, “It doesn’t.”

“Pity.” you rolled your eyes.

The dry remark left your lips before you could stop yourself. Geto froze. The silence that followed weighed on your shoulders, guilt creeping up on you.

“I’m sorry.” you murmured, “I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.”

The crawling discomfort at your own insincerity grasped your shoulders with heavy talons, the needle-sharp fingertips grazing your gentle skin, teasing your raw skin as blood threatened to bead in their wake and flow.

“It’s fine.” Geto said, stiffly.

You groaned internally, it all felt so childish. For a fleeting moment, you questioned the boy you once knew. Was Geto the boy who’d read with you on those humid summer nights, or was he the unsettling murderer in front of you?

“I wasn’t expecting you to keep to your promise.” he added, bluntly.

“I mean, I was 17,” you agreed carefully, “I had no idea what the future would hold. Neither did you.”

It was a lifeline, the final one you could spare. You could only beg that Geto would catch it with splayed hands.

Geto looked at you with scrutiny, “That’s true.”

It was enough. You could work with this.

You watched him warily, nodding slowly.

“Was it worth it?” Geto asked, seemingly more neutral.

Was it worth it?

“I don’t know.” You replied, honestly, “Things could be better.”

Geto stepped forward, putting his hand on your shoulder, “Then come with me. If things are worse, go back and I’ll take the blame.”

All too forward, predictable and exactly what you feared.

“…if you want to,” he added a second too late.

With narrowed eyes, you ignored him, instead choosing to glance around the clearing, noting the same emptiness as before. Geto didn’t move, his hair starting the curl as rain drenched the two of you. His hand on your shoulder started to feel heavy as he squeezed you gently, letting the presence of his reluctant affection be known, despite his hard stare. What could you do? You were still as unsure as you were 6 years ago about joining him.

“Where are you staying?” you asked, the action of your head cocking allowing cold droplets to trickle down the side of your neck. You regretted it instantly. Perhaps a change of environment would help things. Perhaps it’d help you understand.

“Not far from here.” Geto responded monotonously.

“I’d like to come over.” you tried, “Not for long.”

He nodded to himself, “Ok.”

Then he spared you a small smile and your heart leaped with the first and only genuine affection he’d shown you since you’d reunited.

That was him. That was Geto, right there. It wasn’t much, but you revelled in what you had.

You inwardly sighed, tiredly.

Maybe, just maybe, the two of you would get there in the end.

As you journeyed to his home, which really was in the middle of nowhere, you sat side by side in what was mostly silence. The two of you talked too, dropping shallow comments about your lives and complaints about the overly-touchy couple on the other side of the carriage as you took the train a few stops further out. More and more, Geto seemed like himself, even if the progress was minuscule. It was something. If anything, hope thumped in your chest- naive hope albeit, but hope nonetheless. After a while, you finally approached his home. It looked small, yet lived-in. Outside, rows of vegetation orbited the building, as well as trees bearing fruit in various stages of ripeness.

“The girls are out, I’m afraid.” Geto called behind his shoulder as he unlocked the door, holding it open for you.

“Girls?” you inquired as you walked in, “Daughters or hostages?”

Geto laughed quietly, “Daughters.”

“You got a chick pregnant?” your response was paired with the twitch of your lip and the stutter in your step. You knew it was hypocritical, the sinking disappointment, you chastised yourself for feeling it… however...

The door clicked behind him and you heard his footsteps stilled behind you, “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” you replied, shortly.

“C’mon.”

You turned to look at him, blankly.

“Of course not.” Geto rolled his eyes.

You blinked, “Oh.”

“They’re adopted.” The way Geto said your name afterwards was in disbelief, “I told you I waited, didn’t I?”

“You may have mentioned it,” you sniffed, “yes.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, “You’re unbelievable,” he walked past you, brushing your shoulder as he did so, “you’re seriously more butthurt by that than the fact I murder people?”

“Ok?” you felt your cheeks burn, “And what if I am? I have priorities, Geto.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes boring into yours, “So, your priorities are… what, exactly?

“Um…” You scratched the back of your neck, “Nothin’” you waved your hand dismissively with a strained grin. “None of your business, really.” you rambled, searching desperately for some sort of a reaction, “You could use it against me, y’know? It’d be very dangerous if I told you.”

Geto looked at you strangely, “…Right.”

He was supposed to smile… or laugh… or do something at the very least, not just… walk past you…

You wanted to press rewind and try this all again.

You wanted to go home.

After a lost moment, you followed him helplessly. It was a simple home. There was more evidence of life there than there was at your home, you knew that for sure. Drawings that were clearly drawn by an adolescent hand were woven throughout the decorations, depicting a family of three. It was clear that they were close. You felt left out. It seemed you had missed out on so much. Maybe Geto was right, maybe this was a better life. It still didn’t remove your responsibility in the shaman world, but Gojo’s students were the strongest they’d seen in years, right? Maybe you were allowed this. Maybe you were allowed to welcome your lover as they walked through the door in the evening, embracing them softly. Maybe you could have this life. It seemed completely out-of-touch, you couldn’t just leave. You knew that. However… something was stopping you.

Geto led you to his kitchen, pouring you a glass of water.

“Oh?” you took the glass from him with a small smile.

Geto pushed it into your hands, “Don’t tell me you’ve miraculously stopped being so dehydrated since we last talked.”

He had a point, to be fair.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You took a sip of the cool water, “I don’t think I’ve had pure water for around 48 hours…” you murmured absentmindedly, the rim of the glass pressed against your lower lip as you spoke, your breath fogging up the glass.

Geto grimaced, “Shouldn’t you be taking care of yourself? You’re not a teenager anymore.” he looked at you, clearly unimpressed, “I just hope your diet is faring better.”

“You’d think, right?” you watched his lips thin.

Geto muttered your name under his breath, “Seriously?”

“Been too busy.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

You hummed pensively, “Good question.”

The way Geto spoke your name this time was dull, his eyebrows furrowed. You took a sip of water.

“Fine, I’ll cook you something now,” he turned his back on you, “do you still like spicy food?”

You watched as he gathered ingredients and boiled a pot of water. It was a shy wash of comfort, being back in his presence like this. Lord knows how long it had been since someone last took care of you. The rising smell of fresh vegetables seemed almost foreign to you at this point. Whilst the noodles were cooking, Geto disappeared momentarily as he changed into a baggy t-shirt and trousers. There he was, he was more like the man you remembered. Less tired, perhaps, though maybe you had taken on that burden in exchange. You didn’t speak as you idly sipped on the water, feeling like a small child as he cooked the first proper meal that you would eat in ages. He hummed softly as he mixed the broth, it was something you hadn’t seen him do before. His voice was low, almost inaudible, as he repeated the melody of a song you knew he loved…

What was it…?

Geto’s humming turned to soft singing as he stirred the broth.

…Isn’t it good?

Norwegian wood…

Oh, now you remembered it.

…She asked me to stay,

And she asked me to sit anywhere…

You hadn’t heard that song for years, not since he left. Geto used to play music as he cooked, ambling around the kitchen as he hummed to himself. You remembered how Gojo used to tease him about his ‘old man’ music. You did too. Affectionately, of course. It seemed so long ago, how you’d all linger in the doorway, despite his questionable music taste, hoping to grab a bite of whatever he was cooking. You forgot how good of a cook he was, you were looking forward to your meal.

As he cooked, the songs changed, ranging from ones you remembered to what you guessed were newer additions. When Geto began dishing up the food, he gestured for you to sit in the living room. And so you did, settling onto a sofa as you eagerly anticipated your meal. After a moment, he sat down opposite you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you with a gentle tap.

You felt the warmth of the steam below your chin as you picked the bowl up.

“None for yourself?” you asked before experimentally sipping the broth.

It was as good as you remembered, you gladly noted.

Geto shook his head, “I already ate.”

“Ah.” you took a mouthful of noodles, “Makes sense.”

You ate in what was mostly stiff silence, interrupted by a few passing comments about the food or your lives. Out of the corner or your eye, you noticed Geto watching you, head resting on his hand. His lips were tugged into a pensive frown, his gaze gentle yet lost, as if a whirlwind of thoughts happened to be storming in his mind. Had you been less tired, maybe you’d be doing the same. Right now, however, you were enjoying some warm, hearty home cooking. Overthinking could wait, you were hungry.

“What will you do when you’re done here?” Geto asked suddenly, voice raised.

You swallowed your mouthful, studying him carefully, “Huh?”

“You would be less overworked if you reported me, so will you?”

What kind of question was that?

“I’m not gonna do that,” you swirled the noodles through the broth absentmindedly, “Though I do have a question…”

Geto raised an eyebrow.

“Assuming I don’t report you, I’ll be neutral,” slowly, you sat back, watching him, “Taking that neutrality assumes the side of the oppressor, then who do I side with?”

He sighed, “Me. Probably. That’s what you think, right?”

“Is it?,” your fingers drummed against the armrest, noting his tone like a pinch of salt mixed into a pot of honey, “Does that make Gojo the oppressed?”

“Going by that logic, yes,” he replied, too easily.

You took another mouthful, suddenly grateful for the distraction of eating, “And I?”

“Shooting yourself in the foot,” Geto said after a pause, “to you.”

“To me?” you echoed quietly, “I guess.”

“Still going to protect me?” Geto’s lip twitched as he watched you, ever-so carefully.

“I guess.” you repeated. The last thing you needed from him was a rivalry, you were initially hoping for a truce of some sort but the void darkness in his eyes drained the last hope you had. “I’m not here for justice or to solve anything, I’m here for money, mostly.”

Geto snorted shortly, “No different to the rest, then.”

“I guess not.” you chose to ignore the sting behind his words.

The two of you settled into waves of rumbling quiet as you finished your food. Geto seemed somewhat more distracted as he began to hum again, almost inaudible to you this time. You missed this- him, even. Despite the obvious, he held some sort of familiarity to you that not many did- now that you savoured. The two of you came together as you tried to fit together again, pushing and pulling at each other like oil and water.

“Y’know,” you placed the bowl down, “you’re acting all strange.”

Geto grinned, thinly, “Am I?”

“You are,” you couldn’t help but match his expression, “you know it too.”

His smile widened like the Cheshire cat, “Do I?”

“You do.”

A second of silence lugged by like a three ton truck.

“I missed you, Geto.”

The rain knocked against the windows gently, beading like crystals in front of the puffs of smoky black clouds consuming the sky. The lack of sunlight meant the room became darker too, the dim light doing little to relieve the gloominess of the bad weather. Outside, a wind chime rattled with the gust of the temperamental wind. Inside, the soft tapping of Geto’s fingers against the wooden table paused, leaving the ticking of the clock to slice through the ambient howling and tapping of the weather against the walls. Inside of you, however, your heart and brain played a tentative game of tug of war. You just did something big.

Like, really fucking big.

Well… not really, but nobody had told that to Geto, evidently, suggested by the way he gasped at you almost comically, eyebrows arched.

“I also like you, so if you wouldn’t mind fishing out the astronomical log up your ass, I’d like to have a conversation with you about it.”

Geto coughed, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

You looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“You didn’t even try to reach out to me.” he started, bluntly. “You didn’t try to find me. None of you did.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling very unprepared.

Geto continued, “I’m not even upset that you didn’t come with me, you just didn’t tell me.” you nodded, mind racing.

“I couldn’t.” you replied.

“And that’s the worst bit,” His lip twitched as he looked away, “I can’t even be mad at you for it. You were just protecting yourself-”

“And you.”

Geto blinked.

“I was being tracked.”

Geto’s lips parted slightly.

“Same reason Gojo and Shoko didn’t come to you,” you told him, “Gojo knows where you are, he has done since the day he found out you left.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Geto.”

“I mean,” Geto coughed, “It’s fine I guess, but-”

“Not for that,” you rushed, gaining an unimpressed look from the man opposite you, “I’m sorry that things happened this way. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you when you were spiralling. I’m sorry that there was nobody there for you when you left.” you took a deep breath, “I wasn’t the person you needed me to be, though I’d like to be. If you’ll let me.”

Geto studied you, pensively, “Does that mean you’re staying?”

You winced, “I’m not leaving you again.” you offered. You weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself that you were leaving home. Not yet, anyway. “I’m not doing any of the murdering though, you can do that.” you grimaced.

After a pause, Geto laughed.

“Ok.” His gaze was warmer than it had been, more open, “I’d love that.”

“Murder? Yeah I figured.” you muttered despite yourself.

Geto simply laughed harder. He really was a sight for sore eyes. The way he smiled, the way he looked away when he smiled, the way his hair fell over his face when he shook too much… God, you-

“I missed you too.”

Your mind went black.

Oh, you had told him, hadn’t you? And he felt the same way. Surely there was a logical conclusion to this.

You stood and moved to sit next to him. Then you leaned towards him, noticing the way he flushed at the proximity.

“Can I?” your hands hovered in front of you as you moved to touch him.

He nodded.

Your hands tentatively reached to cradle the sides of his face, thumbs gently rubbing circles into the curve of his jaw. Geto’s hands moved to cover yours as he watched you, wide eyed.

“Can we? I’ve wanted this for so long… Just- trust me, ok?” you whispered, stumbling over your words, your voice low. He nodded faintly before his eyes flashed with indescribable emotion.

“Ok.” Geto sighed, almost inaudibly to you.

You smiled, “Ok.”

As you withdrew your touch, your fingertips lingered on his skin, grazing the surface of his soft, olive cheeks. He tilted his head as you moved, chasing your warm palms.

“Can I kiss you… Suguru?”

You saw him stiffen as his name rolled off your tongue. Geto blinked at you before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a grin. In place of a verbal response, he mimicked your earlier actions, taking your head into his palms. His touch was gentle, yet firm as he guided your face towards his. The feeling of Geto’s warm breath on your smiling lips made you buzz with anticipation, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you itched towards the sweet nectar of his mouth. He met you in the middle, fingers threading through your hair as he ever-so gently scratched your scalp with his blunt nails. You sighed, content, eyelashes fluttered close against your hot cheeks. It was a nostalgic kiss, a loving one, not the same heated one you shared so long ago. As your lips moved against one another’s, you were fixated on the lingering heat of his body, craving it like an addict for the mere seconds the two of you parted for air.

As soon as Geto urged your lips open with the swipe of his tongue, you knew you weren’t going back.

The desperately intimate movements of your tongues became hypnotic: rubbing, prodding, tangling. Your hands had slipped round his neck, your chest pressed against his torso. When you parted, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, lips pressed against the flushed skin as you panted. Above you, Geto gently stroked your hair, playing with the soft strands as you both gave yourselves time. You weren’t teenagers anymore, you couldn’t jump into something so intense without the knowledge that there was definitely an unwavering mutual understanding between the two of you. Slowly, you pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes. The hand in your hair moved to brush the stray hairs away from your face, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

“Are you ok?” Geto murmured, leaning into you so that his lips hovered millimetres away from your cheek. The proximity, whilst lustful on the surface, carried more depth than you could comprehend. The weight of his hands, his lips, his voice, his words, were like bricks in your pockets, pulling you impossibly deeper into the encompassing aura of - just him. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was in particular that pulled you to him, realistically you knew it was a mixture of the history you shared and the absence you’d endured, but it was overwhelming and not enough all at once. Maybe it’d be a while until the trust you’d once shared would be recovered. Maybe it never would be. The consequences of your assumptions and his isolation could haunt you together. His radicalisation, your indecisiveness… maybe you were a lost cause, but the way hummed so soothingly as you nodded your affirmation doused your doubts immediately. He kissed you again, harsher this time, his grip on you tighter as he held you with desperation. You knew then, if you left now, you were never to be forgiven. But if you stayed... If you stayed, he’d never let you go.

Each touch rolled into another like the crashing of waves. Your shirt had been discarded by the fireplace a while ago, leaving Geto to revise the curves and contours of your torso with his left hand, fingers dipping into the hollows of your ribs and splaying over the small of your back. The whole time, he watched you, eyebrows pinched and mouth frowning in thought as he traced the tempestuous dark circles below your eyes with his right thumb. You were patient, meeting his distracted gaze as you idly played with his hair. This wasn’t the rushed goodbye you’d shared 6 years ago, this was a coronation of his love. Minutes passed and you were laid on the sofa, bare to his dark eyes. You had taken it upon yourself to step out of your underwear and to unclasp your bra. It was endearing, the way Geto obediently watched, eyes flicking between your breasts and cunt as you dropped the garments to the side. Amused, you cocked your head to the side, “Are you ok?”

Geto blinked at you, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “Yes,” he mumbled, looking to the side embarrassedly as he pulled his shirt over his head, “how did you want to do this?”

You hummed in thought. To be honest, you weren’t really that bothered, but it touched you that he asked. Though, you were aching and tired, so.. “As we are,” you replied, stifling a yawn, “please.”

He smiled at your apparent tiredness and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll go slow but tell me if it’s too much, ok?”

You nodded.

“Good girl.”

Good girl?

Good. Girl.

You were fucking reeling.

After Geto wrestled his trousers and boxers off, he slid his hand between your thighs and pushed them apart, carefully. He leaned over you, using his own thighs to keep yours open as he kissed you again, messily, lazily. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moved his knee forward until it grazed your most sensitive parts. As Geto slipped his tongue into your mouth, you gasped at the sudden plethora of sensations- all of them far too much, yet far too good. You took your time as you grinded against his knee, moaning and muttering curses against his swollen lips. A few years ago, maybe you would’ve been embarrassed by the amount of time it took for you to feel ready to take him, but you didn’t want to rush this. It was as precious as the climax itself, and the pleasure of basking in his warmth and affection made you giddy and hot. You cracked an eye open as you parted for air to check on Geto, your hips not stopping their lethargic, yet desperate rocking against his knee. What you found wasn’t boredom or impatience, rather intense affection and peace in the stare of your lover. It was oddly sweet compared to the obscene way his knee glistened with your slick. Content, you closed your eyes again, letting Geto’s gentle lips on your chest and neck lull you into an orgasm that had your toes curling and back arching. He coaxed you down with soft encouragement and kisses as he moved his knee from your core.

You grinned as you looked at his awed expression, “Come on.” you teased. Geto rolled his eyes before adjusting your positions.

After a moment he settled, lowering himself to be closer to you. “I love you,” he whispered, peppering kisses over your face, “so, so much.”

A smile spread across your face before you could stop it, “I bet you say that to all of your victims.” you teased.

Geto groaned, “God, shut up.”

You laughed to yourself, breath catching as you felt him press against your entrance. The way he looked at you felt like lying in sunlight, and you forgot how tired and irritable you had been. This was all you had ever needed. Him- that was all.

It had been a while since you last slept with anyone, so the intrusion initially stung. However, a few kisses and gentle whispers later, he had eased himself in completely, and you were burning with anticipation. Geto looked at you carefully, visibly holding himself back.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you adjusted yourself slightly, “m’fine.”

He grinned, kissing the column of your neck before he started moving, hands bracing you by your hips. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and chest, causing his hair to stick to his face. You knew you were the same too, unable to ignore the way yours was sticking to your neck. Lazily, you pulled him further down onto you, wrapping your legs around his hips like a boa constrictor, causing him to penetrate you even deeper. The silence of the room was disrupted by the rhythmic groans and gasps the two of you released every time he rocked into you. You were so full, it felt like your nerves were on fire as he pushed against that spot inside of you that made you see heaven.

“Shit-” you whimpered as he sped up, biting into his shoulder as you gasped and moaned against the reddened skin.

Geto wasn’t faring much better as he uttered curses against your cheek, mixed within prayers and declarations of your beauty and significance.

“You’re so,” Thrust. “Fucking,” Thrust. “Pretty,” Thrust. “Like this-”

You could feel the hot puffs of air against your ear as he helplessly whined, his pace quickening despite himself.

“I’ve been,” Thrust. “Thinking about,” Thrust. “Doing this,” Thrust. “Since,” Thrust. “Last time-”

You couldn’t help it, the way his words drove you towards your peak like a wildfire.

“Please, Suguru,” you moaned, rocking against him as his cock hammered into you, “I’m so..”

“Close?” Geto grunted, “You’re close?”

“Fuck- yes!”

He swore under his breath.

Your back arched, chest pressing against his as his calloused fingers found your throbbing, ever-so sensitive clit.

You were so close, so, so, so close…

“Cum for me.”

With a scream, your orgasm washed over you, causing you to tremble with the intensity. Geto’s pace didn’t falter as you rode out the after effects. Well, not until he followed you closely after. Hips stuttering, you whined as you felt his cum drip fill you. He moaned loudly, eyebrows furrowed and abs flexed. You decided that it was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

For a while, you panted against each other, Geto had collapsed on top of you and was now curled into you, head tucked beneath your chin. Absentmindedly, you stroked his air, sighing softly as he kissed your neck tenderly.

“Did I hurt you?” you felt his voice vibrate through where you were touching. Geto’s voice was low and rough- exhausted probably.

“Nah,” you replied easily, “tired though.”

He yawned, “Stay here then.” he muttered, sounding half asleep.

You laughed sardonically, “Is this part of your elite plan to stop me going back?”

Geto sat up, looking at you strangely, “You’re still thinking of going back?” He sounded more judgemental than hurt.

“Well,” you snorted, “probably not now.”

“Fucking hell,” Geto flopped down next to you, cuddling you again, “you scared me.”

You kissed the crown of his head apologetically, “Sorry, Suguru.”

The two of you laid on the sofa together in silence, communicating purely through loving touches and glances. Outside, you heard the rain become heavier on the windows, drowning out the buzz of the kitchen.

“I love you too,” you blurted, suddenly reminded of his abrupt confession, “by the way.”

Geto huffed, “I figured.”

“I’m staying here.” you added. A confirmation.

You felt him press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

“I figured that one too.”

You sighed, “I’ll need to go home and grab my stuff… and quit my job…” Geto snickered on top of you, “what a bore…”

“How long will that take?” he asked, voice rough.

“Like,” you wrinkled your nose, “three days, maybe.”

Geto groaned, “‘S long time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed irritably, “what a drag.”

He snorted, “I miss you already.”

“Tease.”

[mostlyghostlyy]

Glad everyone agrees dale would be so pathetic. I need to sit in his lap and grind into him for several hours he would be writhing constantly and digging his nails into your skin so hard. Unable to even form a thought just whining and gasping for air with tears and drool rolling down his pretty face

Here's a short one before I get back to work!

I personally like the idea of grinding on him clothed. Like the sensation is there, but he can't get the satisfaction of actually being inside you. I think it would drive him crazy. The more layers, the better as he whines and squirms under you. He'd cry and cry and beg and beg for clothes to be removed, but at the same time, he would enjoy the tease.

Just imagine how pretty he would look. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears escaping and leaving tracks down his face. His mouth torn between gasps of air and moans. A symphony of “pretty pleases” and religious begging for you to be good to him. He's so sensitive to any touch you allow him. He can't help but jolt into you. His hips rolling to try and meet yours, keening whenever it doesn't feel the way he wants it to. Nearly wailing whenever his climax is fucked by a missed sensation.

You're rocking against him, shifting your hips across his clothed length. His head is buried in your chest, movement of your hips pulling strings of nonsense from his lips. Dote on him. tell him he's handsome, and he's such a pretty Rockstar, and you're so so so lucky that he's yours. I promise he's drooling and shaking. Say these things in a hushed voice, mouth close to his ear as you whisper flatteries of grandeur, nip at the lobe of his ear and now he's grabbing wickedly hard at your skin.

White-knuckle grip digging into the soft flesh of your hips. Attempting to pull them to-and-fro to satiate the mounting desire. Coo and tell him you'll take care of him. He has no choice but to comply, he's so obedient for you. Fingers still digging white hot Crescents into the skin, but he's content to relinquish control.

He's more than happy to sit for hours with you straddling him. Head lolling back in overstimulated ecstacy every time your hips roll into his. Various stages of dried cum and rough textured pants chafing on his now aching cock, he hisses at every sensation. Winces turn to shrill pleas to continue.

[graysdarling]

〡𝓚. azer ˎˊ˗ late nights.

- summery: you noticed how kitt, the now king, kept on tiring himself. hell, he was practically killing himself. but what could you do? you were just the common maid that somehow was close to the azer brothers.

- warnings: kitt on the verge of going insane, sane kitt, use of y/n, office work, uhh this is kitt not kai sorry not sorry, overworking, humming a song, fluff, head in lap.

- words: 1043

reblogs and comments are appreciated ⭑.ᐟ

you ran a hand down your stressed face. you knew you shouldn’t be worried. it was kitt azer, after all. he was the future king; you had nothing to be worried about.

but that was what he wanted you to think, didn’t he? that he was perfectly fine even though he practically lived in his office now. that he was perfectly fine even though you found out that he was throwing his food out of his window and not eating.

that he was perfectly fine even though she was gone. you wouldn’t lie, you were jealous of paedyn gray before. you were just a servant, she was the silver savior—of course, kitt would love her. but then the two of you got quite close before she left, killing the king along with her.

that was when kitt’s downfall started.

and so, here you were, outside his office room late at night, overthinking if you should open the door or not. it was usual for the king to stay up this late doing work, sadly. you would be lying if you said you weren’t worried about him.

and so was everyone else, the kingdom, the other maids, gail, jax, you; and so, that is what led you to bring up your hand and knock at the wooden door.

there was silence after that, as if kitt was pausing, realizing that someone was up with him. “come in,” he finally announced. you swallowed the lump forming in your throat as you opened the door. in the room revealed kitt, the future king, looking like a mess.

his usual messy dark blond hair was even messier, now due to exhaustion, and his green eyes were darker now with eye bags. surrounding him were piles of paper on his desk and you almost winced at the scene.

his eyes blinked for a few moments before widening. “ah—y/n. what are you doing up this late?” he asked. he tried to make his voice sound less exhausted than it already was, but failed. you could easily see that.

you took a breath. “forgive me for going out of line, my king,” you began, “but, kitt, you look exhausted.” you were probably going over the line, you knew that, but he was killing himself. plus, you supposed the two of you were close enough to go on a first-name basis.

the blond’s eyes widened at your words, before giving you a small smile. “thank you for your concern, y/n, but i’m alright.”

no, he wasn’t. he wasn’t alright. but he was too stubborn to say it.

“kitt. please, don’t keep up the act in front of me,” you muttered. he paused at that, hesitated. he looked at you with those tired green eyes of him that were on the verge of having no light in them. you didn’t want to know what would happen when all that light was gone.

you slowly stepped towards him. “just take a small nap, okay? then you could go back to doing your work.”

“y/n—”

“kitt.”

you saw him swallow and look down. you slowly crossed his desk, standing next to him. “please. just a small nap, then i’ll wake you up,” you said softly. he looked up at you and you knew that he didn’t want to seem weak. but he wasn’t weak in your eyes. not at all. “you aren’t weak for taking a nap, kitt. i’ll wake you up in a bit if you do.”

“you promise?” he said softly and you swore you could’ve seen your kitt. “i promise,” you said. he nodded and stood up from his desk which was covered in papers and files. he immediately put his hands down on his desk and blinked rapidly, as if he was getting faint.

he probably was from his exhaustion and lack of fluids.

you put your hand on his back and he looked at you, blinking. you gave him a small smile as he did. he stood up straight and the two of you walked out of the office and back to his room, where he should be sleeping but he hasn’t lately. the walk was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. it was a much-needed quietness for kitt, you could easily tell.

your suspicions were proved true whenever you went into the room and saw his bed cleaned. it was like he hadn’t been to bed ever since the king died—which was probably true.

almost immediately, you walked kitt over to his bed, making him sit on it. “i’m going to go get you some water while you get settled, okay?” you told him stubbornly, not letting him stop you. well, that was before he grabbed your wrist and stopped you before you were out of reach.

“wait… could you—stay? at least until i sleep,” he said, making your head snap back towards him, “i’ve just been—having nightmares.” your gaze turned soft at his words and you nodded, even though he couldn’t see because his head was down as if he couldn’t find it in himself to see your pity.

taking a breath, you stepped towards the bed and sat down next to the king of ilya. “all right.” he looked at you but he didn’t look away for a few moments. you couldn’t lie, it made you nervous and have butterflies for some reason.

awkwardly, you moved to the pillows, sitting in front of them while kitt laid on the other ones. you fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, not knowing what to do, until you felt kitt move to your side—more like putting his head in your lap.

“sorry,” he muttered, though his face seemed like he wasn’t sorry after all, even though his eyes were closed. you couldn’t help but to smile. slowly, you put your hands down in his hair. they were soft and had some tangles so you gently got rid of them, running your hands through his hair.

nightmares. you remembered as a kid, one of your family members used to sing a song to you before you went to bed every night whenever you were scared. almost unconsciously, you started humming that same song that comforted you.

you swore you heard a hum of satisfaction come from him.

[littlespaceofmine]

⚡︎₊˚⊹Echoes of a Storm, Reverberations of Together ⊹˚₊⚡︎

You stay, like you've stayed before and like you always do and you notice. Changes, small ones that turn to deep ugly things that take root and break someone's strength, motivation and self esteem, bit by bit. You've seen it before and seeing it again, happening to one of the closest people to you when he lost his powers. You don't know how to go about it but you know one thing. Whatever happens you'll stay, your doors will always be open for him.

Warnings: low self esteem, imposter syndrome and talk of inadequacy.

It’s been weeks since Jay lost his powers, and the absence feels like an open wound he can’t quite heal. For as long as he can remember, lightning wasn’t just a tool; it became a part of him—a constant, buzzing energy beneath his skin, the spark that defined him. Now, without it, the silence in his veins is suffocating, like he’s lost a part of his soul. His worth?

He pretends it’s fine. Cracks jokes, laughs louder than before, and tries to play it off with exaggerated gestures and complaints that don’t seem too serious. But you’ve known Jay long enough to see through the act. The way his smile is too wide, the restless energy replaced with a deep, confused frustration, and how his eyebrows constantly shift between raised and furrowed. Even if he hates it, he trains twice as hard now, grumbling the whole way. It’s as if he’s desperately trying to compensate for the power he no longer wields. When he thinks no one’s watching, you catch him staring at his hands like they’ve betrayed him.

One night, unable to sleep, you find him on the roof of the monastery. The night is unusually quiet, except for the distant rumble of thunder from a storm brewing on the horizon. Jay sits there, knees drawn up, staring at the sky. He’s always loved the sky and its celestial bodies, but tonight it feels like more than mere admiration. The flashing clouds reflect in his eyes, a faint flicker of longing that makes your heart ache. His hand is outstretched, fingers twitching as if trying to summon the lightning—just one spark—but nothing happens. His hand falls limp to his side, clenching in frustration.

You hesitate, your hand reaching out only to withdraw. Now is not the time for insecurity, not when he’s so hurt. You force yourself to speak, "Jay," but he doesn’t turn.

Panic rises. Maybe he needs alone time. Maybe you need to learn social cues better. But you notice his face turned away, his shoulders and posture relaxed, as if he’s afraid to face you, afraid of what you’ll see in his eyes.

Throwing your reservations aside, you sit down next to him, the space between you thick with tension. For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The storm rumbles closer, but all you can hear is the quiet sound of his uneven breaths.

“I thought I was getting better,” Jay finally says, his voice low and brittle. “That I was moving on. But every time I see a storm... it’s like a reminder of what I used to be. What I’m not anymore.” He laughs, but there’s no joy in it, only bitterness. “I can’t even call down a single bolt. What kind of Master of Lightning can’t control lightning?”

Your chest tightens at his words. Jay’s always hidden behind humor, the guy who makes everyone laugh when things get tough, but this? This is different. He’s stripped bare, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen him.

You reach out, hesitating for a moment before your hand gently finds his. “You’re not defined by your powers, Jay. You never were.”

He lets out a short, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? But I’m useless like this, aren't I? I’m supposed to protect people, but without my powers, I... I can’t even protect myself.” His voice cracks, and he finally looks at you, his blue eyes stormier than the skies above. “I was never the strongest out of the team, but now this really takes the cake. What am I good for? How am I supposed to protect you?”

The raw vulnerability in his gaze nearly breaks you. You’ve seen Jay at his bravest, his brightest, and his most nervous. But now, seeing him at his lowest, you realize the weight he’s been carrying—and how alone he’s felt in it.

“You’re not useless,” you say firmly, gripping his hand tighter. “Your powers... yeah, they were amazing. But they don’t make you who you are. You’re Jay. The guy who always puts everyone else first. The guy who never gives up, even while saying you'll do so. You’re still the bravest person I know, because you face your fears and fight them. Fear was never your limit, and that’s incredible.”

His shoulders shake slightly, and he swallows hard, blinking rapidly as if trying to hold back tears. “I just... My life felt like it started with them, and now it feels like it ended with them too. I don’t know how to be me without them. Everything feels... different.”

“I know.” You scoot closer, resting your forehead gently against his. “But different doesn’t mean worse. You’ve always been more than your powers, Jay. And even without them, you’re still you. You still have us. And I still have you.”

For a moment, he’s silent, and you wonder if your words have reached him. Then, slowly, he lets out a shuddering breath, his hand squeezing yours in return. He leans into the contact, closing his eyes as if trying to hold onto this moment, to the steady presence of you by his side.

“I’m scared,” he admits quietly, and it’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever heard him. “I’m scared I’ll never get it back. That I’ll never be the same.”

“You don’t have to be the same,” you whisper, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. “You just have to be you. And that’s more than enough.”

He lets out a shaky laugh, one that’s half a sob, and finally, finally, he looks at you with something softer in his eyes. “How do you do that? Make me believe things will be okay, even when everything’s falling apart?”

“I guess you could say I’ve got a spark,” you tease gently, and a real laugh escapes him this time, full of warmth and relief. You find yourself exhaling in relief and laughing with him.

“Also, I may have laughed at it now because it was so unexpected, but never do that again. That was terrible,” he says, fully serious.

“Hey, you just don’t know how to appreciate the true art that is my humor. That’s a you problem, sorry,” you reply halfheartedly, watching him with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head, jokingly exasperated.

The storm rumbles closer, but as you sit there with him, fingers intertwined, you realize that the real storm has already passed, and you’re more victorious than ever.

Wordcount: 1,336 words

A/N: The header has flower symbolism if you want to search that up yourself because I'm way too obsessed with flower meanings! (flowers' names are Forget-me Not, Blue Daisy, Blue Iris). Was hoping to make it more midnight blue but oh well blame it on the flowers.

[fantasybooklover22]

"It's like a tangible tether between us, this consuming connection. I will her to meet my eyes, and when they do --

Sparks. Electricity.

Everything beautiful, everything bold, everything breathtaking-- that is what I feel in her gaze.

That, and terrified. Terrified of what she is doing to me. She is a vision, a nightmare, a dream.

A grim reaper clad in black, come to steal my soul and my heart.

I've never seen something so beautiful, so bold, so blatantly wrong for me.

She is a devil. She is a deity.

She is a man's downfall in human form. She is my downfall."

Powerless by Lauren Roberts

Bottom of page 406 to the middle of page 407.

[angstywaifu]

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist.

Welcome to my first ever Kinktober. Over the course of the month of October I will be posting some spicy fics of our favourite fantasy boys from either requests or from ideas of my own. Everything posted below will be 18+, and will be tagged with appropriate trigger warnings. If anyone would like to be tagged in the below fics please let me know. Happy to do a taglist for those who want it. Thank you to all who submitted requests.

Kai Azer

Mirror Sex

Garrick Tavis

"Feel this? It's just for you.” & "My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

Xaden Riorson

"Don't act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”

Brennan Sorrengail

"Don't act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” & "I told you, you would eventually start begging.”

"Your eyes are already saying yes, now I just need your mouth to tell me the same.” (enemies to lovers vibe)

Bodhi Durran

Shower Masturbation

Azriel

"I want to ruin you.” & "A little biting never hurt anybody.”

Garrick Tavis x Brennan Sorrengail x Reader

Sharing is caring.

[midiosaamor]

❪ ✧ ❫ 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓 𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑.

key: ⟢ fluff. | ☆ angst. | ꩜ suggestive. | ✮ coming soon. (drafted) | ༄ coming soon. (not drafted)

nothing here yet!

[oblako]

caught up on the ily fp and god this episode filled me with so much dread......

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

Masterlist:

the inheritance games

powerless

shatter me

[whousestypewriters]

✮ MALAKAI "KAI" AZER

key: ಇ fluff | ⟡ angst | ✰ suggestive

fics ~

friend's till the end right?