#;;ask response: ic the assistant

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

"Are you all alone on this floor?" What a weird place.

"Of course not!" The doctor's response is oddly bright---almost as if the two of them were suddenly PLAYING A GAME that only one of them KNEW THE RULES TO---and he's quick to gesture at the space between them, as if said gesture somehow explained everything for him.

"You're here too, aren't you? Ah....unless you were thinking about leaving...? Although I don't know why that would be, considering you only just got here!" RUNNING AWAY ISN'T ALLOWED.

#;;ask response: ic danny #;;ask response: ic danny (verse: angels of death) #anonymous #fun fact; I almost implied the fact that his assistant is also on the floor too uwu

[chuluoyi]

yours, indefinitely

- geto suguru x reader

each memorable and meaningful moment shared by the two of you during your journey to parenthood ♡

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact! (yes i can't resist it) pregnancy, a lot of comfort and love, insecurities, hurt/comfort, a dash of crack, soft!geto, massive and absolute fluff !!

note: based on this and this. this... is an idea i got after writing drabbles about soft dad gojo :') you all know this is my first time writing geto and the first time in a while i'm writing a longer fic so i'm having a lot of doubts but i hope you'll enjoy it!! wc. 3k !

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When you found out that you were five weeks pregnant, you were genuinely conflicted for two reasons— one, it was unexpected as you weren't even married yet, and two, you were anxious about your boyfriend's reaction to the news.

But contrary to your worries and fears, doubts and tears... Geto Suguru marries you. He led you to the city hall almost immediately— and just like that, in the eyes of the law, you were officially husband and wife.

Because he has always known that he wants to share his life with you, and with this newfound responsibility, it only reinforces his conviction that he wants that kind of forever with you.

month two

Your pregnancy wasn't a breeze—no pregnancy is, to be exact—and you had resigned yourself to mornings of throwing up, but you definitely didn't expect that you would get so sick to the point of almost passing out in the bathroom.

You never wanted Suguru to see you like this, but when a strong arm got a hold of you and pulled back your hair, your heart soared regardless.

"Hey, you okay?" Suguru asked, clear worry lined in his eyes. It was five in the morning—he must've been awoken by the ruckus you caused in the bathroom.

When you heaved a breath and nodded, his frown deepened. "Why didn't you call me?"

"N-no, Sugu—" the words barely left your lips before the overwhelming urge to retch hit you again and you doubled over the toilet bowl.

Suguru maintained a steady hold on your body, and not once did he waver even when you puked your guts out. His grip only loosened when you were done, supporting you up and assisting you in rinsing your mouth at the sink.

"Do you feel better?" he asked gently, dabbing your mouth with a tissue. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Suguru, you don't have to—" you untangled yourself from him feebly, still feeling faint. "It stinks here—"

"I have to," he reinforced, gaze boring straight at you. "Do you really think a smelly bathroom will stop me?"

“I d-don't want to trouble you...”

Suguru sighed and the next thing you knew, you found yourself being lifted in a princess carry, his hands securely under your knees. Surprised, you let out a yelp. "Suguru! P-put me down!"

"I'm telling you, you should trouble me," he pursed his lips together, face inching closer to yours, his dark eyes captivating, almost drawing you in. "We're in this together, remember?"

And in that very second, the sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and with it a renewed sense of love you had for this man, once just a figure you admired from afar and now, wholly your husband.

"Yeah..." you responded with a soft smile, completely unaware that Suguru cherished seeing that expression on your face more than anything else.

month three

When you reached the third month, you thank all heavenly deities out there that your nausea was getting much better.

But in its place was your outrageous craving requests that more often than not sent Suguru into a daze.

"Wha? Say that again?" he looked at you with twitching eyes, mostly in disbelief. "You can't seriously ask me to... get what?"

"Ice cream with lemon toothpaste flavor," you looked at him with sad puppy eyes, almost resembling that glassy-eyed emoji. "It seemed tasty, Suguru... I want it."

His immediate response was clear this time. "No. Love, that... I doubt that combination even exists."

"Hmph... but baby wants it."

"But—!"

"Or I'll just get the toothpaste and—"

"No! Absolutely no!" okay, this was crazy, but Suguru would figure it out, somehow. "You can't eat toothpaste! I'll get it for you, okay!"

"Teehee~" your small giggle actually made his head spin even further, but if it meant you and your baby's wellbeing, Geto Suguru would cross the roads and did something to get you that non-existent ice cream.

In the end, he settled for mint and orange (because the parlor ran out of lemon) to recreate the nonsense of lemon toothpaste flavor. But when you tasted it, your eyes welled up with tears though.

“This... doesn't taste like toothpaste or lemon,” you sniffled, feeling betrayed. “Suguru, you liar.”

. . . oh, and here goes round two of wild goose chase of recreating edible ice cream for you and the baby. Sigh.

month four

With each passing day, your belly swelled, becoming increasingly prominent and rounder. And you wouldn’t believe it but the pregnancy glow was there—through your husband’s eyes, you looked most radiant, carrying his baby.

And it multiplied more when he saw you interact with his two girls.

"Miss Y/N, is it a boy or a girl?" Nanako inquired, touching your bump, her voice filled with excitement.

"Ah, we haven't found out yet..." you patted her in the head, quite touched that now she cared for you this much too. "What do you think it's going to be, Nanako-chan?"

"Ooh, it has to be a boy! If it's a boy, surely he'll be as handsome as Master Geto!"

Mimiko, ever the calmer of the two, hummed. "Hmm, personally I think it's going to be a girl."

"Ehh? If it's a girl... I guess, yeah— at least she's going to be cute!"

Maybe it was your hormones at play, but your spirits dampened somewhat when you noticed how Nanako leaned more towards the prospect of baby brother. The thought lingered in your mind even later that night on your marital bed, as Suguru spooned you from behind.

“Come to think about it, I think we can find out the gender right about now…” you mused, stroking your belly absentmindedly. “Suguru, do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Suguru chuckled, placing his warm, bigger hand over yours on your growing tummy. “Hmm, you first. What do you think?”

"Honestly... a girl. At least, if it were up to me, I want a girl though."

"Ah, cute." Suguru felt his smile broaden at the very idea. "Mimiko and Nanako will get an adorable sister to play dress up with."

You nibbled your lower lip. "But you'd want a boy, wouldn't you?"

"Hm? No," he responded almost immediately. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm with you on this one. A girl would be nice."

"Even when you already have the twins?"

"Another baby girl— what's so bad with that?" Suguru sighed against your neck, his palm still tenderly caressing your belly. "One who will look like you—the woman whom I love the most... what are you worried about?"

One thing you loved about Suguru was his eloquence. His words had the power to persuade you, even when they seemed at odds with your own beliefs. And more often than not, his words were always aimed to make you feel safe.

And right now, you couldn't have loved him more.

. . .

In your next checkup, as if the gods were all granting your wish all this time— you're having a girl.

month five

“Why won’t she kick?” Suguru pressed his ears on your tummy on the bed, brows knitting together.

You grinned. “She was quite lively a little while ago. She's probably resting now.”

Suguru pursed his lips into a pout, snuggling closer to your round belly. “Hmm, little one, can you hear me? Just one kick for papa, please?”

Moments like this were ones you cherished the most. Your husband's love for your unborn child always filled your heart with warmth.

“She’s not responding.” Suguru sat up with a gentle sigh, a hint of disappointment shadowing his expression. Yet, he quickly mustered a warm smile for you. “Tired after bothering mama, huh?”

Suddenly, you let out a hearty chuckle. “You know, Suguru… I think our baby resembles you.”

He blinked in puzzlement. “Eh? How so?”

“She’s so peaceful, hardly causes me any discomfort lately—she’s idyllic, just like you.” You could feel your face getting warm but you just had to say this to your husband.

Suguru was visibly taken aback, but then the hints of pink tinted his face as he smiled. “Well… I’m glad that it’s been a smooth experience for you so far.”

Your heart swelled at his tender, genuine smile. Then, as if on cue, you felt the familiar stirrings and flutter inside—

“Suguru!”

You caught his hand and placed it on your tummy, just in time for your daughter to kick.

Suguru’s eyes sparkled with awe. "Did she just—?"

It was a profound moment for him, feeling the tangible sign of the new life you both had created. And as your laughter filled the room, light and joyful, Suguru knew with unwavering certainty—

He would do everything in his power to protect you and this baby. Who had become his whole world now.

month six

It began as one ordinary day— before came the most horrific incident Suguru never thought would happen to you.

He got a call that you had passed out in the train station. Suguru had never truly known fear until then, feeling every hair on his body stand on end. The details he was provided were frustratingly vague, and he desperately tried not to think the worst.

He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack as he made his way towards the hospital you were brought to. The mere possibility of anything harmful happening to either you or the baby was unbearable. He didn't allow himself to consider any negative outcomes, driven by the need to be by your side.

By the time he arrived, you had regained consciousness, though you were still drifting in and out, clinging onto your swimming consciousness.

"Are you okay? Love, talk to me." Suguru got a hold of your hand as soon as he arrived, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Suguru..." you managed to reply in feeble voice, still feeling the dull pounding in your temples. You could feel him squeeze your hand tighter. "I-I'm sorry... to m-make you worry..."

"Why are you saying sorry?" Suguru gritted his teeth in frustration. Always putting others first, he loved and sometimes hated that trait of yours. He stroked your hair. "Tell me how you feel. Do you feel better? Or should I call the doctor?"

Seeing how deeply concerned he was for both you and your baby brought a tear to your eyes. "I'm f-fine... just a little dizzy is all."

Once the doctor examined you and determined that you needed to stay in the hospital for a day due to low blood pressure, Suguru was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"You really, really scared me," he said in a raspy voice. "So many things could've gone wrong. What if you fell into the tracks instead? You would— I —" his voice actually hitched. "I could've lost both of you today."

At his words, a new flood of tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you couldn't help but sniffle. Suguru immediately comforted you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay… Don’t cry, please.” He cradled your face gently, thinking he had spooked you. “Just rest. I’m here,” and his other hand rubbed your belly for reassurance. “You and the baby are safe.”

Through this, you realized once again just how secure you were, with him.

month seven

You had been taking the prenatal classes lately—Suguru insisted on it because there was nothing he wouldn't spare for you— and the reality once again sank into you that you were going to have a little human to love and care soon.

"You need to hold her like this..." the friendly instructor guided, positioning her hand on the back of the doll's head. "Be gentle when washing the head, and make sure not to scratch her—"

Now you were once again learning how to bathe the baby. It felt complicated at first, but after the fifth session, you were getting the hang of it.

Not the case with Suguru though. He seemed to be genuinely struggling.

"No, sir! You're going to drown her like that!" the instructor gasped in horror, pulling the baby doll out of your husband's grasp. "I'm sorry, but the way you're holding her is too risky! You have to lower her slowly—"

It brought a wide smile on your face. It was a rare sight to see him not being good at what he was doing, so seeing him totally confused like this was refreshing.

"This is... not quite as easy as it looks," he let out a long sigh, still trying to wash the doll's head as gently as he was instructed. "And I can't really tell when I'm being too rough or not."

"Just imagine it's a real baby, how soft you think you can be?" you advised, almost giggling. "Babies are delicate, sort of like... oh! You can think of them as sensitive as Gojo!"

Suguru gave you a look. "If it were a baby with Satoru's face... I might just flip and toss him away."

And yet despite having a hard time for it, Suguru was persistent in this practice. Because no way was he going to miss out bathing his baby.

month eight

"Suguru... we—" you said in one intake of breath, but unable to continue as he crashed his lips into yours.

With skilled hands, Suguru deftly maneuvered the inside of your maternity sleepwear, unclasping your bra and your breasts—now heavy and full of milk—spilling out.

You didn’t mean to drag him into this. You just made one comment about how you thought that he no longer seemed to desire you as much now and Suguru responded by pulling you into a searing kiss, as if to show you that he, in fact, very much still does.

He groped your left breast and your body spasmed as you let out a hitched moan, writhing under him.

“What part of you—” he drawled, eyes blazing with certain electricity, voice deep and low—and you couldn’t help getting even wetter down there. “—that you said I’m not interested in anymore, mama?”

You mewled, feeling so small under him. You could only whine as he stripped you out of your silken undergarments and let you lay there bare, ready for the taking.

In Suguru’s eyes, you were the most divine. The mother of his child couldn't be less than heavenly. Seeing you so swollen and so full, with everything that was his—made him harder than ever possible.

You would learn it the fast way as his lips latched on your neck, nimble fingers worked through your breasts, and then your pussy—

“Ride me,” he commanded, right after turning you into a wet mush three times and tasting your cum—which was still as sweet as ever. He helped you get up and sat on his hardened member, that slid so easily inside you as you let out a whimper.

Gone was your gentle husband—he always turned into another beast entirely in bed.

“Look at you, sitting so pretty for me like this,” Suguru remarked with a meaningful grin as he placed his hands on both sides of your enormous belly.

“Mmnghh!” you scrunched your eyes shut. The sounds you made were completely beyond your will by now. Everything was just overwhelming you. The way his thick cock sheathed itself inside you and made you feel full, and the way your baby twisted and turned inside you at the same time was mind-blowing— and you haven't even started moving yet.

You could already see it already, how much of a mess you were going to be in once this ended.

Suguru noticed the baby’s rambunctious movement too and lightly tapped the skin of your belly, maintaining his sly smile.

“Oh, baby… forgive your papa and mama and buckle up, yeah? It’s going to be a rough ride for a bit.”

And soon, on one fateful morning, you were awoken by signs of labor, followed by your water breaking and full-blown contractions.

Suguru was beside you the entire time, worriedly hovering over you for support. He held you tight, providing comfort as you curled inwards each time intense contraction gripped your womb like a vice, hardening it into a rock-hard mass. Now is the real deal, he thought. Suddenly he was having doubts himself— he was going to become a parent. Both of you are.

Seeing you subjected to that much pain was almost unbearable, and even more so when your pained cries and screams echoed through the room as you brought your baby into the world, but then, then, suddenly—

His baby girl is here. She fit perfectly in his arms, round and snug in her blanket, with the softest black tufts of hair that she inherited from him. She cooed and mewled in her sleep—

—and Geto Suguru thought, nothing—absolutely nothing else mattered the very moment he laid eyes on his beautiful daughter.

"She is so tiny, so precious," Suguru whispered, his finger gently tracing the soft cheeks of the sleeping baby. Leaning on his shoulder, you could only sigh in awe, marveling at the sight of your husband and your new baby.

"Thank you," he turned to you then, eyes brimming with unshed tears and emotions. For giving me a another person to care for and love.

And you were at your happiest, finding yourself falling in love with your husband all over again, knowing well that he would cherish you with everything he had.

Days and months following the birth of your daughter was hectic and eventful.

Nanako and Mimiko had been a really great help around the house, and they adored your baby daughter more than anything, always taking turns to entertain her and make her all giggly, which brought you to another level of happiness.

And most of all, Suguru had taken his new role as a dad very seriously. You remembered him visibly struggling at baby care classes, but now he was a master of diaper changing and baby bathing— and you wouldn't be surprised if he was even better than you by now.

"Suguru, how are you so great at this all of a sudden?" you genuinely wondered with a literal question mark as you watched him washing your daughter in a bubble bath, her laughter filling the room.

"Hard work and perseverance, love," he replied, his tone light but proud. And you snorted when he gave you a wink.

Your daughter had never been shy to cry her heart out at 3 in the morning too, and each time she did, whenever you were about to leave the bed, Suguru would gently hold you back with a raspy voice, murmuring, "I'll get her. Go back to sleep."

He was the best husband a woman could ask for. Throughout the five months of your postpartum, he always made sure that you stayed hydrated, had a lot of rest and consumed nutritious food to replenish your strength. He always took over the baby-rearing duties whenever possible. You were treated no less than a princess, and honestly you were ever so grateful.

And so this time, despite his willingness, you got up from the bed and went to the baby's room. And the sight there caught your heart—

"There, there..." Suguru's voice was thick with sleep, yet he rocked your daughter back and forth with gentle patience. "Do you want to change your blanket? Is it not comfy for you?"

Your heart softened, melted—perhaps even fluttered away with the wind, turning into mush. When you first discovered a year ago that you were going to have a baby, you could never have anticipated that this was the life you would find yourself in.

Suguru opted to switch the blanket for a new one, but as you watched him fold and unfold it several times, confusion evident on his face, you decided it was time to step in.

"Here, you do it like this," your sudden appearance startled him, as you gently took the fabric away from him and wrapped your fussy daughter in it. "Looks like I finally found something you're still not great at," you teased, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

He was about to usher you back to the bedroom until you said that. "Heh."

You loved this life, and he too wouldn't trade it for the world. In the quiet tranquility of dawn, after both of you had successfully put your baby back to sleep, you spoke, "Thank you... and I love you, Suguru."

But he thought— you shouldn't have to thank him for anything, because after all, Geto Suguru lives for two princesses in his life; you and his baby daughter.

And after this, all that was left was giving you the wedding celebration of your dreams, one that both of you had been setting aside for a while now.

#geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #suguru geto smut #18+ only #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto fluff #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jjk imagines #geto suguru fluff #geto x you

[literaila]

one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

*

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not. 

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months. 

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning). 

but now you have to check the caller id. 

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh. 

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here. 

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still. 

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you. 

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end. 

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then-- 

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying. 

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before? 

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from-- 

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice. 

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door." 

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live? 

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking. 

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?" 

"what's going on?" 

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help." 

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since-- 

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that. 

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile. 

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him. 

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them. 

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has. 

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?" 

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance. 

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them. 

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you. 

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry. 

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?" 

*

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find." 

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment. 

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were. 

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you. 

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head. 

"no, we're good," tsumiki says. 

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote. 

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so. 

and he's smiling adoringly at you. 

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs. 

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.” 

“satoru.” 

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?” 

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious. 

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you? 

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin. 

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.” 

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.” 

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?” 

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.” 

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?” 

“you’re too pale.” 

“that’s rude, you—“ 

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.” 

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave. 

you don't know which one you want more. 

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something. 

but this? 

“what?!” 

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...” 

“you stole his kids?!” 

“i didn’t steal—“ 

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!” 

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?” 

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“ 

he scowls. “of course not.” 

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.” 

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.” 

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“ 

“how did you find out about them?” 

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death. 

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask. 

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.” 

“you guess?” 

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not. 

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met. 

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.” 

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.” 

“how old is he?” 

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head. 

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.” 

“and tsumiki?” 

“…nine.” 

“satoru.” 

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?” 

you can practically see him rolling his eyes. 

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“ 

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.” 

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?” 

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.” 

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.” 

“do you really feel the need to point that out?” 

“yes. what do you know about kids?” 

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.” 

you frown. “what do i know about kids?” 

“well, you like them, don’t you?” 

“what?” 

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself. 

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity. 

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...” 

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct. 

satoru pouts. 

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since. 

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for." 

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?" 

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?" 

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal." 

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?" 

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?" 

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--" 

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?" 

"satoru." 

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--" 

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them. 

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?" 

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?" 

"replace him?" 

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--" 

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is." 

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen. 

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him." 

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it." 

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't." 

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--" 

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?" 

you're silent. 

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be." 

you sigh. "satoru..." 

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control. 

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play. 

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself." 

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own. 

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way. 

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?" 

"help you?" 

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?" 

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?" 

"with me, yes." 

"are you kidding?" 

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help." 

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper. 

but you frown instead. "seriously?" 

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them. 

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know. 

"see? they already feel safe around you." 

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder. 

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies." 

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay." 

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them." 

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice. 

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need." 

"uh huh." 

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you." 

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least. 

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall. 

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..." 

"what?" 

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji." 

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching. 

"what? he said he didn't want to know--" 

*

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood. 

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it. 

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air. 

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering. 

tsumiki must be sleeping. 

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table. 

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet. 

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed. 

"you were up pretty late, though." 

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before. 

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you? 

you clear your throat. "how old are you?" 

he looks up again. "six. why?" 

"satoru wasn't sure." 

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to. 

"and tsumiki?" 

"seven." 

you nod, stepping away. 

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac? 

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?" 

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast? 

and then he nods, slowly. 

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like." 

*

next part.

#not sure where this is supposed to go but oh well #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru fanfic #satoru gojo #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #a typical family

[bangtanflirt]

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 10)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: slight themes of prejudice/ignorance (against wolf hybrids), some jealousy, brief mention of mxm smut

____

It’s the next night when the hybrids notice the change between you and Yoongi—with wound care being devoid of your fierce gazes and cold, one-word responses. Your gaze is warm now, and so are your words. The two of you work on your respective hybrids in harmony, occasionally asking the other to hand over new gauze or antibiotics.

Jin tilts his head to give better access to his neck, heart rate picking up as Yoongi’s fingers delicately graze his skin. His hands are cold, but Jin finds himself leaning into the touches regardless.

“The wounds look a little better now.” Yoongi softly comments, more an observation to himself than any attempt at conversation. Jin just nods, focusing on not flinching as the ointment stings. The man applying the cream mutters a “sorry” under his breath, trying to get this part over with quick. He’s firm when wrapping the gauze, and Jin can’t help but stare at the fingers maneuvering around his neck—slender and pretty. The oldest wolf gulps, catching himself before his mind starts listing off every other thing pretty about Min Yoongi.

The mood is entirely different when Yoongi gets to Jungkook; the wolf backs away instantly, eyes narrowing in distrust.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. Yoongi and I are fine now.”

It’s not lost on you the way most of them sigh in relief, glad to no longer be caught up in the middle of a cold war.

“Woo! We can finally put the pact to rest.” Taehyung smiles wide.

“Pact?”

“Yeah. We made a pact that we would ice Yoongi out until the two of you made up. It was kind of hard since…you know…we all live here. But we’re loyal,” Taehyung puffs out his chest in pride, “so we all stuck by it.”

Yoongi’s eyes dart to Jin, amused at the way the hybrid shyly ducks his head down. A pact sounded like serious business. No wonder he was anxious about them finding out about that night. Yoongi can’t help but find the shy guilt on Jin’s features adorable.

Just reading together made him such a mess. Why is that kind of cute?

A smile almost peeks its way through the man’s features, but the moment is interrupted by Jungkook’s annoyed tone.

“It’s not about the pact or whatever you two have going on. I just don’t like him.”

The room is pin-drop silent, with you looking the most taken-aback. His voice is coarse and unfriendly, as if it belongs to some new person entirely. It takes you a second before you can figure out what to say.

“Jungkook, Yoongi hasn’t done anything wrong towards you," you proceed tentatively, "You’re being rude. Please apologize.”

The wolf simply rolls his eyes, “I can’t help who I like and don’t like y/n. I’m gonna go get ready for bed. Jimin hyung can replace my bandages later.” He leaves no room for argument.

The rest of the wolves share a knowing look while watching him walk off, but you’re completely in the dark.

“What was that all about? Jungkook’s never acted out like that…is he not feeling okay?”

Namjoon nervously clears his throat, “This is him feeling okay. Jungkook’s never dealt well with people outside of the pack. The hormones wearing off has him putting his guard up again.”

Oh.

“So this is him going back to his usual self?”

They nod, “We’ll get him under control. Don’t worry.”

It had never occurred to you that Jungkook’s real personality would be that much different from him on the hormones. It seems as if you’ve been too naïve.

Namjoon can read your thoughts like an open book, trying his best to find the right words to ease your worries, “Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.”

You nod, unable to hide your disappointment at the prospect of starting over. As glad as you are that those wretched drugs are losing their hold, it’s not exactly fun to hear you’ll soon be back to zero progress with him. Right now it’s just Yoongi he doesn’t like, but it can’t be that long until those narrow eyes are pointed at you.

“And the rest of you…will it be like that for everyone?” It’s a question you don’t really want to ask, but it’s better to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. Will they all turn into strangers in a few days? If they do start seeing you as a stranger—or worse, an enemy­­—then how long until things get bloody?

Namjoon scoots over to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We all have things different about us off the hormones, but Jungkook is the only one who can get a bit wild. He’s definitely the most different. I can reign him in, though, so don’t worry. We’re not going to be a danger to you.”

Yoongi looks at where you and Namjoon connect with an irked expression, not fond of how close the wolf is sitting.

“How can you guarantee that?” He speaks up, tone borderline challenging, “Just taking your word for it isn’t good enough when we’re talking about y/n’s safety. You’re wolves, after all.”

There it was. Four simple words that had every hybrid shifting uncomfortably.

You’re wolves after all. A statement jam-packed with prejudices they were all too familiar with. They were wolves, so of course they were aggressive and barbaric. Of course.

Namjoon meets the man’s stare, but his own is far more calm. A good Alpha knows when it’s beneficial to pick a fight and when it isn’t, and provoking Yoongi isn’t going to do anyone any good right now. It’s best to deal with reason.

“As many stereotypes as there are about us, wolves do not simply kill or maim for fun. We are not the bloodthirsty monsters all your books and TV shows make us out to be. Hell, even a full-wolf’s response to seeing a human is to retreat. The only reason we would ever be hostile is if you pose a threat, and it’s no secret what kinds of cruel things hybrid owners usually do with wolves.”

Jin nods in the back, adding his own two-cents in, “It’s not fair that we keep getting this bad reputation. I don’t even know why we’re stuck with it—I mean, hyena hybrids are right there! They literally claw faces off the second they see you guys, but no, let’s make the wolves the bad guys in every children’s tale.”

Yoongi backs down at seeing the frustration on Jin’s face, suddenly feeling apologetic for his statement.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. We’re used to it.”

Yoongi’s about to speak again, but you interrupt before he digs this hole any further, “Yoongi’s just being overly cautious for my sake, please don’t take it to heart. I have no doubt that humans have done plenty of wrong to your kind, and I’m sorry that’s how things are. As long as you’re with me, I’m going to go off of what I see, not what anyone else tells me. And so far, what I see are wonderful wolves who have done no harm to me. Namjoon, you seem confident that you can keep Jungkook calm, and I’m going to trust you on that.”

Again, Namjoon’s face lights up at the mention of trust.

“Thank you, y/n. We won’t let you down.”

You smile, getting ready to leave. Yoongi follows, hanging on at the doorframe for a second longer to lock his gaze with Jin’s.

“I didn’t mean to be ignorant. I’m sorry.” And with that, he leaves.

Jungkook comes out from the bathroom moments after, still very much in an irritated mood.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, treading carefully.

“She took his side over mine.”

“Oh Koo, I don’t think she was trying to take sides.”

“She wanted me to apologize. Why should I apologize? If I don’t like him then I don’t like him.”

Hoseok sighs, motioning for the youngest wolf to sit in between his legs. Jungkook nestles between his hyung’s thighs, back resting against Hoseok’s chest as his arms come to hug his middle, careful not to touch where Tae's claw marks are. Hoseok plants a kiss on Jungkook’s cheek, trying to dull his displeased scent.

Jimin attempts to pick up the conversation when it’s clear Hoseok doesn’t know how.

“Baby, we know how you get around others, but y/n doesn’t. You caught her by surprise.”

“But you guys never make me apologize. You always take my side.”

“That’s because we’re your pack, Koo. Of course we’ll always take your side.”

The words feel like cold water being poured on him, jolting enough to get his thoughts straightened out.

You’re not part of his pack.

He doesn’t know why he fell into a sense of comfort with you…probably the hormones. But you’re not his packmate. And, as Jimin implied, you have no obligation to take his side—and he has no obligation to take yours either.

___

Jungkook doesn’t talk to you at breakfast. Nor at lunch. You don’t attempt to speak to him either—having a feeling that forcing unwanted interaction is just going to push him away. The plan is to wait until he lets you in. It sounds easy, but it’s not. All you want to do is ruffle his soft brown hair and ask him to recap the newest K-drama he’s watching, but you can’t. You watch with longing as he leans into Namjoon’s touch without a moment of hesitation, brown eyes shining up at his Alpha.

I just have to be patient. He’ll come around.

You don’t know if you’re being naïve again, but wishful thinking is all you have going for you.

On the bright side, you and Yoongi are in a good place, and you don’t feel like you’re walking on needles every time you text for an office update. It’s late afternoon when your phone rings, with his name popping up on the screen.

“Hey. How did the 1pm meeting go? Is Rollie all good?”

“Everything went perfectly. We’re good to proceed with funds for Rollie.”

“Thank god. We could not afford to delay that any longer. I’m glad Minhyun got it done swiftly.”

“He only got it done this quick because someone spent her vacation days camping in their financial statements instead of actually enjoying time off.”

“Well, whoever did that sounds like she’s very efficient.”

Yoongi laughs, shaking his head at his desk.

“Any other updates I should know about?”

“There is one thing: Gong Ha-Jun came by earlier today, looking extremely out of it. He kept telling me to tell you he’s sorry and that he really needs this job. I had to rush to my next meeting before I could figure out what that was all about. Do you have any clue?”

“His wife must’ve come clean.”

Yoongi scrunches his brows in confusion, trying to keep up, “Wife?”

“Yeah. You know the art store incident I told you about?”

“With the lady threatening Hybrid Control?”

“Yeah. The lady is Ha-Jun’s wife. I was surprised he didn’t come begging the second after it happened, but it seems it took her a while to tell him. I’ll be processing his termination papers soon, so you won’t have to worry about him bugging you much longer.”

Incredulity replaces confusion as Yoongi scrambles to have you rethink, “Wait, let’s hold on a second. You said you’d try to be more understanding at work.”

“I am being more understanding. I’m quietly processing the papers instead of firing him in front of the whole office like I want to.”

He thinks over his words very carefully, knowing he has to convey his points without threatening your ego.

“Y/n, this isn’t reasonable. What his wife did was out of line, but Ha-Jun is an outstanding employee. He’s even up for a promotion in his department.”

You let out a dry laugh.

“Like hell he is. Promoting an employee after his wife tried to humiliate and practically extort money from me…yeah that sounds like a good precedent to set.”

Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation, now leaning fully forward with elbows propped up.

“Ha-Jun’s worked here for fifteen years, and he has one of the highest success rates for bids. Do you know how many times Choi was trying to get him in on shady deals behind your back? But he always declined. If you go through with firing him, then you’re losing someone honest and competent. It’s only going to hurt you in the long run, y/n.”

“But if I let it go—”

“If you let it go, he’s going to be incredibly grateful, work harder, and be even more loyal to you.”

There’s a moment of silence as you gather your thoughts.

“Please, can we at least try it this way?”

You sigh, unable to say no when it’s Yoongi asking so earnestly.

“Okay. I won’t fire him. But tell him his wife has to submit a written apology. That’s not unreasonable.”

“I’ll tell him. You won’t regret this.”

You’re skeptical, but you decide to believe him—because it’s him.

___

“I’m surprised every time I peek in here. It’s coming along wonderfully Tae.”

Taehyung turns around to see you at the door, eyes transfixed on the canvas. Not much has been done, only the hair so far, but the part that is finished looks as if it’s a photograph. You genuinely can’t comprehend the level of skill it must take. You’ve collected many oil paintings in your life, in the form of either gifts or through charity auctions, but rarely have you stopped to think about the hours of work and dedication it takes to create one. They’ve always been pretty decorations to spice up a part of the estate—but now, seeing the love Taehyung pours into each brushstroke has you finding a newfound appreciation for the craft.

“You think so?”

“You’re practically a modern day Van Gogh.”

His boxy grin makes an appearance at the compliment, but it’s short-lived as another figure comes up behind you.

You jump up at the feeling of another body.

“Jimin! Don’t sneak up on me!” You chide, playfully smacking his arm.

He laughs before letting his head rest on your shoulder, eyes trailing to Taehyung and his art.

“That looks incredible.”

Taehyung’s face visibly drops as he mutters an indifferent thank you before turning around to immerse himself back into painting.

You look back and forth, “Did something happen with you two?” It’s a whisper, only meant for Jimin’s ears. Neither of you know that Taehyung’s dialed into his hybrid hearing as well, paranoid that Jimin might say something to undermine the younger wolf.

“No, we’re fine.”

You cock up a brow, not buying it, “Then why did he ignore you?”

“He’s just in the zone right now.”

You want to prod further but decide to back off, “Well, I’m gonna go make dinner.”

“I’ll help!”

“Jin’s already helping. You should stay here, keep Tae company.”

Both hybrids know the implications of your words.

Talk to each other and figure things out.

You push Jimin into the room before closing the door, mouthing an encouraging “you got this” on the way out.

He awkwardly hovers behind his busy packmate, trying to find his voice.

“What did I do, Tae? What did I do so wrong that you can’t even look at me anymore?” His voice cracks midway, unpleasant emotions stirring up in the pit of his stomach.

Taehyung puts the brush down, fearing that his hands will start shaking if he tries to paint while having this conversation. He still doesn’t look back, though.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. How could you? You never do anything wrong. You’re so fucking perfect that it has to be me who’s always wrong, right?”

“Tae, baby—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Those days are behind us Taehyung. The lab, being compared to each other, that fucking scoreboard…it’s all in the past. We don’t have to live like that anymore.”

The mention of the scoreboard only adds kindling to the fiery rage inside of Taehyung, making him turn around at last.

“The scoreboard where you always ranked first or second? Very easy for you to say. Do you know what it feels like to see your name last place every single week? The fear of the punishment that comes after…watching those researchers laugh and draw what torture method to use out of a fucking hat…it was their favorite part of the week. But it was never a problem for you, huh?”

Hot tears trail down Taehyung’s face, and Jimin’s eyes are ready to spill at any moment.

“I was just trying to survive! We were all drugged up and out of our minds in there! Why does it seem like you’re only mad at me?!”

“Because you were supposed to be my best friend! And now I can’t look at you without thinking about every time you were spared and I wasn’t. You wanna know what my nightmare was about, Jimin? It was about you—you laughing away as they did whatever cruel thing they wanted to me.”

The air leaves Jimin’s lungs, feeling as if the room could collapse on him at any moment. How could things ever get this bad? His beloved packmate, his best friend, having nightmares of him? His tears don’t hold themselves back anymore.

“I-I never laughed. You know that.”

“Doesn’t matter. You were probably laughing in your head. Bet it was so funny, right? Seeing the most useless member of the pack mess up over and over again.”

Jimin wishes he could get his words out without sputtering, but it’s impossible when the tears won’t stop. “Taehyung…baby…I h-have never t-thought of you as useless.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s not a lie! You’re the most precious person in the world to me! How could I ever think of you as useless when I can’t survive a day without you? It’s only you thinking of yourself that way Taehyung. You’re my everything.”

Jimin dares to step closer, needing to feel any hint of closeness to the younger wolf. Taehyung doesn’t say anything back, sobbing into his hands. He hates that he craves the closeness too. Hates that he’s been craving it for months. Because even in between those nightmares and twisted perceptions, there’s still the good memories. Memories of putting salt in Namjoon’s drink to rebel against him, or replacing Hobi’s shaving cream with whipped cream, or any other one of countless pranks they’d pull on the rest. There’s also other types of memories, of being tangled up in the between the sheets exchanging “I love yous” and forgetting anything outside of the two of them existed. It’s a war within his mind, tugging him back and forth between which Jimin to believe is the real one.

“Tae please…the lab has taken so much away from us already…don’t let it ruin me and you forever.”

The gravity of his words sink down on Taehyung’s shoulders—the prospect of losing his bond with Jimin forever. This Jimin, who seems real and tangible and not the warped one in his nightmare. It’s Taehyung that reaches out this time, head falling onto Jimin’s shoulder as his sobs get more intense. Jimin holds the boy tight, fearing that he’ll slip away any second.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.”

“I just-I just always feel like I’m not good enough. For this pack. For you. I hate feeling like this all the time. I’m so exhausted Jimin.”

“You’re more than good enough. You don’t need to prove anything for our love. We love you because you’re ours. That’s all you ever need to be—not perfect, just ours.”

___

No one comments on Taehyung and Jimin’s equally puffy eyes during dinner, but everyone does notice them finally sitting next to each other. Namjoon glances over, smiling at the way the two caretaker hybrids have joined hands under the table.

It’s Jimin’s signature trait when reconciling with a packmate—clinging onto them to make up for all the time they’ve been distant. No one else in the pack relies on physical touch quite as much as Jimin, and even now he’s acting as if letting go of the boy’s hand for one second will result in disaster. Taehyung looks a little shy. A little embarrassed at giving in so easily. But he indulges Jimin, nonetheless.

While Namjoon tries to be discreet in his joy, Hoseok has a completely different approach.

“Joonie look! Our pups made up!” He beams with excitement, causing Taehyung to cough into his cup mid-sip.

“Hyung, you’re embarrassing them!”

“I don’t care. Look at them! They’re holding hands!”

Taehyung would be running out the room right now if not for the fact that Hoseok was actually laughing. It’s the first time they’ve heard that laugh in a while now, and the first time you’ve heard it all. You think it might be your new favorite sound.

Taehyung smiles wide, playing into whatever his hyung wants him to, “Hobi hyung, quit teasing!”

“~I won’t. You can’t make me.~” He sing-songs, oblivious to the heart eyes everyone’s shooting at him.

___

Yoongi walks in at around eleven-thirty, the wears of a long workday evident on his face. He’s kicking off his shoes when you enter, wine glass in hand.

“Thought you could use this.”

He thankfully takes the glass, letting the Cabernet Sauvignon hit his nose before taking a much needed sip.

“You’d make a lovely assistant” he quips, grinning at the way you scoff.

“Yeah yeah, drink up boss. I know you had dinner at the office, but there’s leftover pasta if you’re still hungry. Jin was pretty adamant about leaving some for you.”

Yoongi’s heart swells at that.

“He did? Even after what I said yesterday?”

“We all talked about it at dinner, and they understand you were just being protective of me. They aren’t holding it against you—except for Jungkook who had daggers in his eyes when he found out. But he’s not on nice terms with me either sooo…”

“He’s shut you out completely?”

You nod and Yoongi gives you a sympathetic look.

The two of you make your way to the kitchen, where he wastes no time to dig into the pasta, eyes automatically closing the second the rich flavors hit his tongue. You use the time to pour yourself some wine as well, opting for a white option instead of the Sauvignon.

“Damn, Jin can cook.”

“You should have seen in him in the kitchen today, the hormones wearing off has him turning into some kind of Gordon Ramsey clone. He was making snarky comments about literally everything I was doing! I couldn’t hold a knife for two seconds without him telling me I’m doing it all wrong!”

Yoongi throws his head back in laughter, imagining the scene play out in his head.

“Fuck, can’t believe I missed that for paperwork.”

“You’ll see it soon. I have no doubt it’s about to be a common occurrence in this house.” You join in on the laughter.

Yoongi indulges in the delicious alfredo while you catch him up on what’s happened. It’s not long before you’re each finishing up your second glass of wine, feeling a familiar low buzz.

“I’m glad Jimin and Taehyung made up” he comments in between sips.

“You and me both. I can’t imagine all the pain they share. I feel like even hell itself wouldn’t be as cruel as that lab.”

“I think the devil looks up to Kang as inspiration.”

“A-fucking-men to that.” you raise your glass and clink it to his, “On a much lighter note, my mom called today about another marriage proposal.”

“How long before you hung up the phone?”

“Three minutes.”

“Ooh, a new record. Which chaebol was it this time?”

“Jun Hee-Chul.”

Yoongi’s eyes go wide,

“The heir of Jun Tech? The same guy who’s HoloPad venture you shut down?”

“Yup, hilarious right? They’re trying to marry me off to placate Jun Tech and keep the business they bring.”

“And this Hee-Chul guy, he’s not pissed off at you?”

“Nope,” you roll your eyes, “apparently he’s had his sight set on me for a while. Says I’m his ideal type…that he likes a challenge. He’s been married once before fyi, had the girl running out the door the second he told her to be a full-time housewife.”

Yoongi cringes at that, just like you did when you first heard it.

“A proper chaebol sleazeball I see.”

“I just don’t get guys like that. I mean, if you want a housewife, marry a girl who wants to be a housewife. It’s not rocket science.”

Yoongi hums in agreement, grabbing your empty glass before making his way over to do the dishes. You look at him, sleeves rolled up and focused in on scrubbing. The domesticity of it all has you wondering…

“What about you, Yoongi?”

He quirks up a brow, “What about me?”

“What’s your ideal type? You never really talk about it. What kind of girl would you marry?”

“Oh, I’m not picky. I only have one requirement,” He breaks out into a mischievous grin, “She has to be filthy rich.”

You lightly swat his arm, making him swat back and get some of the soapy water on you, both of you grinning like idiots.

“I’m asking seriously!”

“What makes you think my lifelong dream to become a trophy husband isn’t serious?”

“Oh, so you just want to be arm-candy for some fortune 500 socialite? Then why don’t I ever see you playing the field at those charity events?”

Because I’m too busy staring at you the whole time.

“A guy as charming as me doesn’t need to go out and try y/n. They’ll all come to me in no time.”

“Oh yeah? Are you some type of hidden Cassanova that I don’t know about?”

“Exactly. I have to keep it hidden or else you’d fall for me in an instant.”

He’s done washing, but it’s in an instant that you’ve got him trapped, caged between your body and the sink. Eyes playfully challenging his statement.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Work your magic on me. I want to see if you’re as good as you say you are.”

His eyes dart to every other part of the kitchen, trying not to think of how nice your perfume smells or how close your body is to his.

“You were saying you could swoop any girl off her feet, but now you can’t even look at me. You’re going to have to work really hard if you want to charm a socialite, Mr.Cassanova.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the wine or the way you’re egging him on (probably a dangerous combination of both), but it’s the final push he needs.

Because in the next moment, he’s not looking around anymore. He’s not looking at anything—his eyes are closed tight the second his lips dip down to meet yours. It’s a gentle peck, but it’s most nerve-wracking thing he’s ever done. Panic pulls him back instantly as he scans your face, searching for any indication of how you feel. But your expression is unreadable.

____

A/N: Comments, reblogs, and asks really help keep up with these weekly updates, so please let me know what you think!

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #hybrid bts x reader #poly bts #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #hurt/comfort

[augustinewrites]

+ series summary: as marius von hagen’s assistant, it’s your job to accompany him to certain public functions. you’re used to being in the background, but this time? the event is an engagement party, and he doesn’t need an assistant. he needs a date.

as soon as the elevator opens to the penthouse floor, you pull the key card out of your purse and march straight to the door on your right.

six months ago you would have hesitated. six months ago you would have knocked politely, with a cup of coffee, a muffin, and a kind smile. 

now, you slap the key against the scanner aggressively. as soon as it turns green, you push down the handle and lean heavily on the door to let yourself in. 

you scrunch your nose as you step over a pair of sloppily discarded high heels, slipping your own off and pushing both pairs aside with a stocking-clad foot. then you venture into your boss’ apartment, deciding to deal with the blonde scrolling through her phone on the couch first.

“you need to leave,” you tell her dispassionately, picking up what you assume is her clutch and tossing it into her lap. “this isn’t a bed and breakfast. mr. von hagen has business to attend to.”

you wait impatiently as she looks you up and down, taking in your office ensemble along with the identification card hanging from your lanyard. 

relenting, she lets you herd her out the door without protest, but not before handing off all her contact information in case your boss ‘wants to have fun again.’

you take the little slip of paper (noting the lipstick kiss in the corner), then slam the door in her face. 

monday mornings are always the same. 

after kicking out sunday’s trash, you grab some aspirin and a glass of water, heading for the master bedroom.

predictably, marius is still passed out. you find him practically spread-eagled in the bed, with only a thin top sheet protecting his modesty. 

you’ve learned the hard way that marius sleeps nude, but seeing his toned chest and abdomen, along with the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading below the sheet never fails to make you catch your breath…

you squeeze your eyes shut, telling yourself to snap out of it. he’s your boss, the man who signs your paychecks and is the cause of some of your biggest headaches to date. 

“sir,” you whisper harshly from the doorway, reluctant to move closer. when you don’t get a response, you call out to him again, this time at a normal volume. much to your chagrin, his cute sleeping face - mouth slightly parted, brows scrunched - remains unchanged. 

huffing, you step around last night’s clothes and empty liquor bottles to rip the curtains open, letting the morning sunshine stream into the room. this action makes marius stir, groaning tiredly as he lays a hand over his eyes. 

“sir,” you say again, with more force this time. “you have a consult with the legal team in a half hour.”

“the legal team…” he mutters, still refusing to pry his eyes open. 

he continues to grumble uselessly into his pillowcase, clearly intending to make your job as difficult as possible. 

…until you check your watch and decide that you can’t waste anymore time coddling him, so you take the half filled glass of water and dump it over his head. 

he jerks up with a sputter, glaring at you as he swipes the ice water out of his face. 

“there are nicer ways to wake a guy up, you know,” he huffs, shaking the water out of his hair. 

you set the glass down, sighing. “if you want to be babied, sir, you should call vincent.” 

he mumbles something you’re sure is rude under his breath, pushing wet bangs out of his face before asking, “where’s maia?”

“first of all her name is–” you check the note you’d scrunched in your pocket. “–mia and she left her cell number, home number, and the number of the strip club she works at.” you hold it out to him, humming. “very classy, sir.”  

he doesn’t even look at it, so you crumple it back up and stuff it into your pocket. 

“yikes. i don’t know why she bothered. i already gave her the speech.” he shrugs, clearing his throat as he recites, “‘last night was incredible. you’re a great girl, but right now in my career–’” 

“‘i just can’t give you the relationship you want or deserve,’” you finish, having heard him recycle the practiced line to multiple other hookups in the last three months.

“hey, you memorized it!” he exclaims, lifting his hand for a high five. he lowers it when he sees your unimpressed look. “wrong crowd, i see that now.”

rolling your eyes, you turn around and open the door to his closet, grabbing a set of clothes that costs more than your rent and laying them over your arm as you call over your shoulder, “when i took this job, i didn’t expect to deal with the pussy parade. be honest, are you in some kind of competitive sex tournament?”

“i’m young and single!” he reasons, catching the boxers you throw at his head and quickly slipping them on. “i’m allowed to sow a few oats.” 

everyone in the office knows that it’s really about the lawyer from themis getting engaged. 

you’ve seen the way marius used to look at her, seen the plain adoration that used to shine in his gaze. it’s why ever since news of her engagement, you go through this every monday— when she comes in to help him navigate the confusing reports and updates of confusing legalese.

his behaviour these past few weeks was a coping mechanism. an unhealthy one, obviously, but who were you to tell that to the president of a multi-billion dollar company?

“whatever you say, sir,” you shrug, shoving the pants and button down into his arms. “get changed. i’ll call vincent and have him let everyone know we’re on our way.” 

you step out of the bedroom to let him get dressed, deciding to make yourself busy by starting the coffee maker. as the scent of freshly ground beans fills the penthouse, you take a moment to pull out your phone and double-check your boss’ calendar. 

after the meeting with legal, his schedule is relatively clear. only a handful of things you need him to review, along with a spot of press. it’s a relatively easy monday, by all means.

it’s then that berry decides to make an appearance, the adorable russian blue leaping up onto the counter and meowing insistently to get your attention. smiling, you reach out to scratch lightly under his chin.

“what are we going to do with him, huh?” you whisper, scooping him up into your arms. content purrs rumble against your palm as you stroke his fur. 

“traitor,” marius scoffs, entering the kitchen. you glance over your shoulder to see him looking somewhat put together. not only is his shirt still untucked, but his hair is still messy and wet and you’re positive he’s still sweating tequila. 

he ignores the fresh coffee in favour of grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge. he unscrews the cap, flicking it onto the counter so he can take a swig. 

“unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath. marius  glances over at you, wiping the corner of his mouth with sleeve before holding the carton out to you. 

“what? you want some?”

you push it away with a fingertip. “no, thank you.”

he shrugs, screwing the cap back on and shoving it back into the fridge. you and berry watch with equally unimpressed looks as he rummages through the oversized pantry, resurfacing with a box of cereal. 

you turn to open a nearby cabinet, grabbing a bowl. 

but in those few seconds, he’d already ripped the box open and was scooping cereal out with his hands, pouring handfuls into his mouth. 

this is it, you think as he gets crumbs all over his nice shirt. this is what marius von hagen looks like when he hits rock bottom. 

_____

you barely make it to the meeting on time. 

the whole team is already seated, ready to begin. marius - with the mcdonald’s iced coffee that’d almost made the two of you late in hand - takes a seat at the head of the conference table. 

your boss is surprisingly alert despite the fact that his brain is currently steeped in alcohol. he takes notes, asks appropriate questions, makes thoughtful suggestions. it’s one of the things you respect about him. he is a professional first and foremost.

“it seems that’s all for today,” he says once the last subject has been covered. “if there are any other questions, please keep them to yourselves.”

with that, he makes his grand exit.

well…he was a professional most of the time.

you're quick to jump in when the room fills with dissatisfied murmurs. “if you have any questions, please direct them to vincent or myself so we may raise them with mr. von hagen at a later time."

with that, everyone carries on with their day. you head back to your desk with an armload of paperwork for marius to look over and sign. you read the first few pages as you walk, already working out a summary in your head.

you make it to your desk just in time to see rosa following marius into his office.

chatting in his office after a meeting is a fairly common occurance. rosa comes by to help review whatever contracts his staff of corporate lawyers had drawn up, or walk him through any topics confused about.

your phone buzzes with a message from marius.

[marius]: come get me in five to say that we’ll be late for lunch.

what isn’t common is for him to do that.

but you do as he says, knocking politely when the five minutes are up.

“come in!”

“sir,” you begin after sending rosa a small wave. “we’ll be late for lunch if we don’t leave now.”

“lunch?” the young lawyer echoes, sounding confused. “it’s hardly 10am.”

marius clicks his tongue, closing the folder on his desk. “well, you know what they say. early worm gets the worm.”

“that’s not at all correct—”

he’s already nudging you out the door, a respectful hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you away from his office. “see you later, miss!”

“what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your face heat up as you become the object of your coworker’s confused stares. “i have work to do—”

marius pulls you into an empty conference room, closing the door behind you.

“rosa invited me to her engagement party this weekend,” he says, tone clipped.

you’re not quite sure where he’s going with this. “shall i pick out a gift?”

“no, i’ll take care of that,” he tells you. then, with a growing smile that almost always means he’s up to something, he asks, “what are you doing this saturday?”

“i—”

“trick question. i’d like you to accompany me as my date.”

#marius von hagen x reader #tot x reader #tears of themis x reader #marius x reader #i know i said i’d do reo for this au but that’s coming next #i had to get this out of my system

[iced-nct]

Greedy NJM

Pairing: CFO Na Jaemin x F Reader Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: Suggestive, occasional swear, jealous Jaemin Synopsis: Jaemin knew the second you walked into his office to interview for a sales role that he needed to hire you. Incredibly well spoken and driven, you reminded him a lot of himself in some ways. Except he didn’t want you for a sales position. Oh no. He wanted you as his personal assistant. Promptly after meeting with you, he let go of his current assistant to hire you for it instead. If Jaemin is going to be stuck at his desk for ten hours a day, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t have a pretty thing to stare at just outside his door. Maybe you’ll be able to tame the infamous office playboy. 

a/n: just casually dipping in to drop a 4.5k Jaemin Apply Within fic that I have been working on for like years lmfao. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! I promise I'm going to be more active with my fics again!!!

Jaemin’s secretary blinked slowly at him, as if to process what she had just heard. “You are… firing me? Did I do something?” 

“No, I just needed a change of scenery! And I’m not firing you, I am just relocating you to a different department” He chirped in response, his voice cheerful though his eyes were dark and expression firm.

Jaemin turned his back to her to head into his corner office, “oh. One more thing.” He turned, one palm pressed firmly against the door frame as he leaned back. “I need all your things moved by tonight. My new secretary starts tomorrow morning” He winked before slamming his door closed.

-

Today could not have been off to a worse start. First there was the hole in your favorite pair of stockings, then your coffee machine decided to have a meltdown, and finally you had missed the bus that would allow you extra time to grab coffee on the way to the office. As far as first day’s go, this was not your best. Having to settle for a pair of plain sheer black tights to wear under your skirt and ordering a taxi, knowing full well the extra money was well worth having time to grab a cup of coffee. You hurried out the door, laptop bag and purse in hand, just hoping as you hustled into the back of the cab that the day wouldn’t get any worse.

The line at the coffee shop was surprisingly not horrendous, it only took about 10 minutes before you were holding your iced coffee and making your way through the entrance to Neo Dream. Jaemin’s office was on the 20th floor, you remembered this from your interview. As you moved to get off on your floor a solid chest made contact with your cup, spilling coffee all down the front of yourself and the stark white dress shirt in front of you. 

“I am so sorry! I was in such a rush, I should have paid better attention” You rambled, hoping that this stranger wouldn’t chew you out for such an accident.

“Miss Y/n?” You looked up to see Jaemin smiling down at you. “First day jitters?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice.

Your cheeks flushed with heat, “I am very sorry Mr. Na. I will clean this up right away” 

“Don’t bother, I will call the janitorial staff to clean up. We should get started with your tour, after we get changed” He tilted his head, indicating for you to follow.

The view from Jaemin’s office was stunning to say the least, the sun was almost up now but you could imagine the sunrises and sunsets that could be viewed from these windows.

“Yes, the view is lovely isn’t it?” You turned to find Jaemin, a sliver of his chest just barely exposed to you as he buttoned up a black dress shirt. “I apologize, I seem to have run out of women’s blouses, but I do have a knit sweater that may work” he jested while handing you a gray wool sweater. 

It was clearly men’s, but this would have to make do for today. Just as you were about to slip the sweater on over your stained blouse a hand stopped you. 

“If we don’t send these off to the drycleaners, the stain will set and ruin your shirt. I can’t have that, and I don’t want you to either. Just wear the sweater and I’ll send your shirt off with mine” His smile was charming, almost knee weakening. 

“Oh okay… but is there somewhere else for me to change?” Your head tilted in question.

Jaemin’s eyes widened with realization “Yes, oh gosh I’m sorry, I will turn around. You let me know when you’re decent”

You turned your back to him and began unbuttoning the shirt. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin could make out the reflection of your chest in the window beside him. Not much could be seen, but the way the black lace of your bra held you had him wishing you allowed him to watch. Just as Jaemin’s dress pants started to get a little too tight for his liking, you cleared your throat, snapping him back from his thoughts.

“Thank you for the sweater! What should I get started with today?” You asked, whilst handing over your stained shirt. 

“You can get started on unpacking your desk and setting yourself up. I have some afternoon meetings that I will be in today, so I doubt we will see eachother very much. Just answer the phone if it rings and book in meetings for this week” You nodded at the instructions and headed out, closing the door behind you.

You paused to lean on it, breathing slowly as the picture of that small sliver of Jaemin’s defined chest floated around in your head. In the office behind you, your boss sat down at his desk, taking all the effort in the world to not call you back in to help him deal with the situation beneath his desk right now.

-

Days had turned into weeks, and though nothing of note had happened after that first eventful morning. You had settled in wonderfully, making friends with people on the finance floor, accompanying Jaemin to the occasional meeting to take notes for him when he didn’t feel like it, and canceling meetings he had with Mark just because it was funny to watch them squabble. There was lots of extra chatter throughout the office as everyone buzzed with excitement for the first annual company gala. A newer finance colleague had asked you to the gala a few days ago, and you had gladly accepted, assuming that it was a friendly gesture from one newbie to another. Excitement filled your chest as you thought about how much fun it would be to attend this company gala. The excitement was cut short however, when the door to Jaemin’s office swung open. Your boss stood there staring daggers at you, dread rushed in as you mentally went through every file you placed on his desk today, every meeting you had booked. What could you have possibly done wrong?

“Y/n. Come in here please.” Jaemin’s voice was deadly cold as he strode back towards his desk.

You slinked in, he gestured for you to close the door. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked, hesitating to turn around to face him.

“Have a seat, we’ll talk about it” He nodded to the chair in front of his desk for you to sit.

Despite sitting, the load on your shoulders felt ten times heavier under Jaemin’s stare. He slid a small pink envelope across the desk to you, your name scrawled in ink on the front. 

“What is this?” He tapped the envelope with his middle finger.

“I’m not sure, I haven’t seen that before” You answered, and truthfully you hadn’t seen it before.

“It was in the files you brought me this morning, just tucked between some reports. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and found out my trusted secretary is having an office romance with one of my junior finance employees” the smile that hung on Jaemin’s lips did not reach his eyes. 

Your eyes widened “office romance? No no you’ve misunderstood. He just asked me to the gala last week, that's all. I have no idea what the letter is and I- wait. You opened it?” 

The smile faded as he processed your words. Oh Jaemin would not have his secretary on the arm of anyone other than him, and he would make sure of that. Despite the other women around the office, who Jaemin had been making his way through, you managed to get under his skin in all the right ways.

“Sorry, I thought you knew” He started, propping his head up on his hands “secretaries are required to escort their managers to the gala. Mark’s rules” Jaemin grinned lazily.

“Oh! So I’ll still be working, right?” you thought about all the extra things you would need to prepare in this case, starting with a much bigger clutch to keep all Jaemin’s business cards in.

Jaemin smirked, “That’s correct Y/n. You have to be by my side all night. Make sure you let me know the color of your dress so I can plan my tie accordingly”

You nodded, your boss’ phone began to ring echoing throughout his large office. “I’ll bring you a swatch tomorrow morning” You spoke softly as you stood to leave the room.

Jaemin only nodded in response before picking up the phone “Mark!! How goes it over in-” His sentence cut off as the door shut behind you.

“What an odd day” you pondered while sifting through the hundreds of emails in your inbox. Mark had taken the liberty to have Haechan set up all Jaemin’s emails to duplicate so you had copies of important things as well. Unfortunately this also meant you got to see all the emails that lovestruck employees sent him without knowing you could see the confessions as well. After deleting what must have been the 20th email love note, you came across a thread that caught your eye. The email was from another female employee, detailing things she and Jaemin had done the previous night. From the sounds of it, you weren’t the only one engaging in an alleged “office romance”. There were quite a few more like that email, all talking about how they loved it when Jaemin did that “thing”. You weren’t sure what the “thing” was, but from the way he had these ladies begging for him via email correspondence you couldn’t help but be curious. It didn’t help that some had described certain acts in such detail, it was only natural that your head drifted away from work causing you to think about Jaemin’s head between your-

The thought was cut short by a loud thud from the elevator. Upon inspection you could see the finance junior who asked you to the gala had dropped a box of their belongings on the floor. The security guard who was with them helped gather their belongings back into the supply box before giving them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. You thought about going over to ask what happened, but a ping from your inbox beat you to it. ‘I WAS WRONGLY FIRED BY NA JAEMIN” was the subject line, there was no body to the email. Just that one subject line that left chills down your spine. You glanced to your boss’ door then back to your computer screen, the email was sent to everyone on the finance floor. It wasn’t long before chatter began amongst your colleagues on the floor. Everyone was curious to know about their former colleague scorned, making incredibly obvious passes by the now barren desk that once housed the junior finance employee. Jaemin seemed unbothered by the office bustle, opting to send you a teams chat asking for you to accompany him out of the office for his suit fitting for the gala. 

-

The interior of the store was full of mannequins decked out in name brand clothing that had your bank account near tears. Though you were only here to keep an eye on Jaemin’s emails and schedule for the day, he kept asking for your input on the suits he chose. The swatch you had at home would have to wait for another day, though he assured you it would be no hassle to have a tie ordered into the office in the correct color. 

“Well? Does this make me seem intimidating enough?” He turned his head over his shoulder to ask you. 

There was simply no denying the fact that Jaemin WORE the clothes, they did not wear him. He looked stunning in everything, so much so that you kept catching your mind slipping off to imagine the things he could do in the dressing room. Your eyes must’ve lingered for too long without speaking, as Jaemin chuffed a laugh. 

“I’m so sorry, yes it looks great!” you smile warmly at him, just as another ping comes through on his work phone. An email from Mark asking about the firing of the finance colleague and why he is now receiving multiple emails from the distressed former employee.

Jaemin cocks his head, one brow raised in question “Something the matter?”

You lock the phone quickly and look up at where he stands on the pedestal for his fitting. “Just Mark asking about an employee who was fired earlier, apparently he is now receiving emails stating that he was wrongfully terminated.” You stare, waiting for a reaction from him that never comes. 

“Ah yes, he was fraternizing with other employees. Can’t have my department become a cesspool now, can I?” His answer is cold as ice, his face revealing no indication of what he is thinking.

You can’t help but laugh at his reference, as if he hadn’t been sleeping with multiple employees from different departments. “What seems to be so funny, Y/n?” 

“Oh, nothing. Just your cesspool reference was funny” You roll your eyes, not expecting him to continue prodding. But he does just that.

“And why, pray tell, is it funny? Is my finance department a joke to you?” His eyes narrow, the shop steward who was pinning the suit even stops momentarily to give you a glance.

You need a moment to collect your thoughts. To try and decide just where you should begin with this. “You know Haechan set up my email so that I get duplicates of all the emails sent to you, right?” 

Jaemin nods thoughtfully, before his eyes widen in realization. “You get all my emails?” 

You bob your head “every single one of them. Mark insisted it was set up that way so you can never say you just missed a meeting invite in your swaths of emails.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in frustration. “Y/n, what have you been seeing?” his foot tapping against the stained wood of the pedestal.

“Just the usual. Multiple emails from Mark about meetings, Renjun sending gala updates, Haechan providing timelines for software updates, Jeno sending memes that he has made instead of marketing campaigns, Jisung sending you meeting schedules with investors for the week, Chenle sending selfies mostly.” You shrug, pleased with your answer. 

“That’s it? Nothing else?” His tone is tense and his eyes are fixed on you, gluing you to the spot on the bench.

“Finance employees sending you updated reports too. Oh! And just the casual love confession, or excruciatingly detailed emails from your lovers” You smirk at him.

“I see.” Jaemin steps down, shooing the shop steward away as he strides towards you, “and tell me, Y/n. Do you read all of those excruciatingly detailed emails?” He leans down slightly, your faces mere inches apart.

You wet your lips, noticing Jaemin’s eyes flick down to your mouth before coming back up to meet your gaze. “Yes.”

He straightens back to his full height, now towering over where you sat. “Interesting indeed” he mutters before turning back to the shop employee to continue with his fitting.

-

The next morning you had a large iced americano sitting on the edge of your desk for your boss, along with the fabric swatch. It was odd, seldom did you beat Jaemin to the office. But today you felt extra jittery, especially after how hot his eyes had felt on you yesterday during his fitting. In fact, it was a shock that you managed to get a few hours of sleep. You had tossed and turned all night, thoughts of Jaemin taking you in the dressing room after your conversation had taken your mind hostage. A few times throughout the night you had awoken in a cold sweat, finally deciding to just get up at 5am instead of trying to get a few more hours of rest. That was how you ended up at your desk at 6:30, a large cup of tea clutched in your hands as you sifted through more meeting invites and emails. 

“Good morning Y/n. You’re awfully early.” Jaemin smiled warmly, a glint of something else shone in his eyes.

You gestured lazily to the cup of coffee on the edge of your desk “That’s for you, the swatch too”

His smile dropped as he stared at the coffee and the swatch “your dress is red?”

“Yes” you nodded before adding “I hope that’s alright”

“That will be just fine, I just so happen to have a tie that I think is the same color.” Jaemin fixed a tight smile before heading into his office and closing the door.

A few hours later a gorgeous intern from accounting came by, stopping at your desk “I have an appointment with Mr. Na” She smiled.

“Sure, just a moment” you returned her smile while getting up to knock on your boss’ door. 

“Send her in.” Jaemin said through the thick oak door before you could even let him know his one o’clock was here. 

-

She left an hour later, hair messier than it was when she arrived and her stockings had noticeable runs down both legs. All you could do was cock a brow as she breezed past with her blush stained cheeks. ‘I’m sure I’ll get an email about that later’ you thought, mentally rolling your eyes. Moments later your boss appeared at his door, fixing his tie nonchalantly. 

“Y/n, take the rest of the day off before the gala tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight, alright?” His voice was cold and detached, much like it had been at the store.

“Sure, thank you. I will see you then” It was no use putting up a fight. And it was certainly no use to ask him what had been on the tip of your tongue since yesterday. All you wanted was to know why that employee had been fired, and if their claim had any merit.

-

True to his word, Jaemin arrived at 7 on the dot. A swanky black car pulled up outside, the driver meeting you by the door for you to get in. After the door was shut you noticed Jaemin’s eyes fixated on you, suddenly the tight red dress you opted for felt all too revealing. 

He licked his lips slowly before speaking “I get the feeling there’s something you want to ask me, Y/n?”

“Why did you fire that employee that asked me out and gave me that letter?” You asked, Jaemin just stared at you in shock, clearly not expecting that to be the question.

“I- well. He had falsified a few reports so I was going to let him go anyway, but…” He trailed off, turning to look out the window instead of at you. “I thought you were going to ask about the escort from earlier” 

You nearly choked on your own breath “Escort? I thought she was from accounting!”

Jaemin hung his head in defeat “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I was never good at processing things. Instead of thinking though the issue I jumped straight to numbness, and I apologize” 

You simply could not believe your ears, you had figured that’s what was going on. But somehow it still took you by surprise. “Wait, why are you telling me all this?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“When I interviewed you for that sales role, I had such bad thoughts. I decided to tell you I needed an assistant instead. But I had one already. I fired her to give you the role. I just wanted that pretty little ass outside my office. I wanted to rub it in everyone’s faces that I had the hottest secretary. But then you got that letter, and I noticed you starting to get a little too much attention than I liked. And I didn’t expect to like you this much and-” He rambled on before stopping abruptly to look at you. 

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall “two people lost their jobs because of me?” Your voice felt raw.

“Technically only one, the other guy was getting fired for fraud anyway. It was just a coincidence. And I didn’t fire my former secretary, I relocated her to another department. That was poor phrasing on my end” Jaemin reached for your hands, you foolishly let him hold on.

This was an enormous pill to swallow. “So let me get this straight.” You squeezed Jaemin’s hands. “You removed your secretary, hired me because you think I’m hot, got jealous when I was getting attention, forced me to be your date for this gala, and then hired an escort to take out your frustrations instead of just coming clean and talking to me?”

“That’s about it, yeah” Jaemin nodded enthusiastically.

“I quit.” You pulled your hands back to your lap.

Jaemin’s smile fell, his eyes showing the panic he was feeling. “No, no you can’t quit. Who’s going to read my emails to me and copy down all the meeting notes that I don’t feel like doing?”

You shrugged “I’m not sure, Jaemin. I just know it won’t be me.” 

The timing was lovely as the car had pulled up to the venue, the driver was already opening the door to help you out. Jaemin clutched your hand desperately. “Please, Y/n. Please just give me the night to make things right.”

You brushed him off “I will accompany you tonight, but tomorrow morning I will be packing my things. I’m sorry”

Jaemin led the way into the gala, his shoulders slumped in defeat. To anyone else, you were sure he looked angry, but you knew the truth. The first hour of the gala was spent greeting fellow colleagues and investors. You stopped to chat with Renjun, praising him for how incredible the party turned out, to which he agreed with a small smile and flushed cheeks. 

“He’s into the party planner he hired” Jaemin leaned down to whisper in your ear.

The sudden closeness took you by surprise, but you couldn’t help but slightly lean back into his chest. The countless champagne flutes did not help the situation, no matter how much you wanted to not be around Jaemin right now, your other desires had taken over. Jaemin’s hand was placed firmly on your hip, holding you in place. 

“I think it’s time we get you home sweetheart” He spoke softly, looking around to find the nearest exit.

You could only nod, agreeing that it was in fact time to head home. Jaemin kept his grip on your hip as he escorted you through the crowds of people, stopping only once to whisper something to Mark before continuing to the exit. Just as it had been when you arrived, Jaemin’s car and driver were stationed out front. The car door was already open for you two to get in, he helped you into the car and you slumped against him.

-

Sun had streamed in through the large windows of your bedroom bright and early. You cursed yourself for not remembering to shut the curtains before getting into bed last night. Wait, you didn’t have curtains, or the luxurious silk bedding, or a king sized bed. Realization hit you, Jaemin must’ve taken you home. But when you looked over to the other side of the bed you found it still untouched. You were thankfully still in your dress from last night.

After gathering up some courage and taking the Advil that was conveniently left on the nightstand you took off down the hallway of the apartment. On the couch you found your boss, drinking a cup of coffee while leisurely flipping through reports.

“Good morning sleepy girl” He cooed at you.

You squinted back at him “lest you not forget, I quit last night. And you upset me.”

“I recall. I also recall you chirping at me in the car that you wanted me to bring you here and ‘do the things from the emails’ to you” He chuckled, blush crept across your cheeks. 

“I am very sorry. I will head out now.” You started towards the door.

“Y/n. Wait.” Jaemin rose from his place on the sofa, his long strides reaching you quickly. “Now that it’s not a conflict of interest, I was wondering if you would allow me to take you on a date?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “A date? Jaemin, you only hired me because you thought I was hot! I’m so pissed off at you! I thought I had merit, I thought I was good at my job!” You were stopped short by Jaemin’s lips on yours.

The kiss seemed to have surprised you both. Both of you stood in shock, just staring at each other. 

“You are” His voice was soft.

“I am what?” Your brows furrowed.

“Good at your job. Mark requested we send you off to another department that needs a manager. I said no, because I need you to keep me organized. I have never made it to so many meetings!” He grinned at you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Could I move to a different department to be a manager?” Your head tilted in question.

Jaemin breathed a sigh of relief “Yes, you absolutely can. I can always bring back my old secretary in your place”

“Then I will.” You beamed happily.

“You will what? Move departments?” Jaemin’s hands squeezed your shoulders in anticipation.

“Well yes obviously.” you rolled your eyes. “But also, I’ll let you take me out.”

Jaemin pulled you into another kiss, this one much less abrupt than the last. His lips were soft against yours, and his hands worked their way down your body. Your fingers combed through his hair, stopping occasionally to tug slightly. 

“Oh we have to stop. I still think about your first day when you had to change in my office.” He confessed.

You smirked at him, “That’s alright. I think about it too.”

“I’ll have the driver take you home and I’ll pick you up tonight. Wear something red again. It looks stunning on you.” He kissed you one last time before sending you off.

-

The next week was a do over of your first day, but this time as a manager for partner relations. But instead of taking an Uber, you arrived with the CFO in his personal car. 

“I’ll see you after work sweetheart. Let me know if I need to fire anyone for you” Jaemin winked before placing a kiss on your lips before exiting the elevator onto the finance floor. 

“Ugh, you are so lucky” another employee in the office wined before exiting at the next stop.

The doors closed, leaving you alone in the elevator. The biggest grin plastered across your face as you thought aloud “Yeah, I am pretty lucky, aren’t I?”

#nct dream #nct #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #nct fanfic #nct jaemin #jaemin #jaemin angst

[cultrise]

DRUNK SEX. DAZAI OSAMU

✮ CONTENTS NSFW, drunk sex (consensual), fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, dazai lowkey being in love ᵎᵎ wc 2.3k

ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !

dazai wasn’t one to get drunk. that role was usually reserved for his ex-partner of the port mafia, nakahara chuuya, who, to dazai’s enjoyment, was pretty lightweight and even more hilarious while drunk.

however, dazai had a bad day that day. which arguably would be every day, considering his past, the trauma he was suppressing and the thoughts haunting his mind. though, usually, he could drown the noise by talking to his fellow peers at the agency or annoying his now-partner, kunikida. 

this day, however, had been especially hard. no matter what the situation in front of him was his thoughts ran back to his mafia days, or even further, to his early times, which were mostly a blur. he had been known all his life for being so clear about his plans, his ideas, his beliefs.. having such a foggy brain was uncharacteristic of him. and, to drown it all he took advantage of the little party the ADA was throwing that night to quieten the noise.

the members of the agency were celebrating a tough case that they had cracked, each of them laughing, joking and drinking to their heart's content. none had noticed dazai behaving oddly because of their excitement and the man took the chance to sit in a corner, left hand buried in his pocket as the other dragged glass after glass to his lips. he was pretty thankful he went by so unnoticed, especially with how tipsy they had all gotten. or at least, that's what he was thinking before you took notice of him.

you had been in the agency for a little longer than atsushi, usually assisting ranpo in investigations — even if you were never really needed — or running errands with yosano. you hadn't been as familiar with dazai before, other than taking into account the fact that he was exceptionally handsome and just as much of a pain in the ass. that all, however, changed when you switched desks along with atsushi's arrival, ending up right in front of dazai's desk.

he couldn't act like he hadn't noticed you before. he always made sure to make a mental note of certain behavioural patterns you had and was trying his best to read your character from afar, which wasn't a hard task for him. and since you were now his "desk mate", as he called you, he could pursue his interest further. interest turned into conversations, conversations turned into flirting and flirting into small touches and prolonged stares. now, dazai was unable to go a day without seeing you, which was fucking with his brain hard.

and, what surprised him most of all about you was the ability to read him like an open book, something nobody, maybe other than odasaku, had been able to do. "what's up with you?" you ask, sitting next to him and watching atsushi catch a glass that was about to fall from a table. dazai's tired eyes looked at his drink, wrist circling as the ice cubes clinked against each other.

"nothing. just enjoying a nice glass of whiskey" his response is shallow, making you smile.

you fully turn your attention to him "bullshit. it's your seventh glass"

dazai meets your stare, the atmosphere shift making his eye corners wrinkle up into a sly eye-smile "are you keeping tabs on me? how bold of you to admit that."

you chuckle, bringing your glass to your lips "you're my coworker, dazai. of course i am" he scoffs at your reply. coworker. what a bad joke. the amount of times you were both about to jump on each other and getting interrupted reached a funny number.

"right..." he trails off, looking back at the rest of the agency.

"you still haven't answered my question" you turn to face him so he can't look away.

"should i? how are you so sure i'm not okay?" his brown orbs stare down at you, making your body heat up.

"it's in your eyes. it's in your behaviour. you're not as mysterious as you think, mr. former port mafia executive" his lips curl up into a smile, eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

"aren't you an expert?" you put the glass between your lips again, eyes not leaving his

"i intend to be."

dazai's taken aback by the shift in demeanour "that so?" he bends down slightly, eyes leveling yours "careful what you wish for. i might give in.”

the bottom of your glass hits the counter next to you "nobody is stopping you" and he knows you're right. he knows everyone is too busy to care if you two made a sudden and well-calculated disappearance into his bedroom. his sight was fogging up, head dizzy with need. the alcohol was definitely kicking in.

chugging down the last of his drink was enough for him to grab your wrist, drag you into the hallway and hurry down to his door.

the sounds of drunk people, loud music and chatty voices were drowned by the sudden bang of the door closing behind you. your hands trailed up and down dazai's body, fists grabbing at his hair and clothes as he held onto your hips, pushing you to the bed. his breath was hot, uneven and he reeked of alcohol. but his mind and intentions were clear from the moment he had first talked to you. never had he wanted someone more than he did you and the thought was just another nuisance occupying his tired brain. but he was about to take care of it, about to take matters into his own hands and claim what was his.

you yelped as your back hit the mattress, dazai's hands fiddling with the zipper of your dress. you broke the kiss, chest heaving "are you sure you want to do this?" he stared back at you, ceasing any movement.

"of course i am.. are you?" your hand caressed his cheek, making dazai shiver all over.

"i am.. but are you sure this is okay? right now? i meant it when i asked you if you're okay" his eyes trail down to your lips as his forehead meets yours.

"i'm sure. may i?" you nod as he leans in, kissing you softly as your breaths sync. your face feels hot all over as he parts away.

"i want to fuck you so good tonight i forget all my worries" dazai whispers, making your hairs stand up on end.

"how could i refuse?" you respond, making his eyes twinkle in the dark. moonlight shines through the window as you both hastily help the other to undress, two figures stuck together as if glued. the dark-haired man on top of you groans as he takes off your dress, taking a step back to take in the view.

"matching set? fuck..." you smile.

"i'd much rather have it off, you know?" dazai smirks, bending down to meet your knees. he caresses the smooth skin of your calf with his fingers, making you bite your lip in anticipation. propping one of your legs up, he gently undoes the strap of your heels and looks up at you. he wants to tell you how beautiful you look in the moonlight, how stunning your features are thanks to it, but he doesn't.

he's afraid the alcohol might turn his words into something else, so, with a hazy mind he decides the best way to show you what he thinks is by acting upon it, lips starting to press gentle kisses to your leg: your ankle, your knee, your inner thigh...

your breath gets caught in your throat as he kisses you right above the hem of your laced panties, left hand slowly unclasping and taking off your other heel. his fingers grip the sides of your panties and, watching you closely, slips them off, throwing them on the ground. his dick twitches in his boxers at the sight in front of him, cunt openly displayed in front of him, sopping and inviting.

"shit.. can i taste you?" he asks, making you nod.

"stop asking, just do it" he smiles as your previous demeanour drops, being replaced with sheer desperation.

"just making sure" and he licks a long strip across your clit, making your back arch with a whine.

soon enough his long fingers find their way inside of you, your gummy walls squeezing around them as he sucks on your puffy clit "shit...dazai!" you whine as he curls his fingers up, a chuckle vibrating into your cunt.

"call me by my name, belladonna. want to hear it from those sweet lips" his digit brushes over your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion as he watches you with keen eyes.

you bite your lip, cheeks red from the request "osamu.." and he raises himself, taking your lips on his as he works his fingers into your pussy.

"again" he commands.

"osamu" and he kisses you again, needier, more passionate than before.

"again"

"osamu"

"again"

"f..fuck...osamu"

"again"

"mhm.. 'samu"

dazai's whole sense of control gets thrown out the window as his lips make their way down your neck, breasts and abdomen as he kisses, bites and licks a whole mantra of indiscernible words into your skin. he curses at himself for not being able to do this sooner, for being so stupid as to let you wait for so long.. for making himself wait so much. and as you reach your high, screaming his name as you cum over his fingers, dazai's vision blurs completely. 

he moves his hand away from your thighs, sucking on his fingers in the most erotic way possible before taking down his boxers in a hurry "you're not good for me.. at all" he groans as he aligns his dick to your entrance.

you prop yourself up on your elbows, reaching for his face "i disagree. i think i'm perfect for you" and he smiles in approval, tasting your lips again. curse those glasses of alcohol. since when did dazai osamu need liquid courage to get a lady into his bed? his heart was beating against his chest madly as the response came to him. you weren't just anyone. this time, he had it bad. this time, there was no escaping this. and he wanted to be selfish.

he entered you slowly, groaning at the way his length was getting coated bit by bit with your slick. you whined as you took in half of him, arms wrapping around his neck. dazai slowly breathes onto your neck, body pressed against yours "we'll make it fit" and he moves slowly, hands caressing your body as you take him. when he finally goes in fully you both take a second to breathe, a choked moan hitting your ear.

"s..see? told you... fuck, you feel way too good" and soon enough his hips are rolling into yours as he buries himself balls deep into your cunt, nails creating crescent marks into his back and shoulders.

dazai fucks you needily, selfishly, obsessively... he talks to you sweetly, he rambles, he stops in the middle of his sentences because he can't think properly. he lets himself get drowned in your moans, in your body heat, into the smell of your hair. he wants to mark you, have you, tie you to him. his whole body tenses with each touch, each whisper of his name. and he's so sure he's fucked. 

"f..uck, bella... who's making you feel this good, huh?" you whine his name into his ear.

"you.. you are.. 'samu.. shit! right there!" he keeps his hips steady as he kisses down your neck.

"yeah? there? fu..fuck.. yeah, there" and he snaps his hips again, the lewd sound of skin claps hitting the room's white walls. he doesn't even care if anybody hears, let them. he's so drunk in the feeling of you he might as well call himself an alcoholic. and that's exactly what he blurts out to you, too fucked out of his mind to keep his mouth shut.

you giggle at his words, cheek pressed against his shoulder "how sappy of you. didn't picture you as the cheesy type" and he looks at you with the most lovesick smile a man could wear, his bangs getting caught into his eyelashes.

"so? don't like cheesiness?" you chuckle again, pressing your lips to his.

"i like you, that's enough" and he laughs back, cheeks pink. he thinks of himself as so stupid. so pathetic. how could he think he's entitled to love and cherish someone like you? would he even do it right?

but in that moment his head gets cleared of any worry, any negative thoughts and he thanks the alcohol for that.. wait, no.. not the alcohol. he knows it's you who's blocking out those thoughts. dazai can't help but bury his head in the crook of your neck as his pelvis hits yours in another messy stroke. you grab onto his hair as his tip hits your cervix, completely oblivious to his racing thoughts and all-over-the-place emotions.

his body tenses up, heat travelling under his skin as he mutters up some curses under his breath. and as your walls clench around his aching cock he finds himself cumming loads inside of you, moaning loudly as he does.

you're soon spent out under the covers of his bed, trying so hard to keep your eyes open. his legs tangle with yours, your head placed onto his arm as he keeps you glued to his chest "i really shouldn't have drank so much so quickly" dazai chuckles and groans as you join in.

"what, you think you'll regret this tomorrow?" his eyelids threaten to close anytime soon. his digits caress your lower back as he juts his lips out and slowly shakes his head.

"the only thing i'll regret is the massive hangover i'm about to have" you laugh at him again, placing a gentle kiss on his adam's apple as his eyes close.

"but not this... never this" he whispers as he drifts off to sleep.

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

#✦— kinktober. #𐙚 — pages. #𐙚— dreamscape. #dazai #dazai x reader smut #dazai osamu #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai smut #bsd dazai #dazai osamu x reader #kinktober #kinktober '23 #kinktober 2023

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Fallingforyou

Imagine

Luke Hughes x Latina!reader

synop: a few moments where y/n mistakes Luke's kindness for being best friends, but they mean something more, it always does.

a/n: besties to lovies, the notebook is mentioned ofc, my work feels rusty but hopefully u enjoy ;)

cw: reader gets black eye in non-violent type of way, one cuss word I think, joke about being mugged, drinking, sweetie pie & Lu pet names hehe

You were one of the very few to see Luke Hughes. The turtle under the shell. It took time to see the real him but quickly over time he peaked out every now and then. He didn’t know why but he felt a different kind of my comfort around you. A comfort where you knew wouldn’t judge him. Maybe as a joke you would tease him but both of you knew you didn’t mean any harm. So he let walls come down to a complete stranger. A stranger he had just met, a stranger that he would fall in love with over and over again.

“You need to be more careful."

It was any other game day that you could attend. Wearing his number after you persuaded for him to buy for you. “Who else am I going to represent? Certainly not Jack…no offense.” you joked years earlier when you first started to cheer for him in person. He was surprised to hear you to bring up the idea but quickly got you your jersey the next day.

It was any other game day besides the slowly bruising black eye your friend gave you hours earlier. It was childish really, you two were messing around and dared each other to wrestle on the living room floor, and one maneuver led to your left eye hitting the couch’s arm rest. It hurt like a bitch on impact and the stinging after but the ice your friend placed on your face helped.

You knew Luke would say something so you showed up to the arena with sunglasses, taking them off to see the game clearly but putting them back on to see him after.

“Nice assist Lu,” you hugged him after he changed

“Thanks, what’s up with the shades?” he laughs poking at your glasses

“I thought they looked good with my outfit, what do you think?” You knew you weren’t fooling Luke, you were wearing jeans and his jersey, the basic outfit didn’t really need the sunglasses.

“How could have you seen my assist if you were wearing sunglasses?” His brows raise waiting for your response

You were about to come up with another excuse before Jack runs by snatching said glasses off your eyes, “Nice shades!” He yells as he jogs away, revealing your reddish purple turning bruise right under your eye.

“What the hell happened!?” Luke asks as he steps forward to get a better look, gently turning your head into better light.

“Nothing really, I was messing around and hit my eye on my couch. Don’t touch it.”

“Did you put ice on it?” He asks

“Of course I did Luke. Looks crazy though right?” You were kind of proud to have such an injury, it would heal eventually so why not be proud of it.

But Luke was not on the same wavelength, “Here. We gotta put ice on it." he grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the team's med room

"Luke I have ice at home."

"Just come."

The doc checked your shiner out by Luke's request and to no ones surprise, you were fine. He gave you an ice pack and Luke interrogated you on the way out,

"So what actually happened? You didn't just fall into your soft couch and get a black eye... No one hit you right?" you saw how his eyes slightly squinted

"I got mugged for my phone." you deadpanned. His eyes widened and his fists clenched, "But they clearly didn't win." you waved your phone in front of you with a big grin on your face.

"Thats not funny y/n." his features finally softened

You sucked in your smile into a flat one, "Sorry, me and y/f/n were wrestling and it ended with my face into the couch's hard arm rest and boom." you clapped for dramatics.

"You and y/f/n need to be more careful." he whispered in a stern voice making you smile of how many times Luke has said to be careful. Too many times than he would like that's for sure.

“Yes I can imagine.”

One of the many things Luke had to put up with to be your friend were the late night calls. You always watched your shows and movies at night. Sometimes with him but other nights when he was at his own place, you would call him to rant and give your movie review. This night you couldn't decide on a new movie to watch so you rewatched The Notebook for the nth time and it left you hollow like always.

You dialed Luke’s number mid sob after you finished the movie,

"Y/n what's wrong?" his voice was filled with concern as he heard your cries.

"Luke, you have to watch the notebook." you choke out, mindlessly staring at the rolling credits.

He paused in silence, "I already have y/n, I saw it with you, twice." he emphasized the word twice.

"Then you have to see it a third because it's just too good," you hiccup a sob before you started, "I mean- can you just imagine the love of your life writing you a letter everyday for a whole year and not knowing they existed!? god! it's heart wrenching. Noah Calhoun is the standard." Luke heard the same statement you have made many times before and with the same strong conviction. The change in tone in seriousness had him smiling on the other line holding in a laugh.

"Are you imagining?" you demanded after some silence,

"Yes I can imagine." he said in that sweet voice of his. He did imagine a love like Noah and Allie had. He would write a letter everyday to the love of his life if he knew for sure it wouldn't scare her away. He continued to hear your rambles he had heard before because it's the closest thing he can have insight on your views on love.

“I wish we met when we were kids.”

You were having a very small party for your birthday. You had the night off and wanted a quick but memorable celebration so you and close friends had dinner and a birthday cake in your cozy dinning room. You had help from your friends and Luke to decorate the place and it turned out better than imagined.

After dessert, and recreational drinking, gifts were handed out and it was Luke's turn. The one person you were excited the most to receive. He had gifted you a vinyl record of your favorite album,

"Thanks Lu but I don't have a record player" you laughed nervously

"That's why he bought you one too." Jack who had also been invited, carried a medium sized wrapped box that sounded heavy as he placed it in front of you.

"Dude she was supposed to unwrap it." Luke nagged at his brother spoiling his gift

"Oops, I thought it was obvious he would buy you both." he just shrugged his shoulders.

"I love it. Luke, you sweetie pie, thanks." Luke blushed as you called him his favorite nickname you gave him years ago. You hugged him before unwrapping the second gift. Behind your back Jack gave his little brother a wink.

The rest of the night consisted with setting up the record player and playing the album, playing board games, and more drinking than you should have if you wanted to remember the night. It was a bit too late when Luke had cut you off but the night was ending when people were leaving.

He was half-carrying you to bed when you drunkenly admitted, "You’re a good friend Luke, any girl would be lucky to have you that’s for sure.”

“Thanks,” he whispered as he helped you tuck into bed

“Can you stay with me? At least until I fall I asleep? I always feel lonely when I sleep alone, especially on my birthday.” you asked without any embarrassment.

“Of course.” He kicked off his shoes and got comfortable next to you. It wasn’t uncommon to be so close to one another but Luke always felt his heart race.

You were already under your covers, “Shouldn’t I change into my pjs?”

“You already did y/n.” Luke noted that you were very intoxicated and you wouldn’t remember the next moments.

“Oh crap, when did that happen!” Alcohol also made you delirious.

“An hour before people started to leave, you said you wanted to be comfortable, so now you're wearing your grinch pj pants."

You caressed the soft material, "I love my fuzzy grinch pants." "Hey don't you have a pair too?" you asked Luke from a lingering memory

"Yeah, we have a matching pair," he confirmed

"Because of last christmas... gosh that was a fun break, remember the snowball fight we had! we stayed out so long that your mom forced us to stay inside for the rest of the weekend."

“I remember. That was my favorite christmas.” He admitted,

“That was my first Christmas with all of you guys.” you realized out loud with some clarity.

Luke cleared his throat as he pulled out a small box from his pocket, “I have one more gift for you.”

“Wow. Three gifts. I must be important or something.” you joked as you took the box from his hands,

“You have no idea.” He whispered to himself but you were too preoccupied with untying the box to hear.

You opened the box to find a dainty gold swan necklace. Intoxicated or not you knew what the swan symbolized.

“Is this- what is this?” you asked in disbelief

“You know.” he stated softly

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” You recited the line that always brought you to tears as you traced the minuscule details.

He watched how your tired eyes blinked slowly, “You can wear it in the morning.” He took the box and reached over to put it on your nightstand.

“Thanks Lu. You are way too kind. Scares me sometimes.” you snuggled into his side as a hug

"I wish we met when we were kids," you said.

“Why?” his arms found themselves around you caressing your arms.

“Because I would have spent more time with you. Having the title of growing up with Luke Hughes.”

“You wouldn’t have liked me then.” he said flatly

“I don’t believe that. Some friends of mine weren’t that great but you,” you point into his chest, “you are a true friend everyone should have at least once.”

“I was annoying as a kid.” he tried to deflect your words but it didn’t help.

“All kids are annoying. But you were probably the same sweet shy kid and I would have loved you for it like I do now.”

Luke had wondered the same, if, you two grew up together. Would things be different? Seeing and knowing you for longer than a few years. Luke didn't have to think too much before realizing he would have fallen for you inevitably.

You had cuddled closer to his torso if possible and started to close to your sleepy eyes.

“You should sleep,” he says

“Goodnight Lu”

“Night” he whispered softly

Once you fell asleep, he stayed in your bed a little bit longer. He thought of the nice words you said about him and thought of the possibility of you liking him back. He imagined at least 1% could have been possible. All he knew for sure, all that was admitted and shared that night would be forgotten on your part. He eventually left your place after leaving pills and water next to the gold necklace.

“I fell for you, hard.”

You woke up the next morning, almost afternoon, gulping the pills and water immediately. You noticed the dainty necklace and smile. You don’t remember exactly how you got it but you knew who gave it to you. You wore the necklace for the rest of days ahead.

A few days after your birthday you and Luke had plans to take a night ferry ride to see the city from the water. Another, belated, gift from Luke since you mentioned the idea a long time ago that you don’t remember bringing up.

You two ate dinner at your favorite spot and then headed out to the port.

“And I thought this was my last gift,” you fidgeted with the jewelry over your sweater.

He smiles at your recognition, “You never know, I might have another one after this one.”

“No more gifts please. I can’t compete when it’s your birthday.” you two shared a laugh as the ferry cruised by the city lights.

“As embarrassing it is, I don’t remember you gifting me this.” You motioned to your neck,

“I knew you wouldn’t remember. You were pretty gone by the end of the night.”

“Yeah I’m starting to regret that.” You leaned against the railing staring at the city

“How did you it was me who gifted you it?” He asked following your movements but not staring at the city view.

“Who else knows about my notebook obsession better than you?” You turned to face him, looking up at him even though he leaned down for you.

“Y/n.” his face drops into a serious one

“Luke.” you mimic his tone but with a smile

He breaks into a smile and laughs towards the water.

“You make me go crazy.” he says through a smile still looking ahead

“I didn’t do anything.” you laugh along at his demeanor

“Exactly.” his voice drops again

“I don’t get it.” you chuckle again but with uneasiness

“The night of your birthday. You said you would have loved younger me like you do now if we met then. What did you mean by that?” he turned to you this time.

“I said that?”

“Yes you did.”

“I guess I mean I would love you then like I love you now. You just said it yourself.” you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion leaving Luke frustrated.

“But what does that mean? When you say you love me now.”

“You don’t know what love means Lu? C’mon now.” you were deflecting in humor

“I know what love means. I want to know if we’re talking about the same type of love.”

“What type of love are you talking about then?” you asked in the same tone he had been using.

“The one where I gift you a necklace from your favorite movie. The one where I take the girl I’ve been in love with for years to see the city lights. The one where I would write you a letter everyday for a year.” he talked so fast it surprised you.

“You would write me a letter everyday?” is all you could get out.

“In a heartbeat. But I wouldn’t want it to come down to that because in the movie they breakup and that’s when Noah starts writing—“

He rambled off his reason but he was cut off when you pulled him in for a slow and soft kiss that quickly turned passionate. A loud a boat horn interrupts the moment and pulls you both away.

“Why didn’t I see this coming at all?” you asked yourself in his presence

“I don’t know. I thought I made it pretty obvious.” His comment would have made you laugh but you were still digesting that you kissed your best friend.

“I always thought that was you being you. The sweet Lu you always are.”

“I think you’re the only person who has ever seen that ‘sweet Lu’. You’re the only one who calls me sweetie pie.” he laughs as he rubs his neck.

“I mean that why I fell for you. How couldn’t I?”

“Right after we first met, I knew I was falling for you and falling hard.”

“I wish this happened sooner.” you said with teary smile.

He pulled you in and cradled your face, “I’m glad it happened at all.”

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl imagine #latina!reader #jells🪼imagines #luke hughes x y/n

[sydnikov]

Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

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Add yourself to my 18- (SFW) Taglist here!

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#sebastian aho #sebastian aho imagine #sebastian aho fic #sebastian aho imagines #sebastian aho fanfiction #sebastian aho x reader #carolina hurricanes #carolina hurricanes imagine #carolina hurricanes imagines #canes #canes imagine #canes lb #nhl hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl writing #writing #fanfiction #nhl smut #sebastian aho smut #'carry me home'

[jymwahuwu]

I'm SO ADDICTED to your yan!jing yuan fic, And I was wondering if u can write more. Maybe like he come back from work(idk) and unexpectedly he bought her fav dessert, but little did she know he put a little special 'icing' on the dessert (+along w/sleep dru#) but she refused to eat Infront of him and screaming asking to go away. And he did surprisingly, but then she eat the desser because no way in hell she can resist those.At the night she fell asleep, he takes the opportunity to broke into her house and fck her lmao 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🕴🏻

sorry if this made u feel uncomfortable :(

CW: yandere, non-con, somnophilia, sleeping pills, mating press

Don't worry, you didn't make me uncomfortable! I can totally see Jing Yuan taking advantage of this! He knows what your favorite dessert is and has checked which dessert shop in the entire galaxy has the highest rating for this dessert ☺️😚 He ordered his assistant to buy this dessert, and he brought the dessert to meet you after work.

You've grown numb to finding the general standing at your door. Once, you tried to ignore him, but the door lock was smashed. You insist on not opening the door, "What are you doing here?" On the electronic monitor screen, Jing Yuan is waving the dessert box in his hand, explaining that he just wants to give you dessert. After getting your rejection, Jing Yuan sighed regretfully. He pointed out that this dessert brand has the highest score in the galaxy, and customers usually need to make an appointment, which is rare and precious. You really don't want it? Isn't it such a pity? It's hard not to be tempted by these rhetoric.

"Then- then you put it in front of the door, I don't want to taste it in front of you." You replied in a low voice.

Unexpectedly, Jing Yuan agreed and did not break into your home as usual. He nodded, put the dessert box on the ground, and left. In the eyes of the General, you act like a vigilant stray cat, waiting carefully for the humans to leave before swallowing the food left behind.

After waiting for ten minutes, you quietly opened the door, picked up the dessert and put it on the table. You open the box, terrified of what a trap it might be, and what you get instead is fragrant that fills your living room. That is a delicate dessert with decorations on it… Um, it seems that there is still a little icing? As you savor, that heavenly sweetness melts on your tongue.

The night is… poured serenity - A wave of drowsiness washes over you… your eyelids can't support the weight, and aimless thoughts beckon you to the soft bed.

"Hey baby, are you asleep?"

Tall shadows loom over you in dim light. There is no response, your chest rises and falls peacefully with your breath. "Today we can have some new fun. It's okay, I'll be gentle." Jing Yuan removed your quilt, and put his palms into your panties, pulled them up to your ankles, and placed them next to your bed. Depending on the type of pajamas you're wearing, the general unbuttons your pajamas, or adjusts your posture slightly, strips you of all your clothes, and leaves you naked on the bed. Without the protection and cover of quilts and clothes, the body appears fragile and can be manipulated. He admires you in awe and snaps some pictures, leaning down to massage your areolas and rubbing and attacking your breasts. His lips and tongue kiss and adore your chest, muttering about how the body you have was wasted. No one can treat you like him.

Jing Yuan checks your private parts and finds that it is already covered with crystal liquid, glistening and waiting for attention. "ah…um…m…" you whimpered so faintly that few could be heard in sleep. He grinned and knew you were aroused. He prides himself on all the sweet reactions he brings to you. His thumb is stroking your clit as he pushes the head of his cock into your needy, tight wall. Every inch his cock advances, the faster he circles your little pearl, until your waist bounces and your inner walls tighten to cum on his cock. This is not the end but just the beginning. Jing Yuan slaps slowly in your twitching, orgasmed walls, with loud liquid churning. Under the influence of the drug, your eyes move restlessly under the eyelids. Determined to go one step further, he holds your face and kisses you affectionately, and lifts your legs up and presses them against your chest, pressing his fat, wet cock into your deepest part, squirting thick seeds.

Jing Yuan doesn't mind you knowing this. Lovers don't hide secrets. He yawned, took you into his strong arms, and fell asleep together. As the morning light shines into your house, you wake up, naked and sore with a startling realization of what he's done to you. "You- why are you here…!! "

He rubbed his eyes and greeted. "Wake up? Baby. Morning."

#yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan x reader #yandere hsr #yandere jing yuan #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

~Look into my eyes (for DxTA obviously!)

Send “Look into my eyes” & My Muse will BOLD What They See!

I see:

Absolute Conviction  |  Aggression  |  Ambition  |  Anger  |  Anxiety  |  Apathy  |  Arrogance  |  Bloodthirst  |  Bravery  |  Compassion  |  Confidence  |  Conflict  | Courage  |  Darkness  |  Defeat |  Denial  |  Desire  |  Despair  |  Determination  |  Devotion  |  Disappointment  |  Distrust  |  Dominance  |  Emptiness  |  an Enemy  |  Enlightenment  |  Envy  |  Excitement  |  Exhaustion  |  Elitism  |  Experience  |  Fear  |  a Friend  |  a Future  |  Gentleness  |  Greed  |  Grief  |  Guilt  |  Honesty  |  Honor  |  Hope  |  Hostility  |  Ignorance  |  an Illness  |  Insecurity  |  Integrity  |  Intoxication  |  Kindness  |  Lies  |  Loneliness  |  Longing  |  Loss  |  a Lover  |  Loyalty  |  Malicious Intent  |  Mania  |  Melancholy  |  Misery  |  Negativity  |  Overcompensation  |  Pain  |  Paranoia  |  Passion  |  Perseverance  |  Pettiness  |  Pity  |  Positivity  |  Pressure  |  Pride  |  a Purpose  |  Racism  |  Regret  |  Resentment  |  Resignation  |  Resolve  |  Sadness  |  Self-Hatred  |  Sexism  |  Shattered Remains  |  a Shining Light  |  Something Familiar  |  Spite  |  Stress  |  Stupidity  |  Submission  |  Tranquility  |  Trauma  |  Trust  |  Vengeance  |  Warmth  |  Wisdom  |  Wrath  |  a Cry for Help  |  Something Eating Your Mind  |  the Years have Changed You

You’re:

Animalistic  |  Approachable  |  Broken  |  Closed-Off  |  Cold  |  Crafty  |  Crazy  |  Defensive  |  Devious  |  Difficult  |  Disheartened  |  Emotionally Detached  |  Frightened  |  Frightening  |  Genuine  |  Guarded  |  Headstrong  |  Heartless  |  Human  |  Immature  |  Impatient  |  Inhuman  |  Insane  |  Intuitive  |  Lost  |  Mature  |  Noble  |  Patient  |  Pitiful  |  Primitive  |  Pure  |  Reliable  |  Remorseless  |  Reserved  |  Resourceful  |  Short-Tempered  |  Simplistic  |  Sly  |  Soft-Hearted  |  Struggling  |  a Threat  |  Trapped  |  a Troublemaker  |  Trusting  |  Understanding  |  Unique |   Unpredictable  |  Unwavering  |  a Victim  |  Wicked  |  Feeling Vindictive  |  Guilty of Something  |  Hiding Something  |  Lost in Thought  |  Planning Something  |  Scared of Me  |  Scaring Me  |  Someone I can Trust  |  Someone I Can’t Recognize Anymore  |  Someone to Fear  |  Someone Worthy of Respect  |  Weak to Manipulation  |  Weighed by Something

You:

Aren’t Being Yourself  |  Belittle Yourself  |  Don’t Want to Hurt Me  |  Don’t Want to Leave Me  |  Drown Yourself in Something  |  Feel Alone  |  Feel Empowered  |  Have a Plan that Involves Me  |  Have No One Else to Turn to  |  Have Nowhere Else to Go  |  Have Seen Some Things  |  Haven’t Been Sleeping  |  Lie to Yourself  |  Lost Faith/Trust in Me  |  Lost Something/Someone Important  |  Need Me/my Help  |  No Longer Believe Me  |  See Me as a Thing  |  See Me as Someone Else  |  Seek to Hurt/Harm  |  Seek to Manipulate  |  Think Highly of Yourself  |  Think I’m Hiding Something  |  Think Little of Yourself  |  Think You Know Best  |  Want to Hurt Me  |  Want to Protect Me  |  Want to Sleep with Me  |  Want to Use Me

#I could separate some of the verse related stuff/outcomes with italics but..nah #plus the other responses to this meme didn't have that distinction; the people who know know #I know you know where the divisions are #ahhh the possibilities...ahh the growth...;;;;;; #;;ask response: ic danny #;;ship musing: dannyxthe assistant #;;ask response: with squiggles

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (2)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 3.3K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: The response to part one was so overwhelming in all of the best ways. I'm so glad that so many people enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts for part two as well!

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

Part One

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The pain medication kept him knocked out for most of the night. He remembers waking up a few times, blinded by pain or uncomfortable in the small hospital bed, but you were there every time. You slept curled in the chair beside him, wrapped in that green sweatshirt. Once, when the pain was what jolted him awake, you woke too. You hit the button for a nurse and smoothed his hair back on his forehead, his skin sticky with sweat despite the coolness of the hospital room. 

“You’re okay,” you murmured to him, shushing him gently when he groaned again. “It’ll go away in a minute, you’re okay.” 

As the nurses came in and administered him more medication, you stayed right there beside him. Your hand was still in his hair when he fell back into a drug-induced sleep.

Still, though, when he roused to consciousness with the sun shining in through the slightly raised blinds, he wondered if it was all a fever dream and if you ever existed to begin with. He was almost afraid to open his eyes. Yesterday was the only memory he had of you. There was still nothing before that, except for how you made him feel. While confusing, there was no way that a dream could make that up. He opened his eyes slowly, and there you were. 

You were leaning back in your chair, watching the tv that was playing on mute in front of his bed. He couldn’t tell if you were reading along with the subtitles you had turned on in an effort not to wake him up or simply watching the moving images. You held what looked like a large cup of iced coffee in your hands. 

You were just as breathtaking as he remembered from yesterday. His heart did the same flip that it did when he first laid bleary eyes on you.

He didn’t get to ponder you for too long before you turned your head in his direction and noticed that he was awake. Your eyes widened a fraction and you stared at one another for a moment, and Bradley thought it would be easy to get lost in your gaze.

“Hi,” you whispered, breaking the silence. 

“Hi,” he spoke back, his voice rough, but relieved. You were real after all. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Less like I got hit by a train and more like I got hit by a truck, so I guess better.” 

“Technically, you were hit by a plane. I imagine a train is close enough though.” 

It took him a second to get the joke, but the laugh he let out felt good. Mentally, at least. Physically, it hurt his ribs. But you were making jokes with him and he’d take that over you crying again. 

“Not many people can say that, huh?”

“No,” she agreed with a shake of her head, “but you’ve always been a special one, Bradley Bradshaw.”

Blushing was an unfamiliar feeling. So unfamiliar that he didn’t realize that’s what he was doing at first, but hearing you say his full name and compliment him, because he knew that’s what you meant, made his face feel warm and his heart race. Your eyes flicked to his heart monitor, but you didn’t comment on it. 

“I asked your nurse if you could change since you might be more comfortable in your own clothes,” you said instead, motioning to a duffel bag that was set on the counter on the other side of his room that he didn’t notice before. “She said it’s fine, so I had a few things brought for you this morning. If you want.”

“That sounds great,” he said, because it did. He hated hospital gowns. He hated hospitals, period. “Any chance I can take a shower?” 

“No, I’m sorry. But um…they’re going to take you for more testing in a little bit, probably, and they said a nurse will help you clean up and change afterward.” 

You looked uncomfortable as you said the words, and he wanted to ask you why, but you pushed on before he could. 

“There should be a few pairs of sweatpants and shirts to choose from. If you don’t like anything in there I can get something else.”

“I’m sure whatever is in there will be fine,” he said softly. You were nervous, he could tell. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you nodded in response. 

There was a tension settling in the room that he didn’t quite enjoy. He supposed it was unavoidable, all things considered. Despite it, though, you remained in the seat beside his bed, almost within reach of him. Your hair was down this morning, one side tucked behind your ear to keep it out of your face. You were still wearing the Eagles sweatshirt that was too big for you. Your eyes were tired, and he wondered if you got anything more than restless fits of sleep last night.

“I’m sorry if I woke you up last night,” he started, unable to take the silence anymore. Your eyes snapped up to him. 

“It’s alright,” you insisted, sending him a small smile that had his heart fluttering again. “This chair is actually more comfortable than it looks.” 

He sincerely doubted that, but he didn’t call you out on it. You took a sip of your drink, barely putting it down before bringing it back to your lips for another. The ice rattled in the cup as it moved. 

He tried to make out what it was that you were drinking. Coffee, obviously, but he found himself curious as to what your typical order was. Were you just a cream and sugar kind of girl, or did you like flavors? Based on how long the order on the white sticker was, he guessed the latter. He couldn’t quite read what it said, but he could see the name above it. His eyebrows pulled together, causing an ache behind his eyes that he tried to push away. He remembered you saying that you had had a few things brought for him, not that you retrieved yourself, so he assumed whoever went to the home the two of you shared is who stopped and got your morning beverage, as well. For some reason, he felt a furling in his stomach. It was irrational, he knew, but the thought of another man doing these things for you, for him, made him feel something akin to jealousy. That wasn’t fair, he knew. He didn’t know your life or your family or even you. 

But he felt something for you. He didn’t exactly know what, but a connection that he’s never felt before existed between the two of you like an invisible string. It was one he found himself wanting to tug on and follow and see where it led. 

The unknown was intimidating to him, and that’s what this was. Everything about this was unknown.

“Who’s Pete?” he asked before he could stop himself. He hoped his voice didn’t come out as insecure as he felt. 

“What?” you asked, eyes widening and back straightening. He nodded toward the near empty coffee cup in your hand where the name was written above your order on the plastic. Your shoulders dropped and then tensed, which confused him even more. 

“Ah.” 

“I assume that’s who went and got my clothes? I’m sorry, I just don’t recognize the name.” He was trying, so hard, to pull something up to the front of his mind, but he couldn’t. He didn’t remember being close with anyone with that name. Maybe it was a family member of yours that he had forgotten along with you, but something told him that wasn’t the case. You wouldn’t be looking at him the way you currently are if it was a forgotten father or brother-in-law. You were eyeing him like you were uncomfortable in his presence, like you were scared of what to say to him. It was the first time he saw a look like this from you and he didn’t like it. There was something there, something about this name and him asking that unsettled you.  

A knock on the door interrupted the potential conversation, and now Bradley felt frustrated. He had so many questions and he knew the answers resided with you. One of the doctors from the previous day, Dr. Anderson, according to his coat, stepped in, offering a good morning as he scrolled on the tablet in his hand. 

“How are you feeling today, Lieutenant Commander?” 

The title was still unfamiliar to him. His gut reaction was to correct him, but the last time he did that, he found out he was missing four years of his life and an entire wife, so he refrained. 

“I’ve been better.” 

“Have you remembered anything overnight?” 

He saw you flinch out of the corner of his eye and the ice rattled in that damn coffee cup that he still had so many questions about due to your grip tightening for just a moment. 

He clenched his jaw and gave a single shake of his head. “No sir.” 

Dr. Anderson set the tablet on the foot of his bed and braced his hands against the plasti footboard, giving him the ability to look at him straight on. “That’s not uncommon,” he assured, though Bradley felt nothing of the sort. 

The white coat looked back and forth from the two of you a few times, and Bradley didn’t like the look he had in his eyes when they settled on you for a longer moment before looking back at him again. 

“It’s come to my attention that the time you're missing means you may not remember being married. Is that correct?” 

Bradley gritted his teeth, but nodded. 

“I see.” The doctor seemed to weigh his words for a moment before he spoke again. “Perhaps, Lieutenant Commander, it may be best if we speak in private?”

A flash of anger flared through him at the suggestion. You startled next to him, sucking in a breath as your eyes widened at the words. That protective instinct he had in regards to you had a glare hardening on his face. “Excuse me?” 

“Bradley…” your voice was gentle, soft, and it had him settling just a little bit, but his eyes remained on the man in front of him. 

“I mean no offense. I want to do whatever I can here to help you get on the road to recovery, but in order to properly treat you, you need to be completely honest with how you’re feeling and your injuries. Having someone who is currently a stranger to you could very well impact that. Would you be more comfortable if she wasn’t in the room with us?” 

“She is sitting right there, and no, Doctor, I would not be more comfortable if she weren’t.” 

“Lieute-” 

“She’s staying.” 

Dr. Anderson sighed, which grated on Bradley’s already fraying nerves, but nodded. He proceeded to ask him question after question, inquiring about double vision and how bad his head hurt and if he was having any trouble with the range of motion in his neck. They went over all of his injuries again and what his path to healing realistically looked like. His body should heal with no problem, but his head was trickier. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no cure for amnesia,” he was told when he asked, and he hated how nonchalant the doctor was when delivering that news. “The brain is the most complex organ in the human body. You sustained a significant amount of trauma to it that would have been considerably worse if your helmet didn’t take a brunt of the hit. Quite frankly, you’re lucky to be alive, Lieutenant Commander.” 

Bradley couldn’t fight the urge to look over at you. You were already staring back at him. You tried your best to smile at him, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He hated that he was the one who put it there. It was overwhelming how much causing you hurt,hurt him in return. 

Another knock at the door sounded and Dr. Anderson waved in the nurse standing in the doorway with a wheelchair in front of her. 

“I want to take you down for another scan to check on the swelling you had. If it’s gone down more overnight, we’ll be able to get a better view of any damage that perhaps we didn’t see before. We’ll grab some updated blood work and do a few other cognitive tests while we’re at it. Jackie will get you all squared away and wheel you down there.”

He grabbed his tablet off of the bed where he set it earlier, giving Bradley a nod that he returned. Instead of immediately turning and exiting, though, he turned to you. 

“Mrs. Bradshaw? Could I have a word outside?”

Hearing you be called Mrs. Bradshaw nearly took the breath out of him. But no, Bradley thought, he didn’t like that idea. Not with the way the doctor had looked and spoken to you a few minutes ago. But the older nurse was already speaking to him, asking questions of her own while unhooking some of the machines he was connected to. You stood up, following Dr. Anderson out of the room without a word. Bradley couldn’t do anything more than watch you leave. The door shut behind you and he immediately felt on edge.

“It’s good to see you awake, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw,” she commented, helping him slowly swing his legs off the bed after she had raised him more upright and lowered the safety bars.  She held onto his arm and waist as he transferred from the bed to the wheelchair she had placed directly beside it. His ribs ached with the motion and his vision blurred as his head pounded. It took him a moment to catch his breath and he found himself having to then breathe through a wave of nausea. 

You walked back into the room right as the nurse was unlocking the wheels of the chair. Your face was desperately trying to remain neutral. 

“What?” he asked, the concern washing over him taking him by surprise. 

“Nothing,” you insisted. But Bradley knew you were lying. Your eyes gave you away. They were so expressive that he felt like he could almost see right through you. He knew you were upset and something he didn’t understand twisted in his chest that you were trying to keep that from him. 

“I’ll get him back to you in an hour or two, dear,” Nurse Jackie smiled at you as she wheeled him out of the room. 

Bradley was so tired of being cut off when he wanted to speak with you.

“You’ve certainly been a popular patient,” Nurse Jackie informed him as they waited for the elevator. 

“Ma’am?”

“That wife of yours has barely left your room, the poor thing. I think the furthest she’s gone is the cafeteria, and that’s only when she was coerced into doing it by your friends, and even then not for long.” 

“There’s been others here?” he asked, confused. 

“Oh, of course. There’s been a carousel of visitors in this room with usually one or two more in the waiting room. The two of you don’t lack love or support, I’ll tell you that.” 

That surprised him. He racked his brain trying to figure out who she could be referring to, but came up short once again. Bradley wasn’t close to many people. Making connections with people was hard in this line of work. He wasn’t usually in one place for long enough to have something genuine, friendships or otherwise. It was a sacrifice he was always content with, made easier by the fact that he bore so many emotional scars from all the love he lost early on in his life. He was man enough to admit that.

But yet here he was, being told that he apparently had so many people he was close to that his hospital room had become a revolving door. He had a hard time believing it.

The thought stuck with him when they got on the elevator and made their way down several floors. He went through the motions of it all, doing what was asked of him and answering all the questions he could, but his mind was elsewhere, searching for something he didn’t know. 

The machines scanning his brain made him feel claustrophobic. It was unfamiliar to him because he spent his days locked in the cockpit of a single-seater jet, yet he felt like he was aware of every inch of himself as he tried to lay as still as possible. He was becoming uncomfortable in his skin and feeling things he never did before. This wasn’t him and he couldn’t make sense of it. 

By the time he was being wheeled back down the hallway to his room, three hours later, the thoughts had festered so much that they etched a tight scowl on his face. The testing should have only taken an hour at most, which irritated him further. 

It didn’t help that you were on the phone with someone when the Nurse, a different one whose name he couldn’t remember, pushed him through the door, only to quickly hang up once you spotted him. 

“How’d it go?” you asked, and the nurse was answering for him before he could even process the question.  

“Just fine, ma’am.” The response was curt. Bradley watched your face fall at the tone the nurse gave you, lacking the kindness that Nurse Jackie had when she took him away. 

“I’m going to help him get cleaned up and changed,” the nurse continued, stopping him near the bed and locking the wheels on the chair so that it wouldn’t move. 

You cleared your throat and nodded. “Right. I uh-I can get out of the way.” 

“You don’t have to go,” Bradley said, meeting your eyes for the first time since this interaction began.

“It’s okay,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you grabbed the duffle you had shown him earlier and set it on the bed. “I um..I’ll leave you to it and be back in a few minutes, okay?” 

It wasn’t okay, but he didn’t feel like he had a right to feel like that, so he nodded instead. “Alright.” 

The process of getting something akin to a sponge bath and into new clothes was painfully uncomfortable for him. The nurse didn’t say much as she helped him, only giving him direction when she needed him to move a certain way or checking in to ask about his pain level if he flinched too hard. 

That part of him that he didn’t recognize wished you had stayed and helped him instead. 

By the time he was settled back in his hospital bed, he was tired and in pain. The nurse administered him another dose of painkillers before she made her exit. 

Bradley decided he preferred Nurse Jackie from earlier in the day. 

He tried his best to relax into the bed, focusing on keeping his body still until the drugs kicked in. He rested his hands over his stomach and paused. For the first time since he had been helped into them, he looked down at what it was he was wearing. 

He knew this t-shirt. It was soft and well worn, a UVA logo faded with time. It was one he had had since college. He wondered if it was a coincidence or if you had requested this specific one, knowing he’d recognize it. The thought eased some of the frustration he felt, but it didn’t go away completely. 

Bradley didn’t like feeling helpless and out of control of himself, and that’s exactly what he was right now. 

You said you would only be gone for a few minutes and he wanted to stay awake so he could talk to you, to maybe finally get a few answers, but the exhaustion from moving around mixed with the pain medication finally kicking in had him drifting off to sleep, your face and name cycling through his mind. 

--------

Part Three :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

*Part 4 and beyond are also on the masterlist!

Notes: Don't forget to comment & reblog! It's so unbelievably motivating.

Tagging those who asked or interacted with part one. I think I caught everyone, but I'm very new to this so apologies if I missed you! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off this list :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-unerthesun - @avengersfan25

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #tgm fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x oc #Bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #alli writes #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic

[drunk-on-dk]

Girls Talk Boys | Yoon Jeonghan (m)

✦pairing: roommate!Jeonghan x afab reader

✦genre: fluff, some smut (minor DNI)

✦warnings: smut (minors DNI), unprotected sex (pls use protection pls), fingering, handjob, TEASING, use of the nickname angel, maybe a bit of rough sex, some spanking, kind of pwp with most of the plot leading into the spicy scenes.

✦wc: ~4.6k

✦summary: Jeonghan overhears what you talk about with your friends, and your constant teasing of each other becomes all too much to handle.

✦ AN: Hi all, back with another fic that I've been working on! Still probably deserves some more proofreading as usual, but I hope you all enjoy it! Girls Talk Boys by 5SOS was on repeat for this one.

Living with Yoon Jeonghan was surprisingly comfortable, you coexisted well enough due to both of you being relatively laid back. Your mutual friend, Joshua, had introduced you two about six months ago, hearing that you both were on the hunt for a roommate, and he claimed neither of you would be able to find a better roommate than each other. Joshua was correct in that assumption, as living with Jeonghan proved to be simple, relaxed, and easy enough since you were both homebodies. Still, there was some excitement in the apartment. Even though you both were soft-hearted, there was a mischievous atmosphere in your household, which kept things exciting throughout most weekdays.

Most nights in your apartment either consisted of you two enjoying each other’s presence in silence, working on your own little projects and hobbies, or spending the night sipping on cheap red-wine, playing card games, and laughing obnoxiously whenever you would somehow out-cheat the cheater himself. Some nights you’d even assist Jeonghan with his latest and absolutely, ridiculously complex Lego set. You’d refrain from complaining, not understanding how he can find joy in such a tedious project, but you knew it made him happy, so you’d help anyways when he’d ask you to organize the pieces for him.

These nights were how you got to know Jeonghan the best, observing his little quirks, getting to know what made him tick, and coming to understand he really did care too much sometimes for his own good. You would find yourself shocked at the way you’d watch Jeonghan smash the fridge door shut in anger, pitching a fit over the ice machine that has broken down for the 3rd time this week, only to then walk over to you with a smile on his face to ask what you’d like to drink. Staring back at him with bug-eyes, you’d simply mutter out that you’d like some water in response, and he’d come skipping back with a full glass for you, plopping right back down to resume working on his Lego set.

Some nights, mostly on occasions that you and Jeonghan had a long day at work, you’d spend the time together watching a movie with his head rested in your lap. You’d find yourself running your hands through his locks, ever so often flickering your attention down to him and admiring his natural beauty. Sometimes your mind would go haywire, intrusive thoughts taking over and thinking up what-if scenarios. What-if you were to lean down ever so slightly and plant a kiss on his soft lips? What-if you were to suddenly confess all the dirty thoughts that run through your mind when his t-shirt rises a bit too high when he stretches? What-if you were to confess you could see him being someone you’d like to introduce as more than a roommate to your parents? You’d have to shake yourself out of the thousands of thoughts running through your head, returning your focus on the movie playing on the screen ahead of you.

Little did you know, Jeonghan would find himself staring up at you as well with endearing, wandering eyes. He couldn’t believe Joshua had set him up with a roommate like you. You seemed so untouchable to him, better than he’d ever be, and he was thankful you had come into his life. Of course, he’d also curse Joshua for not giving him a heads-up on your appearance, shocked by your beauty the day he first met you. Still to this day he finds himself blushing when you exit the shared bathroom, bathrobe wrapped around your frame as you scurry back to your room.

Jeonghan would also find himself shuddering as your fingers would rake through his hair during movie night. Sometimes if you’d drop your hand a little bit too low towards his neck and shoulders, he’d find himself shifting from your touch, suppressing the thoughts that raced through his mind. Only if your hands would continue moving a bit lower, what would that entail?

He'd end up teasing you for it of course, as it was the only way he could escape his restless mind. “Ya! Watch your hands, your cold little fingers are slipping into my collar,” he’d scold you, playfully whacking your hand away.

However, you didn’t always pick up on his teasing. A red hue immediately colored your face as you ripped your hand away from Jeonghan’s hot skin. “I’m sorry, Hannie, got a little too into the movie, I guess,” you’d chuckle out, but really your hand did begin to wander subconsciously, tracing his soft skin, which was embarrassing even though only you knew. 

Your innocent demeanor drove him crazy sometimes, especially the way your lips would pout when you’d use his nickname. This often led to him pleasuring himself late at night after the movie, the image of you in your little sleepshirt sauntering back to your room burnt into his mind. He just wished he could march over to your room, rip that shirt right off you, and teach you a lesson for teasing him all night long, even if it wasn’t intentional. That fantasy was enough to push him over the edge most nights, but it was proving to get harder and harder, craving the real thing instead.

On the contrary, Jeonghan knew you weren’t so innocent, knowing you were confident and quite the flirt. Sometimes, you had different escapades return with you from your occasional nights out with your friends. He wasn’t shocked when he’d find your black mini dress the night from before discarded in the middle of the hallway. A blush shading your cheeks the next morning as you’d toss the garment into your room before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. He’d tease you incessantly for the next couple of days, rightfully earning a harmless slap to the arm each time he brought it up.

One night specifically, Jeonghan found himself eavesdropping as you were on a group call with your friends in your bedroom. Absolutely, positively on accident, as Jeonghan would like to claim, he’d never intrude and purposely eavesdrop on your conversations. He’d argue that the thin walls did not do a great job at filtering out sound, and, clearly, he couldn’t help but overhear when you had the sound turned up so loud. Of course, his interest was piqued when he heard his name come from one of the voices on your phone.

“Hey, Y/N, could you set me up with that roommate of yours, Jeonghan is it?” He heard a high-pitched voice ask, a chorus of laughter coming from the line.

He could hear another voice pipe in, “me too? Unless you’re interested yourself, Y/N, huh?” The laughter turned into ooo’s and ahh’s, and he could hear you struggling to quiet them down, trying to get a word in yourself.

Jeonghan ended up with an ear pressed against the wall, his futile attempt to convince himself not to listen in on your conversation failing. He wanted to hear what you had to say, but you spoke so quietly in comparison to the sound blaring from your phone that he couldn’t make out what you said initially.

However, Jeonghan felt like he hit the lottery upon hearing what seemed like another confession. He could barely make out the last sentence you muttered before the noise on the other end picked up again.

“Jeonghan’s a little shit, but I’d fold if he’d ever ask me to.”

He could hear you giggling, the sweet tune blending in with your friends’ laughter as they seemed to encourage your confession. Jeonghan could just imagine the blush that adorned your cheeks, probably trying to hide your embarrassment from your friends. He had to hold himself back from slamming his hand against the wall, the sudden desire to make your wish come true consuming him. Your words went straight to his cock, and he tried his best to not let that simple sentence lead him over to your room and fuck you silly.

Luckily for you, it seemed like your friends no longer had time to pry, as the group call came to an end due to Ubers starting to arrive. Suddenly, your room seemed all too silent, the only thing he could make out was the clicking of your heels on the wooden floor. The sound became louder and louder, only realizing you had walked over to his room when he heard a knock at his bedroom door.

Scrambling from his spot against the wall, he runs over to his door, “coming!” He must have swung the door open with an unusual amount of force, heavily breathing due to sprinting across the room. You stood there looking like a deer in headlights even though you were the one who just knocked.

You stood there, the juxtaposition of sexiness and innocence that suited you so well, your doe-like eyes contrasting the little black dress and stilettos. You noticed the way Jeonghan’s eyes raked up and down your body, a shaky hand running through his hair as he caught his breath. It made you nervous, not used to Jeonghan’s eying you so closely, a darkness in them that you weren’t necessarily familiar with, and it made your heart race in your chest.

“You doing okay, Hannie?” You’d question, concerned by the way his chest rises and falls, unsure what is actually up with him.

“Just peachy,” he’d smile, hand gripping the door frame as he leaned closer towards you. He notices the way you slightly lean back, your cheeks turning a pinkish color as his face got closer to yours. He could smell the warm vanilla scent of your perfume, the one that oddly comforted him every time you walked past him. However, this time it only drove him more feral, cursing you for being such a tease all the time without even knowing it. “Heard you’re going out with the girls, where are you headed tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m meeting them out at Bar Ledo tonight, but I haven’t had anything to drink yet,” you start off, your blush fading away as a small smirk appears on your face when you ask Jeonghan your next question. “I thought that maybe you’d want to have a glass of wine together before I leave? Maybe let me kick your ass at a game of Uno? That is if you don’t have any plans.”

Jeonghan indeed didn’t have any plan. His only plans with the boys falling through tonight due to Seungcheol’s unfortunate case of food poisoning and Joshua somehow scoring a date with a person he met at a café earlier today. The night seemed kind of hopeless for Jeonghan until now.

“You’re on, don’t forget who the reigning champion of Uno this past week is,” Jeonghan brushes past you, mischievous smile on his face as he heads to the kitchen to pop the cork on one of your favorite wines. He chuckles quietly to himself when he hears a little celebratory whoop from you as you scurry to go grab the Uno cards. You’re quick to return, the Uno set being easily accessible as it’s a game night favorite of yours.

Trying your best to help Jeonghan out, you reach for the wine glasses up at the top of the cabinet. Unfortunately, you still aren’t tall enough to reach them even with your heels, a small grunt escaping your lips as strain to reach the glasses.

Tsking from behind you, Jeonghan approaches you with one hand placed on the small of your back, the other reaching up to grab the wine glasses for you. He couldn’t stop his wandering hands, not at the way your dress rode up as you stretched upwards. The heat that radiates from his body is enough to send warmth headed straight towards your lower stomach. “Still too short I see, what would you ever do without me?”

His hot breath on your neck is enough to make you turn to face him, hoping he’d step away, but he doesn’t at all. It makes your body temperature rise at an alarming rate. Rather, he keeps his body pressed against yours, tapping your nose with his pointer finger. You have to shove him away, grabbing one glass out of his hand and making your way to the opened bottle of wine.

You’re rambling, hoping to suppress the fire burning inside of you, “I’d actually be just fine, contrary to popular opinion, thank you very much. In fact, the only thing stopping me is that I’m still financially recovering from university, but, you know, sooner or later that all will be resolved. Otherwise, I’m perfectly capable.” Your shaky hands give you away though, pouring your glass of wine unsteadily before he holds his out, an unspoken request to pour him a glass. You pray he doesn’t realize the way you tremble, but the wine bottle almost slips out of your hand, thankfully, Jeonghan is quick-thinking to catch it.

He sends you a puzzled look, a melodious chuckle escaping his lips, one that mocks you and teases you in an unbearable way, “you sure about that?”

“Very,” you huff, deciding to sit down on the barstool opposite of where he stands at the kitchen island. You need distance, and you need a distraction ASAP. “Now, let’s play some Uno.”

You two play Uno, and as per usual, Jeonghan somehow wins multiple rounds. It’s absolutely infuriating at this point. You find yourself leaning over the counter, accusatory finger pointed at him, feeling a little fired up from the glass of wine and the constant teasing after each loss. “Admit it, you’re cheating! I don’t know how you can even cheat at Uno, but I know you are.”

He's chuckling, hands up at both sides of his head as if to plead his innocence. He couldn’t believe you were so fired up, usually after you’d lose a couple of games you’d give up with a huff and ask to play a different game. He found it unreasonably sexy, the way you were bent over the counter yelling at him, and he could ever so slightly peek down at your cleavage.

He refrained, staying silent as you continued to bark accusatory statements at him. Shocked when you hopped down from your barstool and travelled over to his side again. You were basically pressed against him, tiny hands grabbing at his pockets, “I know you have wild cards and draw four cards stashed in those pockets, Jeonghan.”

You’ve worked him up beyond belief at his point, the way your hands grab at him drove him to his breaking point. Gasping when Jeonghan grabs your wrists, he spins you around to press you flat against the counter. He has a strong grip on your wrists, holding them against your back as he leans over to whisper into your ear, “you better watch your hands, Y/N. I can only take so much teasing myself.”

His hot breath sends shivers down your spine once again, involuntarily making you push your ass back into him. This didn’t help your case at all, a harsh slap coming down onto your ass cheek as he lets out a growl. “What did I say about only taking so much teasing?”

You feel wetness begin to pool in your panties as he brings another harsh slap down to the same spot. You’re a whining mess already, begging Jeonghan to do something, anything. The only thing that snaps you back into reality is the vibration of your phone on the counter. Your group message was blowing up; notifications that the girls were arriving to the bar, finally meeting up, and wondering where you were currently.

You’d attempt to reach for your phone if Jeonghan still didn’t have your arms tightly held against your back. Honestly though, you couldn’t care less about being late to your plans right now, not when you could feel Jeonghan’s erection pressing into your ass, hot hand palming your burning cheek.

You can sense the smirk on his face when he asks, “what do you talk about with your girls? Do you talk about me?”

You’re not sure how to respond, stuttering out a response as his hand slowly travels from your ass, down to the back of your thigh, and finally snaking in between your legs. “S-Sometimes.”

“What do you say about me?” His fingers delicately trace up between your legs, landing so close to where you desire him the most. He’s teasing you by rubbing small, firm circles into your inner thigh, the motion enough to work you up that you’re squirming against the counter. You want to break free and reach behind you to pull him closer, craving to feel him pressed harder against you. He doesn’t let you move though. “Do you tell them that I’m a sweetheart, or do you tell them dirty things you’d like to do to me?”

“Fuck,” you’re gasping, trying to catch your breath as much as possible, the countertop no longer feeling cool against your skin. “I told them that I’d fold for you, Jeonghan, that I’d like to be bent over just like this.”

“I know, angel,” he coos, and you feel his fingers finally trace your folds, sure that your panties have soaked through by now. “I’ve heard it earlier.”

You feel embarrassed, unsure what he means by that. You assume it can only mean one thing, “Did you overhear what I said earlier, Jeonghan?” You yelp when you feel your panties get pushed to the side, a long finger dipping deep into your cunt. “Jesus, Jeonghan, were you listening in on my conversation?”

Jeonghan adds another finger, deeming that you are more than wet enough to take it, and you moan out in confirmation. “So what if I overheard you? We wouldn’t be where we are right now if I didn’t, right?” His fingers are moving in and out of you at a teasing pace now, slightly curling and beckoning louder moans from you. You’re nodding pathetically, deciding to table this conversation for later.

He finally lets go of the wrists pinned behind your back, but scolds you immediately for reaching towards him, “keep your hands above your head like a good little angel, or else I won’t let you cum. You’re so grabby all the time, such a tease.”

His free hand pushes your dress up to your waist, finally allowing Jeonghan to get a better view of the red marks he left on your ass. Groaning at the sight, Jeonghan palms the plump mound with his hand, his fingers now moving in and out of you at a brutal pace.

You’re soon begging for your release, “p-please, Jeonghan, I’ll be good. I’ll do whatever you want.” He’s pulling you up now, arm wrapping around the front of your waist to pull you tight against his chest. His fingers don’t stop working inside of you, you’re shaking as you feel your orgasm approaching, and Jeonghan can feel the way you clamp around his fingers. Deciding you don’t deserve it yet, he yanks his fingers out of your heat, and spins you around to face him finally.

Crying out in annoyance, he hushes you swiftly, “don’t you dare whine, angel. Be a good girl and you’ll eventually get what you deserve.” He’s quick to pull your dress off you finally, your chest spilling out due the lack of a bra underneath. The sight almost pisses him off, unbelieving that you’ve been sat here the whole time without a bra on. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N,” and with that his lips are diving into yours; your first kiss being driven by messy passion and pent-up tension.

Your hands are wandering all over his body, starting at the soft tresses of his hair and running down his sides to where the waistband of his sweatpants is. Your hands slip past the band, and you’re greeted immediately with his hard cock, precum leaking from the tip. Smirking against his lips, “You say I’m the tease, meanwhile here you are with no boxers on.”

Jeonghan’s kisses become rougher, lips trailing down your jaw to your neckline, and nibbling into the sensitive skin. His hands are now working at your pert nipples, expertly rolling them in between his fingers as you begin to stroke at his length. “Well at least you’re finally using your hands for something good,” he’s whispering as he begins to suck at a nipple, hands now grabbing at your hips as they buck towards him, the feeling of his heavy cock in your hands and his mouth on your nipple becoming all too much for you.

He's finally had enough, realizing he won’t last long when you pull your hand from his pants to spit in your palm, your now lubricated hand jerking him off expertly. With that, he’s grabbing you by the hips to pick you up, legs instinctively wrapping around him as he carries you to his bedroom.

Jeonghan wastes no time, dropping you down to the bed, and pulling his t-shirt and sweatpants off as you scramble to regain your composure. You take the time to admire Jeonghan, he’s a work of art, and you can’t believe you’ve been blessed with such a roommate. Jeonghan can say the same about you, admiring the way you’re laid out in his bed, his own little angel sent to him by Joshua.

The only thing stopping him from fucking you at this point are the soaked, lace panties that he couldn’t bother to take off earlier. “Take them off for me, Y/N,” he’s commanding, watching as you stare up at him with lustful eyes, a daring spark in them.

You take your sweet time, parting your legs for him to watch as flick your heels off and painfully, slowly pull your underwear down, letting the thin fabric fall at your ankles. You hold the panties up from one ankle, letting them dangle at his eye level as you rise to your elbows, knowing you’re doing exactly what would irk him the most: teasing him.

He knows damn well what you’re trying to do, finding your attempt to tease him humorous as he snatches the fabric from your ankle. He’s quick to move over top of you, once again grabbing your wrists. However, this time he’s using the thin, elastic fabric to tie them together above your head. You aren’t sure how, but he successfully accomplishes binding your wrists together.

“That wasn’t so smart of you now, was it, angel?” He’s cooing at you, a hand brushing over your hair before grabbing his cock, hot and heavy, the angry, red tip begging to be shoved into you. “Like I said, only good girls get what they deserve.”

“S-sorry, Jeonghan,” you’re moaning out as he begins to guide his tip between your folds. “Please, if you just fuck me, I’ll stop with the teasing and be a good girl.”

“Oh really?” He’s looking at you quizzically, testing the waters as he begins to press into you with a bit more force, your own hips trying to chase his to offer you some relief.

You’re starting to lose it, nonsensically muttering out pleas as he continues to tease at your folds, making you jerk every time he brushes your clit. Finally, Jeonghan can no longer handle his teasing himself, and without a second guess, he pushes his cock into your warm walls. You’re so tight and warm that he thinks he might explode without warning, a loud groan leaving from the depths of his chest as you welcome him in so easily.

“Fuck, angel, you feel so good,” he’s praising you for once, shallowly beginning to fuck in and out of you, making sure you’re feeling the same degree of pleasure as him before he starts to move too much. “Taking me in so well, would have never thought you were such a tease like this.”

“Ha-Hannie, I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You’re asking, motioning to the hands tied up above your head. “Please untie me, want to touch you.”

He obliges, agreeing that you’ve been good enough when he feels your walls clamp against his length without provoking you to. You’re quick to grab his face with your hands, pulling him into a desperate kiss, feeling his cock throbbing inside of you as you clamp harder around him. You need some movement, losing all sensibility from the way he thrusts shallowly inside you still.

“Such a good girl,” he’s breathing out between kisses, “feeling you tighten so needily around me, maybe the tease deserves a reward.”

“Fuck me harder, Jeonghan,” you’re begging, hands wrapped in his hair as he begins to pick up pace. “Fuck me hard and deep, please.”

Your moans turn into screams as his lengths pulls out of you, the emptiness feeling disappointing, only for him to begin snapping his hips into you at an increased pace. You feel the curve of his cock hit your g-spot, something past lovers haven’t been able to accomplish. The bed shakes from the strength that he’s fucking you, feeling the way your body moves up the mattress towards the headboard. He’s rough in how he thrusts into you, but still gentle, like himself, as he holds your face in one hand, lips coming down to kiss you, swallowing all your screams like he knows they belong to him.

“My little tease, my little angel,” he’s muttering out between his own wonton noises, shocked at the way your little pussy sucks him back in every time. He can’t escape the pleasure that is you, his movements are becoming sloppier with each thrust, and he knows he has to make sure you finish first. He’s running a hand down to your clit, feeling the swollen bud throb against his thumb as he works you closer to your orgasm.

The feeling is heavenly, the way he moves so deeply inside of you, and with the added pressure to your clit, you’re seeing the bright white light of your release. You’re not sure how loud you are when the rubber band inside of you finally snaps, your orgasm relinquishing you as you finally reach your high for the night. Jeonghan is continuing to fuck you through it, and you can feel him throbbing inside of you as you clench impossibly tighter around him.

“Such a good girl, cumming around my cock like that,” Jeonghan is close to reaching his own high, hips stuttering as you beg for him to release inside of you, your walls milking him for all he’s worth. He’s pulling you in for one last kiss, loving the way your lips feel against his, all swollen and pouty from tonight. He’s tempted to overstimulate both of you, but he knows he’d be pushing his boundaries if he did.

Reluctantly, he pulls out of you, watching his cum drip from between you folds. Pride wells within his chest, proud of you for taking his cock so well without a fight. Proud to stake a claim over his angel. He’s quick to take care of you, cleaning you up and throwing a comfy, oversized white tee over you.

Jeonghan is climbing into bed next to you, your grabby hands as always pulling him into you, and wrapping you into his arms. He already knows the first thing he’s going to ask you after everything that has occurred tonight.

“So, what are you going to say to the girls about me now? Did I successfully make you fall in love with me yet?”

#svthub #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #roommate!jeonghan

[thedensworld]

Where to Sign?

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff

Words count: 600

Summary: Seungcheol is about to sign the pre when you said this thing to him

Seungcheol, just like any average person, dedicated his days to working for eight hours or even more before finally returning home. But whenever you paid a visit to his place, he dispelled the tired notion of coming back drained, and you tending to him. Even as a regular human, he took it upon himself to treat you like royalty. Craving a movie marathon? He's all in! Hankering for a meticulously prepared three-hour homemade steak? He's all yours! Caught eyeing yet another ice cream flavor after already picking one? He'd buy you the entire supermarket if that's what you wanted. Ensuring your happiness and making sure you loved every moment was his top priority.

If ever his colleagues caused him trouble at work, a simple text from you could light up his day:

'I'll visit your apartment!'

Just the sight of you cooking dinner or playing with Kkuma was enough to dispel his weariness and worries. He cherished every moment with you and wanted to make sure you felt the same.

"You're preparing a week's worth of meals? That's incredibly thoughtful. My girlfriend truly is the sweetest person in the world," he declared, observing the array of food containers arranged on the counter.

Seungcheol's eyes widened with delight when he spotted ribeye on the menu. He couldn't resist wrapping his arms around you in a tight back hug. "Could you stop making me fall for you even harder?"

Coming to his place wasn't solely about meeting him; it was about reveling in Seungcheol's impeccable kitchen. You had voiced this sentiment to him before, leading to playful banter. He teased you, suggesting you chose him because of his nice kitchen, and though you agreed in jest, it earned him a day of mock sulking.

Cooking in his kitchen was a pleasure you relished, even preferring it to your own. The spaciousness allowed you to move comfortably. Seungcheol, however, couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation that you always insisted on paying for groceries, even when he offered his card.

"Why won't you use my card?" he asked once, bewildered. Your response left him speechless, "Because I have money? I can even afford you, Choi Seungcheol."

He admired your confidence immensely.

"How was your day?" you inquired, simultaneously seasoning the food you were preparing. Seungcheol marveled at your ability to multitask. He could never.

Seungcheol tightened his embrace around you. "Mingyu managed to blow up a computer. Guess who has to foot the bill?" His voice held a touch of tension.

"Wait, did I hear that correctly? He exploded a computer?" you asked, incredulous.

Seungcheol nodded, his tone wry. "Indeed. He 'exploded' it and claimed it was a mere accident. Once again, he's demonstrated his capacity to exceed my expectations."

A chuckle escaped you, memories of your first encounter with Seungcheol and Mingyu surfacing. Back then, Mingyu was Seungcheol's assistant manager, and he'd mistakenly informed Seungcheol of a meeting with you a week earlier than scheduled.

"I'm sorry, hyung. I misread the schedule. You have no meeting today," Mingyu had confessed.

Promotion to branch manager hadn't diminished Mingyu's ability to surprise Seungcheol.

"Why are you footing the bill for him? Isn't the office's finance department responsible for him?" you wondered, referring to Mingyu's financial team.

Seungcheol sighed. "They've poured a significant amount into a project I already approved. Plus, he insists that we're together because of him, effectively putting me in a lifelong debt."

You turned off the stove and pivoted to face him. Your arms linked around his neck, your gaze locked onto his. A radiant smile graced your lips, a sight Seungcheol cherished from up close. The silence between you two spoke volumes, a shared moment of comfort.

"What's on your mind, sweetie?" Seungcheol whispered, arms secure around you.

You giggled. "Are you looking to spend your life with me?" you asked, alluding to his earlier remark about the 'debt' Mingyu claimed.

Seungcheol nodded, gaze unwavering. "Absolutely, baby," he affirmed, and you rewarded him with a tender kiss.

Turning back to the counter, you arranged the ribeye alongside rice and stir-fried vegetables. Seungcheol seated himself at the bar, eyeing the food with anticipation.

"I'm going to savor every bite," he declared.

You hummed in agreement. "So will I," you replied, your culinary skills not lost on Seungcheol.

"Spending a lifetime with you," you added, a sentence that instantly turned Seungcheol's world upside down.

*

Boo Seungkwan stood before the anxious man, his tone gentle yet regretful. "I'm afraid that you could meet Ms. Ji today. Her schedule is packed, and I couldn't find your name."

Seungcheol's heart sank, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "It's definitely today, can you please make sure to check with her once again?" He almost begged, desperation evident in his eyes. The pressure from the company directors bore down on him, forcing him into a situation he'd rather avoid.

"Hello, Ms. Nam," Seungkwan's voice echoed down the line, "there's someone looking for Ms. Ji from SVT Corporation... His name is Choi Seungcheol..."

A tense pause hung in the air as Ms. Nam, whom Seungcheol assumed to be Ms. Ji's secretary or assistant, exchanged words with Seungkwan. Seungcheol held his breath, silently praying that they'd grant him the chance to meet Ms. Ji.

"Mr. Choi, are you the representative for Universe Factory Studio?" The question was met with an immediate, eager nod from Seungcheol.

Seungkwan concluded the call, his expression softening with a hint of sympathy. "Mr. Choi, please wait in our lounge. Ms. Ji's representative will be with you shortly."

Seungcheol suppressed a victorious shout, maintaining his composure as he politely excused himself and made his way to the designated waiting area.

"Mr. Choi?" A woman approached, her demeanor professional yet warm. "I'm Nam Y/n, Ms. Ji's personal assistant. I'm truly sorry for the confusion earlier, but I believe there's been a miscommunication."

Seungcheol's heart sank further as her words unfurled. "Ms. Ji is in a meeting with a client from Japan, and she can't leave it. I had already informed Mr. Kim that the meeting was scheduled for next Wednesday. I'm afraid you won't be able to meet Ms. Ji today."

Seungcheol's frustration boiled beneath the surface, a muffled curse escaping his lips. Kim Mingyu, that idiot.

#densworld🌼 #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen carat #seventeen #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen headcanons #seventeen fan fiction #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #scoups imagine #scoups smut #scoups imagines #scoups #scoups fanfic #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fanfic

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box Series— Cruel Weather (Part Two)

requests: “I was wondering if you’d maybe do something about sissy getting seriously hurt (like a landing in the hospital kind of bad?) I honestly just really want to see all the boys protective and worried about her” and “Hi!!! Im absolutely in love with the penalty box series, and i was wondering if we could get a small blurb with sissy getting injured? ik you did a thing depicting how the boys would react, and im intrigued to see how that would play out:)”

requests based off this ask: how the boys would react to sissy getting hurt

warnings: major car accident, crying, surgery, broken bones, coma, mentions of throwing up, panic attacks, mentions of dying, arguing, mentions of getting drunk

word count: 3.6k

General Series Masterlist

part one — part two — part three — part four

—————

Trevor woke up a little after seven the next morning by Jamie shaking him awake and handing him an iced coffee.

“I bet your back feels great,” Jamie laughed at his best friend’s weird sleeping position.

Trevor stretched and they both winced at the amount of pops there were.

“Depending on how long she’s in here, I might get used to it,” Trevor said. “Thanks.”

Jamie nodded in response and yanked the chair from underneath Trevor’s legs to sit in.

“Mama Hughes is forcing everyone to eat breakfast. We got yelled at for the lack of food, by the way,” Jamie said, getting a small chuckle from Trevor.

“Of course we did.”

“So they all went out and I was permitted to bring you coffee and check on you, and they’ll bring us something back,” Jamie told him.

Trevor nodded in response, “Has anyone heard from Quinn?”

Jamie took a hold of Y/N’s hand at the mention of her best friend’s name, “His flight didn’t take off until close to six, so he should get here around nine, nine thirty. How’s she doing?”

“Same as last night,” Trevor sighed. “If a doctor came in, I slept through it.”

“I’m surprised you slept,” Jamie commented.

“I didn’t wanna disappoint her,” Trevor said low. Jamie understood what he meant. If Y/N heard that he was a wreck and didn’t take care of himself at all, she’d lecture him and feel tremendously guilty.

“How was everyone at the house?”

“It was quiet,” Jamie said. “Scarily quiet. I think everyone was worried they wouldn’t hear a phone ring if they spoke too loud. Jack talked to Quinn, but that was about it. Jim and Ellen slept in my room, and the rest of us all slept in the living room and semi watched the Hunger Games.”

“Alex’s idea?”

“Jack’s,” Jamie answered. “I think it was for Luke.”

“He’s been keeping all of us sane,” Trevor said.

“He’s channeling Sissy,” Jamie smiled.

“She’d kill you if she knew you called her that,” Trevor said in a fake warning tone.

“Good; maybe she’ll wake up,” Jamie joked, and luckily, got a real laugh out of Trevor.

“I needed that.”

“We both did.”

Both boys sat in a comfortable, well… as comfortable as they could be given the situation, silence as they watched the steady up and down movement of Y/N’s chest. Sure, she needed a machine’s assistance, but she was breathing.

The silence was only broken by everyone else filing into the room with food for the two boys. Cole and Alex had stolen some chairs they found in the hall for people to sit in, and made sure to grab an extra for when Quinn arrived.

A nurse came in and checked on all of her vital signs and medication outputs before telling the group that everything looks okay.

“Do you know when she’ll wake up?” Cole asked.

“It’s not an exact science, but she should be waking up within the next couple of days,” the nurse answered politely. They thanked her and returned to their silence when she left.

“Okay, somebody say something. I’m going to go insane,” Luke piped up.

“Remember our senior year?” Alex asked, a hint of mischief laced in his voice.

“Oh god,” Cole groaned into his hands.

“We were all a mess,” Trevor laughed.

“Sissy especially!” Jack called out.

“She was the biggest menace out of all of us,” Alex said.

“She’s still a menace,” Jamie pointed out.

“She was worse,” Trevor told him.

“Much worse,” Luke agreed.

“That was an interesting year to say the least,” Ellen said as she smiled at the boys reminiscing.

“Do I even wanna know?” Jamie asked.

“Give him a glimpse, Z,” Jack said.

“You know how at parties she’s a runner and we tend to tie her to one of us?”

“Yeah?”

“That started after I tripped and sprained my ankle while chasing her around a lake. The only reason I caught her and we made it back is because she puked in said lake and decided to get in it to, and I quote, ‘give herself a bath.’”

Jamie started laughing, genuinely laughing, and it was so contagious that the rest of the group did, too.

It was needed. They knew she was going to wake up soon, and they thought they all deserved a little laughter. It died out quickly, and the reminder of why they were all in a room together was too strong.

“We were supposed to facetime tonight,” Cole said suddenly.

“At eight,” Alex added.

“What movie was she gonna make you watch?” Jamie asked.

“She said it was a surprise,” Cole whispered. He was scared that if he talked any louder, his voice would crack. Him and Alex hadn’t seen her with the breathing tube, yet.

“She keeps a list on her phone of movies she wants to watch with you,” Trevor told him. “I have her phone, if you want to know what tonight’s plan was.”

Cole shook his head, “I’ll let her keep her surprise.”

The group swapped stories, which felt a little weird, but it was something to pass the time. Even in a coma, just stories about her brought smiles to everyone’s faces.

“I don’t even know where she ended up after the party before our draft day,” Jack laughed.

“Sissy and Z ended up sleeping on my floor,” a new voice said in the doorway. Quinn.

Trevor stood up immediately and the two boys, arguably the two most important people to Sissy, stared at each other. Quinn nodded, and somehow Trevor knew what he meant. He met him the middle and the two of them hugged each other the tightest they ever had before. If anyone were to understand just how hard this accident was hitting them, it was the other.

Jamie stood up as well and offered the chair closest to Y/N to him. He sat down and took his best friend’s hand in both of us, just as every other person who has sat in the chair before him.

“Do you want a moment alone?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah,” Quinn croaked. He was already a mess, but seeing her made it all come crashing down. He was no longer focusing on getting to Y/N. He was here. And it was so much worse than he imagined.

Everyone quietly shuffled out of the room and into the hall. Quinn gripped onto Y/N’s uninjured hand for dear life and allowed himself to cry. Only it wasn’t just crying that he was doing. He was full on sobbing with his head down on the thin mattress.

“I just saw you. Last week we were doing our yearly group workout before training camp and now you’re comatose because of how your depression medication mixed with the anesthesia. When Trevor called me to tell me-“

Quinn got too choked up to continue, but he needed to get it out. He didn’t even know if she could hear him; he just needed to say it.

“To tell me you slipped into a coma, I thought he was calling to tell me you died. I thought I was going to have to hear over the phone that you had died and I lost the most important person to me forever. I couldn’t sleep. I know you’ll scold me for that, but I couldn’t. I tried. I just kept waking up from nightmares about life without you.

“You’ve been in my life since I was seven years old. You’ve practically been my sister since day one. I’ve protected you from so much, and I couldn’t stop this from happening. You’ve been through so much, and now you have to go through this, and I won’t be here. Trevor and Jamie are great for you, and they’ll take good care of you, but it won’t be me. It physically can’t be and the thought of that makes me sick.”

Quinn jumped at what happened next. He wasn’t completely sure he didn’t imagine it, that’s how surprised he was.

“Sissy?” he whispered.

This time, Quinn was sure it happened. Y/N’s unconscious form lightly squeezed his hand. Quinn tried to not get his hopes up too high. He knows that movement doesn’t always mean the person will wake up soon, due to the fact that he heavily researched comas the second he was told, but it has to mean something.

“Trevor!” Quinn called out, making sure his voice didn’t portray that it was an emergency.

His tone wasn’t much help, because with the situation at hand, Trevor immediately assumed something was wrong. He ran into the room with his eyes wide and heart racing harder than ever.

“What’s wrong?! What happened?! I don’t hear anything and she looks fine. Well not fine-“

“She squeezed my hand!” Quinn cut him off.

Trevor’s eyes widened at the news. Everyone else overheard the announcement from the hall and came flooding in, as well. Jim told everyone he was getting a nurse to check if it meant something, or if it was a subconscious movement. After all, even years long coma patients can slightly move to external stimuli.

After a few quick trials, it was concluded that she wasn’t squeezing hands as a response, because she would do it at random times, and a few minutes later stopped doing it all together.

It was a false hope.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn said. He was absolutely defeated.

“Don’t be sorry, Quinny,” Jack sighed. “She was squeezing your hand. She squeezed Trevor’s, and she squeezed Dr. Walsh’s hand. She’s in there. She’s just not awake yet.”

“When did you get so wise?” Quinn teased him.

“Z and I were talking about that this morning,” Jamie said.

“About me being wise?”

“Jimmy here said you were channeling Sissy,” Trevor smiled. “I told him she’d kill him if she knew he called her Sissy.”

“I am seeing a bit of Sissy in you lately,” Jim pointed out to his son.

Jack smiled to himself. It was the biggest compliment he could ever receive, in his opinion.

“It’s a twin thing,” Jack joked.

“Definitely a twin thing,” Luke played along.

— — —

It was getting harder than it was yesterday to sit in a room and listen to the heart monitor beep. The more they looked at her, the more frail and broken she looked. It was taking a toll on everyone and it was only day two.

Jim and Ellen went to get everyone lunch, and Jack decided that everyone needs to shower so they’ll take turns going back to Trevor, Jamie, and Sissy’s house. Jack thought Trevor would put up the biggest fight, but it was actually Quinn.

“I just got here!” Quinn argued.

“And you’re all worked up,” Jack tried to reason with his big brother. “You need to-“

“I need to be with her,” Quinn cut him off firmly. “You all saw her last night. You all got to race here the second you got the call while I was stuck in my house going out of fucking mind and you have the nerve to tell me that I need to leave her after only a few hours to take my third shower in the last twenty four hours?!”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just thought-“

“Stop trying to be Sissy!” Quinn yelled.

The energy in the room went still. Everyone was frozen in place. Jack’s eyes might have been wide, but they were full of hurt.

“You’re not Sissy. No one will ever come close to her. She’s lying in a hospital bed, you’re perfectly fine and bossing people around! Well guess what, Jack? I’m not fine! Taking a shower isn’t going to take away from the fact that the person I would take a bullet for is suffering and will be for a long time!”

“You think I’m fine?!” Jack fired back. “I haven’t been fine since Jamie called! I had to tell everyone! I had to call Alex, and Cole, and Luke, mom and dad, and you! I had to make sure Trevor didn’t go catatonic for the entire time Sissy is in the hospital! I had to make sure Luke didn’t fall apart at the seams when he passed by her and Trevor’s room! I’ve been taking care of everybody with no one to help me! I didn’t sleep last night because every time I closed my eyes, I saw her dying in my arms and you think I’m perfectly fine?!”

Jack’s knees started to give out, and if it wasn’t for Cole and Alex catching him and easing him into a chair, he would’ve collapsed on the floor.

“I know she’s your best friend, but she was mine first. I was the one there for her when you left. She kept telling you that she was fine. What she didn’t tell you was that she cried herself to sleep in my bed every night for weeks,” Jack said through tears. “She’s been in my life longer than anyone else’s here. So no, Quinn, I’m not fine. But she won’t be fine if she finds out that everyone important to her fell apart over her, so I’m doing what I can for her.”

“Let’s give the brothers a moment alone with her,” Jamie said. “We can all go to the house to… do things.”

Everyone remained silent as they left, leaving only the three Hughes boys alone. Quinn sighed and took a seat next to Jack.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Me, too,” Jack whispered.

“Did she really cry in your room for weeks?” Luke asked as he got up to sit in the third chair next to Jack. All Jack did was nod.

“She didn’t tell me,” Quinn said glumly. He felt like the worst brother in the world.

“She didn’t want to make you feel guilty,” Jack shrugged. “I’m just glad she moved with us when I went. I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened to her.”

“She would’ve popped back up into our lives eventually,” Luke said.

“Yeah, but in what state?” Quinn asked.

“Hopefully better than this one,” Luke answered.

— — —

Tensions had died down once everyone came back and the brothers were handed food and politely demanded to eat by Ellen. Lunch was really dinner, because it was just after five.

Y/N remained the same. The nurses checked vitals, administered pain medication, and whatever else they did while they kicked everyone out the room to give them space to work. Everything they did, she still stayed unconscious, and left the group with the constant reassurance that the delayed emergence therapy was working and she should be waking up “within the next few days.”

After Jack and Quinn’s argument, Quinn made sure to make sure Jack wasn’t falling apart while trying to help everybody. He was prepared to fly to Jersey to be with him, so he felt that he should keep his word and be there for him now. If Jack noticed, he drew no attention to it.

The nursing staff kicked everyone out at eight when normal visitor hours ended as opposed to their late night stay the night before. No one wanted to go, but she was stable, so no one fought too hard. Everyone left to the parking lot, leaving only Trevor and Quinn in the room.

“You can stay-“ they both started speaking at the same time.

“She’s your best-“

“She’s your girlfriend,” Quinn cut Trevor off. “You’re her world. Trust me on that. Just call me first if anything happens, alright?”

“Alright,” Trevor smiled.

There wasn’t much for Trevor to do besides worry until he passed out at some ungodly hour, so he put on The Hunger Games to feel like Y/N was watching it with him. The doctors said that the closer she got to waking up, the more she could potentially be aware of external stimuli, and Trevor was too optimistic to not believe it. So, he put on her favorite movie series and hoped for the best.

Everything was fine the entire duration of the first movie. There was nothing but the sounds of the movie and Y/N’s steady heartbeat monitored on the machine.

Everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Well passed one in the morning, the once steady beep was blaring at what felt like a mile a minute. Nurses and doctors came flooding in and immediately began shouting words that Trevor didn’t understand. What he did understand was that he was being ordered out, but that didn’t mean he was going to listen. Instead, he remained in the doorway, helplessly watching while the hospital staff tried to get Y/N back to her original state.

The excessive beeping stopped, and Trevor desperately wanted it to return because the sound that took its place made Trevor sick.

Y/N flatlined.

“No!” Trevor wailed and dropped to his knees.

A nurse immediately went towards him and started to push him out of the room in an attempt to calm him down as the doctor in the room pulled out the defibrillators.

“Sir, you’re having a panic attack,” the nurse told him calmly. “I need you to breathe.”

“My girlfriend just died!”

The nurse was right. Trevor was hyperventilating so much that he could no longer deny what was happening to him. His head felt heavy, his ears were ringing, and his chest felt like it was burning.

“I have to call Quinn!” he shouted out. He probably interrupted the nurse, but he was so out of it, he couldn’t tell. “I have to call Quinn, I have to! You have to let me call Quinn!”

“Okay, Trevor, is it?” She continued when he nodded. “We’ll call Quinn, but we need to focus on you right now before you get hurt.”

Trevor continued to fight with her and caused quite the scene in the hallway. The next thing he knew, he was being held down and given a shot. Then it went black.

— — —

Quinn threw up when he hung up the phone.

Sissy flatlined. She died. They barely got her stable in time. His world almost ended.

Alex was the one that found him and got him calmed down enough to talk to him, the only thing was that he didn’t. Quinn could already be a quiet guy, but he had gone silent. Alex couldn’t even get his attention.

“Quinn!” Alex shouted. He grabbed his face in hands and looked directly into his eyes. “Now is not the time to shut down! What happened?! What happened, Quinn?!”

All the commotion brought the attention of the others, but Jack and Luke were the only ones that stepped into the bathroom.

“Q?” Jack asked calmly. “Quinn, what’s wrong? What happened? Is Sissy okay?”

Quinn shook his head.

“Quinn, how much worse can she get from being in a coma?”

Nothing. Jack put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, “HOW MUCH WORSE CAN SHE GET FROM BEING IN A COMA?!”

Ellen pushed everyone out of the way, including her middle child, and stood close to Quinn.

“Give him room!” Ellen shouted, shooing Alex and Jack out of the small bathroom. “Let’s give him some time to breathe before we hound him!”

It took twenty three minutes for Quinn to get to a state of mind where he could actually speak coherent sentences he was in so much shock. Everyone had gone downstairs, Quinn included, and waited. Jack got him water and sat next to him while Ellen comforted him on his other side.

“Quinny, just answer me this— is Sissy okay?” Luke asked. “Just move your head. You don’t have to speak.”

Luke was shaking. Quinn took notice and his big brother mode kicked in.

“She’s stable,” he said.

Everyone let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. The fear of the worst had captivated every single one of them. What else would send Quinn into silence?

“Then… what- what uh… what happened?” Jamie asked awkwardly, terrified for his answer.

“She died,” Quinn said in monotone. He was still in shock.

“No! No, no, no! Quinn, you just said she’s stable!” Jack shouted at him.

“She is. They barely got to her in time,” Quinn said, a little more lively this time. “She died. But she’s stable now.”

Quinn caught his little brother’s eyes— they were clouded by fear. No, fear wasn’t the right word for it. He looked terrified.

Quinn was so focused on Jack that he failed to notice Jamie. In fact, everyone was so focused on Quinn that they failed to notice Jamie. Jamie, who felt like the weight of the sun just landed on his chest. Jamie, who didn’t hear anything past “she died.” Jamie, who was against the wall with his knees pressed to his chest and couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He hadn’t known Y/N for as long as the others, not even close, but he loves her. He loves her just as much as anybody else. She’s one of his best friends, and he doesn’t want to live in a world without her. He lives with her! In the very house they’re in right now. Where he just got the news. And suddenly, he’d rather be anywhere else. Jamie made a break for the door, but Jack caught him and turned him to face him.

“Jimmy! Hey, look at me,” Jack said urgently. His hands were on Jamie’s shoulders to keep him in place. “She’s alive. Sissy is alive. Y/N is alive.”

Jamie leaned backwards and slammed his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and wiped his hands down his face.

“Thank fuck,” he said through tears.

Jack put a comforting hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, “Yeah. Thank fuck.”

#penalty box series #penalty box series: imagines #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras angst #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes angst #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes angst #jamie drysdale angst #cole caufield #alex turcotte #hockey imagine #hockey fic

[sh7ggy]

SHOTO TODOROKI X (G/N) READER FLUFF

Summary: You and Todoroki go ice skating together and fall in love <333

Includes: pure fluff.

WC: 783

(REQUESTS ARE OPEN)

Todoroki had asked you to go to the ice-skating rink with him, which came as a surprise, because you two don't talk that much and he isn't exactly the social type either, but, nonetheless, you agreed to go. He said he just wanted to hang out with you.

You had to admit it, though... You wouldn't have minded if he had asked you out on a date instead of a hangout. Regardless, it might be nice to get to spend some alone time with him.

Now, you were walking into the skating rink, looking around the big, global building to see if Todoroki had arrived already. And there he was, already waiting for you by the bleachers, skates in hand.

He looked so cute in his winter attire.

'I'm glad you could make it.' He said in his usual monotone voice.

He scanned you from top to bottom.

'You look... nice.' He sounded like he was having trouble chosing the right words to use. This was pretty out of character for him, because he's usually confident and plain-spoken.

You thought that maybe, he was just trying to be nice, so you just smiled at him in response and sat down to put your skates on, which you were having quite a bit of trouble with.

'Here, let me help you.' He kneeled down to assist you.

You blushed at his chivalry.

As you carefully walked over to the ice, you tried to make conversation.

'So... I assume you're a pretty good skater.'

He didn't respond. Instead, he got on the ice and showed off his figure skating skills while you could barely keep yourself standing.

He stopped next to you.

'What do you think?'

You grabbed the wall of the rink to balance yourself.

'You're such a show-off!' You rolled your eyes at him sarcastically.

He looked down at the ground awkwardly. It seemed like you had upset him.

'I didn't mean to make you mad. I just wanted to impress you.' He confessed.

You should've remembered Todoroki has trouble with sarcasm.

'No, no, it's my fault.' You put your hand on his shoulder, partly to comfort him and partly because you were hard to take seriously clinging onto the wall like that.

'Anyway... If you want to learn how to skate, I could teach you.' He grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him.

'You need to push your feet out to go forward and keep them a bit spread to balance yourself.' He informed you unsolicitedly.

Even after you did what he told you to do, you couldn't seem to get the hang of it. Were you just that bad at skating? Or were you stumbling like that because you were holding hands with Todoroki?

'You're really bad at this.' He said bluntly as you almost fell for the 5th time. 'Let's go take a break.'

He was holding you by waist as he guided you off the ice, making you even more nervous than before.

He noticed your nervousness and let go immediately.

'I'm sorry. Did that make you uncomfortable?' You could tell he was feeling guilty.

'I'm trying to be chivalrous like Kirishima told me to be, but I'm just making it awkward, aren't I?'

'Why did you talk to Kirishima about our meet-up?'

'I have a crush on you.'

Well, he definitely didn't beat around the bush.

You were surprised at his sudden confession. When you arrived at the skating rink's cafe, you still hadn't answered him.

'So... I'm assuming your silence means you don't feel the same about me.' He said as you sat down.

'No! I definitely feel the same about you! Sorry for not responding. I was just surprised, I guess.'

He smiled at your response, and he doesn't do that often. He had a smile on his face all throughout the rest of your 'date'. You hoped you'd get to see that more often.

As the day neared it's end, the two of you decided to call it quits. You felt sad that it was over already.

When you arrived outside, you both just stood in silence for a while, neither of you wanting to leave yet.

Until the silence was broken by Todoroki.

'Are we a couple now?' He tilted his head curiously.

'If you want us to be.' You answered.

'Yeah, I would like that.' He looked at the ground shyly. 'Also, you can call me Shoto from now on.'

'Alright then, see you tomorrow, Shoto.' You put emphasis on his name.

He softly kissed your cheek.

'Yeah, see you tomorrow, (Y/N).' He copied the way you emphasized his name.

That's when he walked off, leaving you standing in shock.

#shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #todoroki x reader #mha fluff #shoto #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fanfiction #fluff