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asuyaka · 3 months

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Heyy, idk if u're still taking requests or not but if u're not just ignore this!

TikTok really came to drag me down the Satosugu hole by the foot this week goddamn. Anyways, I'd like to request my favorite sad gay boys with a m!reader who's a effeminate soft boy and is usually pretty quiet and cooperative but the second someone says something remotely negative about the two m!reader is already throwing hands and burying the offender's head onto the ground. Bonus point if he's from the Zen'in clan!

No one's ever calling Geto's bangs 'weird' with m!reader around lol.

- '🌈' Anon.

★ - yes! reqs are open !! when the first (yippie!!) one piece one shot comes out s'when reqs are gunna close briefly cause 've got other things m'needa work on! (❁´◡`❁)

☆ - Satosugu x M! Zen'in clan reader!

Lulling chirping sounds sounded through the second-year classroom as the sun began to rise. The sound of sweeping and the screech of desks moving across the table sounded through your ears.

With a gentle hand, you plucked the dead leaves off the bouquet of flowers that usually resided on the window sill next to your seat; plucking off the leaves as well and shaking it so the petals could become more pronounced.

After cutting the stem so water could flow through them, you placed the flowers in their vase and put them in their designated position, a pleased smile on your face when you realized that was the last thing you needed to do for cleaning duty, even though it wasn't your turn.

The door slid open behind you as a tired-looking Yaga walked into class. His eyes widened for a bit when they saw you before his expression turned sour. "Good morning, [Name]. I thought Satoru had cleaning duty for today?"

You bowed politely in greeting. "He asked me to do it because he had to get limited edition crepes today."

Yaga sets his things on the table with an annoyed mumble. "Thank you, please make sure he gets to class on time."

You nodded as you left the classroom. The sun shone down on your face through the windows as you made your way to Suguru's and Satoru's dorms.

You pass by Shoko in the kitchen who was hunched over the counter making a cup of coffee. "Want a cup?" She asks, biting and finishing the remaining pocky in her mouth.

'If Suguru woke up a few minutes ago, he'd want some. Maybe Satoru would like some hot chocolate too.' You thought briefly before turning your attention back to the brunette. "Yes, please. One hot chocolate and black coffee."

Shoko grins at that instantly recognizing the order. "You've got it Mister Zen'in."

You wave goodbye and continue your journey. Suguru's dorm isn't that far from the kitchen so you got there in a short amount of time. You knocked, politely waiting for an answer.

"[Name]-chan? If it's you, you can come in!" Satoru's voice answered.

You open the door to see two bags of delivered crepes beside Satoru, who is painting Suguru's nails black. "See? Got some for you guys 'cause I'm such a nice person!"

Suguru rolls his eyes. "You only got them because you remembered flunking on cleaning duty."

You take a seat beside them, staring at Suguru's black nails. "Yaga says I should make sure you two get to class on time."

Satoru snorts, the tiniest bit of blue peeking out from his glasses. "Yeah, and when have we ever listened to what Yaga says?"

"You don't. Maybe Suguru, but I actually enjoy not getting punched in the head every time you do something stupid." You interject, causing Satoru to gasp loudly.

"Suguru! Do you hear this? I do everything I can to make sure you two are well fed and all I get in return is bullying!" Satoru whines as he sets the nail polish aside to let Suguru's nails dry and picks up the bags with a bright smile on his face.

Shoko kicks the door open with two mugs in her hand. "Here you go losers. Zen'in blink twice if they're forcing you to be here."

Suguru and Satoru stare at you expectingly, an exaggerated gasp when they see your eyes close twice.

Shoko giggles, patting the top of your head affectionately. "Yeah, I'd be scared if I was forced to hang out with them too."

She walks out of the room with a reminder that class starts in a few hours. Satoru brought out the crepes and immediately started eating them as he read the Digimon manga, periodically sipping his extra-sweet cocoa.

"[Name], why didn't you get a drink?" Suguru asks, picking up a crepe carefully so the paint doesn't smudge.

You shrug. "The place I normally get my drinks at is too far to walk in the morning."

Satoru looks at you blankly as he stuffs his face with more food. "I could've teleported, dummy. C'mon, road trip time!" He exclaims as he grabs you and Suguru.

"Satoru, no— you haven't even mastered it yet—"

You feel reality split and your stomach churns uncomfortably for a brief second before everything stills again. The sound of cars blaring runs through your ears as a familiar sidewalk reflects through your eyes. "See? easy!"

"[Name]? Are you okay?" Suguru asks, squatting in front of you with worry all over his face.

Taking a minute to breathe, you feel everything finally settle. You have no idea how Satoru can do that without throwing up. "Yes, I am... okay. Just a little disoriented."

Suguru shoots a glare at the albino who rubs your back apologetically. "Well, my apology is your drink! So come on, I wanna get back to the crepes before Shoko's fat ass eats them."

"Shoko doesn't even like the crepes you order. It's always too much sugar." Suguru defends, slapping Satoru upside the head as the three of you walk into the shop.

It's a small cafe situated inside a bookstore with soft Lofi music playing in the background. The three of you get in line. It's short, most likely due to how early it was but that only meant you could get back to the dorms on time.

You hear snickering behind you but pay no mind. After all, it was a public place, and whatever affairs other people had wasn't your business.

Then, you hear something about how a guy has his nails painted. In the corner of your eye, you can see them pointing at Suguru.

Either Suguru and Satoru notice and they don't care, or they don't notice. Either way, you weren't going to let them poke fun at your friend (boyfriend?) and get away with it.

"Is something the matter?"

They stare at you, visibly sizing you up. "Wondering why your friend has nail polish on, isn't that only for chicks?"

Satoru taps you on your shoulder. "Take it outside, don't want you to beat their ass and get banned, yanno?"

You acknowledge him but keep a sharp gaze on the two of them. "Giving gendered terms to inanimate objects is an extremely stupid thing to do. It is not on you, so why should you care what he has on?"

The implication of calling them stupid seemed to hit a nerve because a vein pops in their forehead and their fists clench. "Cause it's fucking gay. What? You like taking it up the ass too?"

"If a fight is what you want, then that is fine with me. Do not let your petty ideals and quite frankly shitty opinions mess up my morning."

They keep talking as you make your way outside. The instant the door chimes close, a loud groan rips through one of their mouths.

They hold onto their nose, now streaming blood and broken. "Dude, what the fuck?!"

"You wanted a fight, did you not? Now, I am quite busy at the moment so if that is all, then I bid you a good rest of your day."

As you were about to walk back into the store, Suguru and Satoru came out with your drink in hand. "Yo! Here, got the kind you like cause I loveee you so much!" Satoru kisses your cheek and hands you your order, especially as you like it.

"Thank you, Satoru. Would you like to go back to the dorms now?"

Suguru stuffs a cake pop in your mouth, handing Satoru one and eating one as well. "Thanks for... that, by the way."

"It's no problem. You are my... partner, after all."

Satoru grins as he latches onto the two of you again. "Teleportation time, let's go!"

"Satoru, no—"

#ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 — ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴ' ᴍᴀɴɢᴀ #⋆｡𖦹 — ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ#012 #★: anon!#jjk x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x male reader #x male reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu x male reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x male reader #suguru x male reader #satoru x male reader #male reader

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dyaz-stories · 4 months

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in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader

summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.

word count: 3.1k

warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader

A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!

It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.

Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.

Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.

You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.

It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.

A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.

You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.

Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.

You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.

You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.

But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.

It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.

“What happened here?” he asks.

He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"

Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.

“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.

He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.

Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.

“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.

Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.

“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”

Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.

“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”

You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.

“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.

For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.

Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.

“Go,” he orders.

“But…”

He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.

“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”

There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—

“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”

Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.

“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”

“But they’re…”

You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”

He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.

“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.

There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.

“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.

He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.

“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Neither does he!

“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.

Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.

You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.

“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”

He sighs, shakes his head.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.

There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.

“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”

“There’s no need to—”

“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”

You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.

It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.

When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.

“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.

“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”

“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.

He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.

“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”

Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.

And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.

“Try not to move around too much, okay?”

“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.

“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”

He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.

“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.

“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”

“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”

You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.

“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”

“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”

“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”

You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.

“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.

“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.

“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”

“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.

“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.

“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”

You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.

His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.

“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”

Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.

Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.

“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.

“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.

“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”

The words almost send a shiver down your spine.

“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”

Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.

“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”

You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.

“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”

“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.

You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.

“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”

He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.

“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”

I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!

more writing for sweet home

#sweet home #sweet home x reader #sweet home netflix #sweet home season #park chan young #chan young #chan young x reader #park chan young x reader #sweet home imagines #park jinyoung #my writing

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wzrd-wheezes · 2 months

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Not Half Bad - Marauders x Reader

AN - I'm a few minutes early but happy valentine's day, my loves. I wanted to post something that wasn't crazy romantic because I know today can be pretty lonely. So, enjoy some platonic marauders x reader fluff. This is my first time writing anything like this so please let me know what you think. 1.7k words.

Y/N startled awake, her head throbbing and her eyes swollen from tears. She groaned softly, feeling the weight of exhaustion as she rubbed her face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Then, the unmistakable sound echoed through her apartment again.

Bang, bang, bang.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N muttered curses under her breath before she shuffled towards the front door. The harsh hallway light made her squint as she opened the door, taking a moment to register the trio standing before her.

“Come on, you. Out of the way, we’ve got some serious work to do!” James declared, gently nudging Y/N aside to enter her apartment, with Remus and Sirius following close behind.

“What the hell are you doing? It’s practically the crack of dawn!” She exclaimed; her voice still thick with sleep.

“Oh, yeah? And you’d know what time of day it was, would you?” Sirius teased, theatrically throwing open her curtains, allowing light to flood into the room for the first time in days.

“We’re on damage control. Y’know, since we haven’t heard from you in almost a week.” Remus explained, heading straight into the kitchen and flicking the kettle on.

Y/N sighed heavily, feeling a pang of guilt for having shut off herself off from her friends after her recent break up. The end of her relationship had hit her harder than she had ever anticipated, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. She hadn’t felt up to facing her friends properly. She had shot them a quick message briefly explaining the situation before shutting off her phone and finding solace in her own company as she grappled with the emotional fallout.

Remus busied himself in the kitchen while he waited for the kettle to boil. He had a tea towel swung over his shoulder as he started washing the dishes that had been piling up in the sink. James was getting the living room straight, opening windows, clearing up the endless piles of scrunched up tissues and fluffing up the sofa cushions.

“You don’t have to do all this – I'm fine!” Y/N protested.

“Stop fussing and just let us help you,” Sirius chimed in, poking his head around the doorway from where he was in the bathroom, “Now, get in here because I’ve just run you a bath.”

Y/N’s protests died on her lips as she relented, allowing herself to be guided into the bathroom by Sirius’s firm but caring insistence. The soothing scent of lavender filled the air as she stepped into the room. Sirius shut the door behind her, allowing some privacy. He had set her some fresh towels and clean clothes on the side, even going as far as to light a few candles. Y/N let out a sigh as she sank into the tub, the warm water washing over her tired body.

After a while, Y/N emerged from the bathroom feeling a bit lighter. She smiled at the three boys, appreciating their practical gestures of support. They had practically cleaned her whole apartment while she was in the bath. It had taken a bit of a hit in the week that she had been moping around. Remus had set her a steaming mug of tea on the coffee table, and she took it into her hands eagerly.

“Feeling better?” he asked, patting the spot on the sofa next to him.

“Much better. Thanks for the rescue” she smiled at each of them, “I owe you guys one.”

“Nonsense.” James dismissed with a wave of his hand, “That’s what friends are for. Plus, I’ve been dying to bring out my superhero cape.”

Remus snorted into his tea, “Superhero cape? More like a tea towel tied around your neck, mate.”

“Hey, it’s all about the dramatic effect, Moony. You should try it some time.” James mock-glared at him.

“I’d pay good money to see that.” Y/N laughed.

“You nearly did!” Sirius remarked, “I literally had to pry it from around his neck before you got out of the bath.”

Y/N burst into laughter at the mental image, shaking her head in amusement, “I can only imagine the heroic struggle.” She said, grinning at James, who rolled his eyes with a good natured sigh.

“Yeah, well, it was a valiant effort on his part,” James admitted, earning a playful elbow jab from Sirius.

It was the first time in a good week or so, that Y/N had laughed properly. She felt her spirits lift with each passing moment, the heaviness that had weighed in her heart for the last week beginning to fade. Their light-hearted banter and playful antics had a way of lifting her spirits, offering a welcomed distraction from her recent troubles. It was only when the boys stood up to leave that the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach started to return.

Sirius noticed her face fall when they started getting ready to leave, each of them shrugging on their coats and slipping into their shoes.

“Don’t worry, we’re coming back.” Sirius reassured her.

“Yeah, you didn’t think that you could get rid of us that easily, did you?” Remus chuckled.

“We’ve just got to nip out to get some stuff but then we’ll be back.” James promised.

“What stuff?” she questioned.

“Ask us no questions and we’ll tell you no lies.” James quipped, playfully tapping her on the nose before swiftly exiting.

A bemused smile played on her lips as she watched her friends disappear. Although they had only been around at her flat for a few hours, it felt eerily empty now that they had gone. Collapsing onto the sofa, she reached for her phone, hesitating before finally switching it on after days of deliberate avoidance. There was the expected flurry of messages from her friends and family checking in on her and she made a mental note to reply to them later on. She quickly deleted a particularly nasty text from her ex before she gave herself chance to read it properly. As the screen blinked back up at her, the date glared back with unexpected significance.

Valentine’s Day.

The realisation hit her and stirred up memories and emotions that she had been trying to suppress. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness as she thought back to past Valentine’s Day spent with her now ex-partner. For a moment, she regretted even switching on her phone; ignorance might have been bliss on a day like today. Tears prickled in her eyes and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to hold back the flood of emotions.

Just as she had been earlier that morning, she was brought back to reality by the door of her apartment swinging open and James, Remus and Sirius bustling back inside.

“Told you we wouldn’t be long!” James said brightly, though the look soon dropped from his face the second his eyes fell on Y/N.

“Oh, no! What’s happened? Everything okay?” Sirius rushed over and crouched in front of her, so his face was level to where she was slumped on the sofa.

“It’s silly,” she sniffled, “I turned on my phone because obviously I’ve been avoiding it for ages and I saw the date. It’s just... overwhelming.”

Remus moved to sit beside her, his presence a comforting anchor as he place a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not silly at all, Y/N. Valentine’s Day can be shit. Especially after everything you’ve been through.” he said softly, offering her a sympathetic smile.

James signed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped closer, “We came over today because... well we didn’t want you to spend Valentine’s Day alone. We didn’t realise that you didn't even know what day it was. We’ve kind of fucked up really, haven’t we?”

“Don’t be daft.” Y/N wiped the tears away with her sleeve, “You’ve already cheered me up so much just by being here.”

“Let’s not stop now then, eh?” Sirius said, patting her affectionately on the head as he stood up, “We’ve got plenty more planned for this evening. Why don’t you go get yourself freshened up while we get set up in here?”

Y/N smiled gratefully and obliged, making her way to the bathroom. She splashed her face with cool water, letting it wash away the remnants of tears that clung to her skin. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she forced a smile onto her face in an attempt to make herself feel better. She quickly ran her hands through her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her clothes.

In the other room, the boys had sprung to action. James rummaged through the bags of shopping, his brows furrowed in concentration as he set about preparing dinner. Remus, ever the organiser, rearranged the furniture to create a cosier and more comfortable set up for them. Sirius, with his flair for the dramatic, set about lighting candles and pulled an assortment of decorations from his bag to add a festive touch to the occasion.

As Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes widened in surprise at the transformation that had taken place in the living room. The warm glow of candlelight danced across the walls, casting soft shadows across the room. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes and with a shaky breath she made her way to join them.

“Speechless, huh?” Sirius joked gently, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Y/N managed a watery smile, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Nothing needs to be said.” James stepped in from the kitchen, floral apron tied around his waist.

“Just know that we’ve got your back always, yeah?” Remus chimed in.

With a grateful nod, Y/N settled into her seat at the table, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

“Nice apron, James.” Y/N teased, unable to contain her laughter.

“What can I say? Real men wear floral.” he quipped, setting down plates of food in front of each of them.

“Ah! I almost forgot!” Sirius stood up quickly from the table and disappeared into the other room.

He returned a few moments later, holding a bouquet of flowers. He presented them to her with a flourish. Y/N gasped in response.

“You really didn’t have to!” she protested, her voice filled with gratitude, “You’ve already done so much for me today!”

“We wanted to.” Remus smiled.

“Besides, we’d be pretty crappy mates if we let you go a whole Valentine’s Day without flowers.” Sirius chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s practically a cardinal sin to neglect such an important tradition.” Remus nodded in agreement.

“See? We’re not completely useless, are we?” James nudged her, grinning.

“Nah, you’re not half bad.” she beamed back at them, “I might even go as far as to say that you’re the best.”

#marauders x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders fluff #poly!marauders #platonic marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders

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iced-nct · 6 months

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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

445 notes · View notes

caxde · 1 year

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dark honey | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, working on the new café next to Family Video and being best friends with Steve is your day to day, until feelings start to blossom one late night. (6.1k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

part 2

“Just remember, I can’t pick you up today” you let out, with an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah, yeah I know, don’t worry.” Your little brother beamed up at you, his hair as wild as ever, even when it’s covered by his hat.

“‘Kay, be careful, have a good day Dust!” You scream out at the little boy running inside the old building. He just lifts his hand up, giving you a little thumbs up as he runs up to his friends.

You smile to yourself, the scene looks as though it had been picked out of a movie, the bright sun hitting you softly, the skies are blue and clear and you’ve got all of the day ahead of you. Well, not all of it was for you, you still had to go to work and whatnot, but as luck would have it, you absolutely adored your job.

The little coffee shop had opened up a month ago, and it’s not like you didn’t like stocking videos and spending time on Family Video, but truth be told, you could do with the change. Granted, it was next door, and it was slow at times, but it didn’t matter.

You parked on your usual spot, the music on your car lingering for a second as you enjoyed the last notes of the song escaping through the speakers.

Today, you were on your own, your coworker had opened for you, and was waiting for you to arrive so they could leave. They had begged you to cover for them so they could go to The University of Indianapolis and hopefully enroll onto one of their curses. Of course you agreed, you didn’t even need to know the reason, you always helped everyone, even if it meant that you would have to do a longer shift than usual, you didn’t really care as long as you felt useful.

So there you were now, the first rush was almost over, and the little coffee shop was settling now. Someone was enjoying a book quietly by the window, and two friends were having a catch up moment, chatting animatedly over their black coffee and croissants.

You turned your back to the door as you took advantage to clean a bit, the counter had some spills here and there, and your fingers seemed to be stained with the smell of the beans you had to grind.

And you knew he was there, feeling his stare on your back as he stood patiently on the other side of the counter. You felt yourself smiling before you turned to him.

It was his routine, you noticed. When you worked together he always came late and with a coffee stain on the corner of his mouth. Now he came five minutes before he had to clock in so he could say hello to you and have his coffee there, or to go if he was in a rush.

“Hi” You said, warmth in your voice.

“Hey” He said back, his head nodding at you as he pursed his lips together, his hair bouncing. “You doing okay?” You smiled as you always did before nodding at his questions. His voice was still hoarse from waking up.

You turn around, placing a to-go cup on the coffee machine, starting it as you turn back at him.

“I haven’t told you what I want yet.” He teased, the back of his hand scratching his eye, as if to get the rest of the sleep out.

“You always order the same.” You tell him, your cheeks burning from glee to get to see him, even for five minutes.

“I do not…” He scoffs, trying to sound offended, but his grin gives his happiness away.

You shake your head, turning back to finish his order, and he just stands there, fixated on the way your black shirt is tucked into your flared jeans, and how your hair falls away from your face, all falling gracefully behind you, effortless. He had once asked you how you did your hair, and when you told him that you were too lazy to do anything else that wasn’t air dry it, he was too embarrassed to tell you about his long ritual, so he lied and said he did that too. His mind was snapped away from the colourful memory as soon as he saw you smiling at him, his little to-go on your hands.

“There you go, Harrington.” You muttered as you placed it in front of him.

“Thanks, Henderson.” He smiled at you as he took the first sip.

You turned away, continuing to clean up, when you heard his exasperated sigh.

“I’m not letting you pay.” You remind him, as you look him over your shoulder, acting as if you’re too busy to actually do it.

“Someday, you’ll have to let me pay!” He insisted.

“Maybe, not today though, you’ll be late.” You tell him, nodding at the big clock on the right wall.

“Shit, you’re right.” He said, taking another rushed sip. “When are you getting off?” He asked, with the same grin he always had.

“Late, closing today.” You let him know. As he starts to walk to the door, you see how his face changes to one of concern.

“Do you want me to pick up Dustin?” You look at him, briefly before smiling at the ground in a nod, you know that he’s serious, and that he’d do it if you asked. He’d do anything really if you asked, though you didn’t know it yet.

“If you do, call him, I told him I couldn’t.” You say, gratitude obvious in your tone, his cheeks rise as he smiles at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got a break I can use.” He opens the door, and takes a second to look at you one more time. “Bye.”

“Bye Steve.” You say, more to yourself than him, as you see him rushing next door, given that his shift had started 2 minutes ago.

Even for April, it was unreasonably cold that night, and you were glad that your shift was coming to an end. You weren’t exhausted, but you’d lie to yourself if you said that you would do anything else that wasn’t going straight to your bed once you were home.

And obviously, it helped tremendously that Steve had come to sit at one of the back tables as he waited for you to finish, so you could both head home at the same time, as you used to do when you worked together.

Honestly, you didn’t work that much back then. Sure, when it was a weekend you had no time to spare, but in the weekdays you two were usually messing around, his favourite game to play with you was throwing you small crumpled up paper balls, and seeing as you failed miserably to catch most of them, and celebrating when you did. It was stupid, but it was always full of giggles. He liked the sound of your voice when he managed to make you laugh.

But now, Steve has found a new favourite past-time. He spent his time trying to find a movie you’d like, and pitching it to you when he came over his break, or when he walked to your car. He also enjoyed what he was doing now. Sitting down, acting as if he’s deep into a book, or magazine or whatever Robin had left behind, when really he was just looking at you. It was stupid and he was aware of it, but seeing you enjoy something you actually liked doing like making people coffee and teas and giving them pastries, seeing the way your voice would pitch up whenever a kid when to the counter and asked you for anything, and you’d smile deeply at them and make them laugh… He wasn’t sure why he liked doing this so much, he just let himself enjoy it, or rather, enjoy you.

It was empty now, except for him. The clock marked eight o’clock, so you walked over to the lights, shutting them off. He stood up and turned the little sign of the door, from we’re open to sorry! we’re closed. You gleaned at him as he rested against the door, waiting for you to finish up. One final wipe of the counter, the glass cabinet was spotless, the coffee grinder was clean and it all smelled good. You took off your apron and folded it, keeping neatly for tomorrow.

You smiled as you relaxed your shoulders, happy to be done, you looked at him, while he opened the door for you, and he waited beside you as you closed. You started walking, as he started talking about a new movie that had just arrived, and how you will definitely like this one, you grined up at him, as you shaked up a shiver out of your body. He stopped immediately.

“You’re shivering?” He asked, looking down at you, his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket.

“It’s alright, I’ll get in the car and I’ll warm up.” You try to brush it off, but you see how his frown appears, and you start shaking your head no, when you see him take his hands out. “Steve, my car’s right there, it’s okay.” You try to negotiate with him, to no avail, he had already made a decision on his mind.

“You always get sick.” He says, placing his jacket on your shoulders, and playfully pushing you to continue walking.

“Thanks.” you say, your voice quieter than usual.

You’re unsure why, but something in you warms up by that. Is it the fact that he knows you well enough to know that you’re easily sick? Or is it how he had bent down ever so slightly and placed the jacket carefully over you? You’re not sure and you don’t care, you’re just grateful he’s there, and that you can spend some more time with him.

Maybe that’s why you’re not really paying attention anymore.

Maybe you’re just too focused on the review of the movie he desperately wants you to see, or maybe it's the way his profile looks with the street lights shining behind him. However, you’re glad he’s there.

And maybe that's why you don’t realise the way your foot had bent over a rock that you hadn’t seen. Not only did you now have a sprained ankle, but you almost fell to the ground. If it weren’t for him. And the way his hand had reached out for you, and how his arm had wrapped around your waist in one smooth swoop.

You weren’t sure if your heart was beating fast because you thought you were falling, or because Steve was holding you close.

And he wasn’t sure either.

He just knew that he thought you were going to hurt yourself, so he needed to make sure you didn’t, so he just grabbed you as close and as tight as he could. His hand was on your waist, and for some reason he was the one short of breath.

His eyes looked deep into yours, as your chest raised up and down faster than before, he gave you a half smile, as he helped you to your feet again. Now you were grateful the sun was going down, since you could feel the burning on your cheeks, growing pink by the second.

His hand lingered on the small of your back for a moment too long as he made sure you could stand up okay on your own.

“Are you okay?” He said, his voice hardly above a whisper, still looking attentively at you.

You can’t help but laugh a bit, maybe nervously, maybe because you don’t really know what to say.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking up at him, his brown eyes looking at you, you can see the worry wash away from them as you smile at him. “Good catch.”

That makes him laugh and you know that everything is fine now.

But you still don’t understand why his touch has left your skin burning, or why you can’t seem to fall asleep once you're on your bed, why every time you close your eyes you see his eyes looking deeply into yours, and you remember his touch.

“You’ll pick me up today?” Dustin asked, sitting on the passenger sit, with his usual up-beat tone.

“Mmh, yeah.” You replayed lazily, sleep still present on you.

“You shouldn’t be driving if you’re still asleep.” He remarked, at witch you scoffed, head tilting a bit as you focused on the red light.

“You’re not driving.” You glanced at him, his mischievous grin on his face made you laugh at his direction.

“Soon enough.” He chirped. You notice how his eyes focus up for a second, as a thought seems to worry him.

“Spit it out Dustin.” You tell him, as the light changes from red to green.

“Can my friends come today?” YOu scrunch your eyebrows in response, not really understanding why he was asking you.

“Did you ask mom?”

“Mom’s going away with Hank.” You chuckle at him, and the aversion he seemed to have with the older man.

“Hot Hank?” You tease him, as you see his face scrunching up at your words.

“Eww. You’re disgusting!”

“Come on! Mom’s got a hot boyfriend” You tell him, closing distance with the school now.

“Gross.” He mutters as he hears you laugh, your right hand brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?”

“What?” His eyebrows lifted as he looked at you, fear and curiosity on his face.

“Dusty, I do not.” You tell him, as you fail to park your car for the first time.

“But you like someone?” He kept pushing for an answer, and if you were honest, your rosy cheeks didn’t exactly help you right now.

“Oh yes, his name is David, he’s a singer from britain…” you begin to mock him, in an attempt to distract him.

“Okay, okay… So can they come?” He asks you, his eyes looking at you through his baseball cap.

“Yeah, sure. Do you need anything from the store?” You ask as you celebrate that you have finally parked the car successfully.

“Just some snacks and stuff like that.”

“Okay kid, am I taking anyone else home later?”

“Oh, I dunno.” You nodded at him, as he opened the door, running away as he does every morning, leaving you with an upside down smile.

When Dustin had asked if his friends could come over, you expected four high schoolers squatting on your couch. What you didn’t really expect was a party of seven boys invading your living room, pulling chairs together, surrounding the dining table with papers scattered, dice, figurines, and everything that had the word nerd written all over them. Eddie had mouthed a sorry at you as soon as he had crossed the door, seeing you shocked at the amount of people that were now in your home, completely ruining your plan to just sit on your couch and enjoy your free afternoon, catching in some of the movies that Steve had insisted that you watch.

However, you were grateful you had bought snacks and everything Dustin had suggested. You weren’t aware of just how hungry they get.

You decided that hiding in the kitchen might be your best shot, if you wanted some peace and quiet. You were bored out of your mind, and didn’t really know what to do, so you did what you always did, you scavenged around your cabinets to see what you could find, some activity that would distract you long enough.

You're unaware of your surroundings once you’ve decided to start baking. You had some leftover flour, some brown sugar and a little packet of yeast, you knew you could make something with that. You walked to your fridge, where some eggs, vanilla extract and chocolate was there. Okay then, you think to yourself, chocolate cookies it is.

You were so deep in thought that you jumped when you saw him there all of a sudden. Bouncing a bit once you find him there, resting on the side of your kitchen door.

“Shit.” You mutter, looking at the ground, and being relieved that you didn’t drop the egg.

“Sorry.” Steve said in a soft-spoken voice, raising his hands in an apologetic movement.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting you here.” You let him know, closing distance with the counter, dropping the rest of the ingredients.

“Well if I’m not welcome I’ll just go” You know he’s teasing you, that Steve Harrington smirk gave him away, and your soft smile made his shoulders drop.

“I didn’t know you were in Hellfire.” You tell him, as you search for the measuring cup, avoiding his eye contact.

“I’m not”

“Oh, then… What are you doing here?”

What was he doing here? If he was honest with himself, he just wanted to come over and spend time with you, he missed you. He kept telling himself that you're his friend, and that that’s all there is, but deep down, he knew that his fingertips still burned every time he thought about how close you two were a week ago, and how he had held you tight and close.

“You weren’t working, so I guessed you uh… Where home?” He seemed to ask it more to himself than you, as you look over at him, you see how he’s scratching the back of his neck nervously. You knew him well enough, but refrained from telling him anything else, nodding at him with a soft smile.

“Well I’m here so…” You pointed at the little chair you had laying about, so he could sit beside you. Making him shorter once he sat down, so he was the one looking up at you now.

“So, what are we baking?” He chirped, which made you giggle.

“You’re banned from baking Harrington.” You teased him, as you pointed at him with the empty measuring cup, the flour and sugar already in the bowl.

“I only burned one cake!” He tried to argue, his eyebrows raised.

“And that’s one too many!” You rebutted, laughing animatedly. He seemed to melt, as he hid his head behind his hands, stifling his own laugh. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Deal.”

You nod as you start biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t been this close with Steve since the failed fall, and you could feel how the hairs of your arms raised every time his body came a bit too close.

And it was confusing.

You had him chopping up some of the chocolate bar, and when his body pressed into yours to dunk the small pieces into the sweet mixture, you felt it again, that shortness of breath, that electricity, and that tingling, it was there, contaminating the air.

Steve felt it too, but in his defense, he had never been able to see your eyes from that distance, and he had not appreciated enough how your hands were delicate and skilled at everything they did.

The cookies were now formed and in the oven, and you felt a new sense of achievement. You smiled deeply at him. Steve looked down at you with his eyes deeply focused on the way your lips curved, he raised his hand and you high fived it instinctively, what he did later however you didn’t mind or were going to stop it.

Even Steve didn’t know why his fingers decided to tangle with yours, or why his eyes were locked into them, feeling how soft your skin was, and enjoying your touch, the softness of it. They fitted, he taught, like a puzzle that had just been completed. He also liked that your thumb had begun a short pattern on the back of his hand, caressing him a bit. And if he wasn’t so focused on looking at your intertwined hands, he might have noticed how your cheeks were now warm and pinkish now.

“Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie’s voice coming into the kitchen, and you both let go all of a sudden, both embarrassed at the moment you had just shared.

“Hey, M” you replayed, your voice shaking ever so slightly, just enough for Steve to notice and for him to grin at the ground. “What’s up?”

“Um-” He took a moment, a second really to let his eyes wander between the both of you, as you nervously scratched your forehead with your index finger. “We’re almost done with the campaign.” He lets you know. “And we’re playing tonight at the Hideout, wondering if you wanted to come?”

“Oh sure Eddie, I’ll be ready.” You blurb out, trying to get him to leave, not really thinking of the boy next to you, nor registering the way he was now biting the inside of his cheek trying not to blurt out a very loud what?

“Great.” He smirks, as he taps away at the door frame, his rings clinging at the touch. “Oh, the cookies smell great by the way.” He says as he rushes back to the living room.

“Thank you, M.”

“Guess I’ll go now.” Steve mutters, and you squint at him, not understanding why he sounds hurt.

“What-Why?” You're even more confused now, seeing that he also looks hurt.

“I don’t feel like going to The Hideout, and seeing you looking at Eddie all night long.” He scoffs, you immediately roll your eyes, and shake your head ever so slightly.

“What are you on about Steve?” You’re starting to get upset at him, not really following him.

“Nothing, I just rather stay home tonight, okay?” He’s cold now, and you’re in shock. Not really understanding or following what’s going on.

“Oh, uhm… okay?” You half ask as you see him head to the door. Staying hopeful. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

It’s not that you were mad. Or confused.

Honestly, you were just uncomfortable.

You hadn’t taken time to process anything that had happened in such a short time, though you suppose it hadn’t been that short.

You had known Steve ever since you started middle school. You had been close friends, best friends even for as long as you can remember, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through your veins, or the way he had left all of a sudden after holding your hand so softly, but something was clear in your head now, you were sure you liked him.

To make matters worse, Eddie had pointed it out on the ride here.

He told you that he didn’t know Steve for that long, but that he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen him so shy around anyone but you. You scoffed it off, and told him to fuck off.

But now that you were four beers deep, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his stupid eyes, and his stupid smile. You had been sitting down at the bar for some time, and the friendly bartender was keeping you company, he had told you that Corroded Coffin was running late, and that they wouldn't probably play for another hour.

You weren’t sure you could wait that long, but then again, Eddie had been your ride.

“Hey…” Eddie’s voice was coming from behind you, and you turned around slowly, in a faze.

“Eddie” You chirped, looking at him, you realised that the alcohol had finally taken over your body, so you were more giggly than usual.

“I’m sorry” He muttered, his head slightly tilted so his bangs were out of the way. “I think we’ll play later than we thought.”

“S’fine” You blabbered, as you moved your hand at him, bumping his chest in a playful manner. “Maybe I’ll go home, that’s fine?” He nodded, with a laugh.

“You’ll be hungover tomorrow.” He joked, nudging you back.

“Mmh, you bet.” You jumped from your stool until you reached the ground. “Bye Edds!” you said, heading for the exit.

“Wait, you’ve got someone to drive you home?” You shook your head no. “It’s raining, like a lot, and you live so far away…” He tried to explain to you, slowly, knowing that your brain was working slower than usual.

“I’ll take a call, just second.” You turn around, the friendly bartender already pointing you at the direction of the little telephone post on the beat up wall. “Aw, thanks.”

Once you had the handset on your hand, and you were dialing the number, you began biting the inside of your cheek, you were half ashamed that his number had popped out so fast into your mind. You hoped he didn’t mind.

“He-Hello?” He sounded half asleep, his voice croaky and soft.

“ ‘m sorry.” You let out.

“Shit, are you okay?” You could feel the panic in his voice, you didn’t want him to worry.

“Yeah, I just, I don’t wanna be here anymore, and I… yours’s the only number I remember.” You were slurring your words together now.

“Are you still in The Hideout?” He asked, trying to remain calm.

“Mmmh.” You muttered, his voice seemed to belong there, right by your ear.

“I’ll be there in no time ‘kay?”

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice now beginning to break, feeling remorse and anxious for making him worry, for having called him. “I just..-”

“I know, just stay there, I’m coming to get you okay, honey?” Honey

“M’kay.”

You could only hear the cut out line now through the receiver, but it still rang on your ears. honey honey honey.

As soon as he had heard your voice on the receiver his heart had stopped for a second, worry leaked into his body. Maybe it was irrational, because he knew you were safe regardless. But for some reason, knowing wasn’t enough, he needed to make sure, he needed to see you and see that you weren’t too far gone.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t realise that he has sprinted out of his house with his old checkered pajama pants, and his faded out Hawkins High shirt. That he has mismatched socks and his shoes aren’t all the way in, with his heel out. He only realises the state that he’s in once he tries to open the car, his keys jingling on his hands, and his socks now damp from the wet pavement that the pouring rain has left, he doesn’t care that his hair is wet, or that his shirt is colder now. Your voice is the only thing he’s got on his mind, how you sounded shy and uncomfortable, how you mumbled out words in your most sincere tone.

How he had to cut you off before you told him something you didn’t mean.

How he hated that he wanted to tell you something he might regret.

It was hopeless.

As soon as he arrived at The Hideout, and saw you out against the wall, covered from the rain he knew, deep down, that his feelings for you had changed. His jaw unclentched, his shoulders relaxed, and his breathing was back to normal. He was calm once he saw you, and your eyes seemed brighter once you realise he was there.

With his brown hair wet, sticking to his face, but the kindest look in the way he looked at you, you rushed inside the car, relived that he camed, and thankful for the warmth that escaped the ventilation system from his BMW.

Your cheeks have been hurting for a while. Warmth in them.

Steve had drove you home, and then back to his when you told him you didn’t want to go back home tonight.

You hadn’t said anything, and he already had some old spare gym shorts and a sweatshirt out for you.

“Here.” You’re unsure you’ve ever heard his voice that soft.

Your hand travels up to meet his, that same electricity growing bigger between you, from the tip of his finger that touched the back of your hand, to your whole entire body as you looked at him through your eyelashes. His eyes seemed bigger, and his lips pinker.

“Uh, I-”

“You can take a shower… I’ll uh…” He’s lost once again, his heart beating faster than ever before.

You find yourself not really speaking. You nod at him with some confusion in your mind. The hot shower helps in a way.

Your body is relaxed at last, but your mind still feels like it needs to be ironed out. You’re pretty sure you know why this is happening, but you’re scared to even think of it, because if it is true you’ll just complicate it all. If you really think that your skin tingles every time he brushes it, you’ll have to admit to yourself it is because you really want him to hold you tightly, and that you’re curious as to the way his chest looks under his shirt, and that you wonder how his lips would feel against your own skin.

It all smelled like him. The expensive shampoo he had made your hair feel softer, and you find yourself daydreaming about how it would feel to run your fingers through his, as you brush yours out. His sweatshirt, his towels, it made you dizzy for the first time.

But coming back to the kitchen and seeing him cooking up something for you, while he hummed some song you didn’t quite understand, almost took your breath away. You could feel how your lips curled upwards, and how your cheeks started to warm up again.

You're back in a daze, and it might be him coming to pick you up, or maybe it’s him taking care of you, or actually it’s what you’ve come to realise. You’re falling for him.

It doesn’t really matter, because you can always blame the alcohol, so you just approach him, and hug him tightly from behind.

Your hands around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, your face buried into him, breathing him in.

His heart skips a beat as soon as he feels your hands around him. He’s beaming, and his smile deepens when he feels your thumb rubbing his stomach in a soft motion. It gets worse when he feels the way you nuzzle your face into his back, a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Hey” He whispered, afraid that if he moved you’d pull away.

“Hi” You answered, speaking just as softly as he did. “What’re you doing?” You mumbled against his skin, moving a bit so he could actually hear you.

“Oh- Uhm… I just, I thought that you’d be kinnda hungry so…” You can’t help yourself from giggling, your head poking out, arms still around him.

“Mac and Cheese?” You ask, your voice higher in pitch, once you see the empty Kraft dinner box laying on the counter.

“Well, I’m not that good at cooking, but this is easy enough to make.” He tries to convince you as he keeps stirring the pot.

He finally turns around, his head looking down at you. The dim light of the kitchen makes his eyes have the colour of dark honey, and you’re close enough to him to count his beauty marks if you wanted to. You realise you’re still holding him, you don’t want to pull away, and he doesn’t want you to either. Your breath shortens when you see his hand approaching your face, placing a strand of damp hair behind your ear, you can’t help yourself.

“You’re pretty.” You tell him, voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, and he seems to forget that he’s supposed to keep stirring the pot for a second.

He knows you’re not lying. But it doesn’t stop him from not believing you.

“You’re drunk.” He replies, hiding a nervous laugh. But it stays with him. pretty.

“And you’re still pretty.” You let out in a short laugh. He shakes his head with a soft smile, turning back to the stove as he finishes what he was doing.

You had realised it before, but he really is beautiful. Sure, handsome could also be used, but the word pretty seemed to fit him better. Steve’s soft and kind, and warm. Boys that are handsome are always cold and rough and mean.

“Eat up, Honey.” He whispers as he hands you a hot plate, his hand brushing yours as you grab it.

There it was again, honey.

Every time this word leaves his lips it sounds sweet, and calming, and full of care for you.

“You should have some too, s’good.” You let out as soon as you try it. He just giggles and nods, serving a plate for himself.

You eat quietly, stealing glances from time to time. Smiling when you catch the other staring, and giggling while asking a soft what. It didn’t matter, and it didn’t need to be said, but it was clear that both of you were starting to change, Steve had it clear in his mind. He has absolutely fallen for you.

You, on the other hand, didn’t feel drunk anymore, the beers had washed away a long time ago, and you felt in an absolute daze every time you look over at him, you know that this feeling in your chest of vertigo and excitement was just a sign, a warning one, a i could love you if you let me kind of feeling that you weren’t sure you could verbalize.

It comes out when you have to go to sleep.

You had slept in his bed a hundred times before, countless sleepovers with and without Robin where you shared that space, but for some reason, both of you knew this was different.

You always ask him to hug you until you fall asleep, but you had never felt your chest about to burst before asking. And even if your voice shakes a little, you manage to ask him, softly.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you hug me?” He nods as soon as he hears your question.

He pulls his body closer to yours, opening his arms so you’ll rest your head on his chest. He waits for your leg to land above his waist, pulling him in as you always have done, so he can pull you in. Only this time, every caress, every touch that your skin makes with his seem to ignite another part of his body, goosebumps appearing. His hands get buried in your hair, and your fingers get stuck doodling something on his chest.

“Did you use my shampoo?” He lets out with a soft laugh as soon as the familiar scent hits his nose.

“Yeah, fabregé… Didn’t know you were this fancy.” You tease him, feeling how his heart beats, a soft lullaby.

“Yeah well… You haven’t seen the Farrah Fawcet hair spray.” He mumbles, playing with your hair. He knew that would make you chuckle, and he smiles when he hears the noise escaping from your lips, wondering how you sound in other circumstances.

“Farrah Fawcet?” You move your head up to look at him, a soft grin on his lips.

“Yeah.” He nods as he says. The hand that was in your hair is now holding your face, his thumb stroking your jawline softly, playing with your bottom lip when it comes into contact.

You feel how fast his heart is beating, which can only mean that he can tell how loud yours is. He's lost in your eyes, you're lost in his lips.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

You need a second longer to take him in for a second, he looked angelic with the street lights that creeped from his window. And you’re sure your heart had just skipped a beat.

“I really want to kiss you.” You tell him.

“I really want to kiss you too.” He reassures you, his eyes twinkling with sincerity. “But you’re drunk.”

“ ‘m not.” You try to plea, but deep down, you know he’s right.

You feel his hand pulling you closer to him, and his lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead. He stays like that, enjoying you, taking it all in, trying to talk even with a knot in his throat.

“If you wake up tomorrow and you still want me to kiss you, I will.” He whispers.

You nod, pulling away enough so you could look at him. You’re unsure as to why he’s being so careful around you.

“Steve?” A calm sleepy tone left your voice.

“Honey?” He asked as you rested your head in his chest again, his hand still on the crook of your neck.

“Will you kiss me tomorrow?”

“I’ll kiss you anytime you ask me to.”

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3 part 2

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harlowsbby · 7 months

Text

Morning Routines

“I can’t believe I’m up this early.” Jack groaned and leaned against the countertop in your shared bathroom.

“You said you wanted to get up with me.” You laughed and handed him his toothbrush as well as your toothbrush before putting toothpaste on it.

Ever since you did your nighttime routine with Jack he’s been trying to wake up to do your morning routine with you and since he had a few days off he decided to wake up today and do it with you which he knew he’d regret soon enough.

“So what do you usally do first? Besides brushing your teeth.” He asked and placed down his toothbrush once he was finished brushing his teeth.

“Usually I’d take a shower but I already did that last night so I usually drive over to Starbucks and get some coffee.” He nodded.

“Sounds easy enough.” You smirked. “But you’re gonna be ordering my drink for me instead.” He groaned because you knew you did the most when it came to your orders.

“Babe, you know you have the most complicated orders right?”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your jacket and slippers and headed outside to Jack’s car.

“You wanted to be apart of my morning routine so stop nagging and let’s go.” You told him and got inside the car.

“I just know I’m going to regret this.” He mumbled to himself and got inside the car, on the drive there you had told him your order.

The entire time Jack made sure to repeat your order over and over again in his head but when he pulled up to the speaker box it was if the entire order was no longer memorizable.

“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you today?” The lady sweetly asked. Jack looked at you and back at the speaker box and gulped he had no idea what he was getting.

“Can I get a.. can I get shit.” You covered your mouth to stop yourself from laughing.

“I’m sorry sir but we don’t have that here.” The lady joked making Jack’s cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, can I get a strawberry latte iced coffee.” You looked at him as if he had three heads.

“Jack, you’re kidding right? What even is that.” His eyes went wide. “I mean no I don’t want that.” He quickly told the lady.

“Do you need a minute sir?” The lady spoke.

“No it’s okay I think I got it now.” He quickly turned back to you.

“Babe, can you repeat your order.” You decided to give him a break and leaned over him a bit to give the lady your order.

“I just need a iced white mocha with sweet cold foam please.”

“And what size?”

“A grande please and thank you.”

“Alright we’ll see you at the window.” Lady said.

Jack’s cheeks were red from embarrassment as he pulled forward. “I have a feeling you enjoyed watching me struggle.” He stated.

“I did but it was very cute that you tried.” You coo’d.

Once you got your drink the two of you headed back come where you usually played music and started cleaning up the house.

“Separate your clothes from my clothes and make sure the whites and separated from the colors.” You were putting Jack on laundry duty. “Why can’t I wash everything together? Wouldn’t that make it much more easier.” He asked.

“Jack, are you being serious right now? If you put white clothing with colored clothing it’ll turn the whites all different types of colors especially with the pink and red clothing.”

“You know if you help me it’ll make this entire process go even faster.” You huffed. “I don’t get help when you’re out on tour or at the studio all day, I have to do this all alone and so can you.”

“Well what are you going to do?” He asked and you smiled. “I need to catch up on a few shows so when you’re done you’ll know where to find me.” You palce a kiss on his lips and went into the living room.

He stood there in disbelief for a few seconds but nonetheless started working on the laundry when he was finally done he groaned at how stiff his muscles left.

“Baby, I’m done with the laundry I’m hungry you wanna go get some food.” When you didn’t answer he made his way into the living room.

“Bab-.” He stopped talking when he saw your sleeping form on the couch. A bag of now empty chips laid on your chest.

He smiled and shook his head at you. “You’re something else you know that.” He whispered to himself and removed the bag of chips and placed a blanket over you.

Although Jack would never admit it, he actually enjoyed spending time with you and learning your little routines that make you, you.

(This is kinda like a sequel type thing from the night routines I did, idk where I was going with this but I hope you like it 😭💘)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n

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bedsyandco · 4 months

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

🫧 — {fem!bsf!reader x dad!brock boeser}

🫧 — my first time writing for brock!! I hope you like it, as always feedback is appreciated !!

🫧 — in which your Brock’s best friend and the lines are blurry because you act like more both to him and his son.

🫧 — content: sfw, a little person, fluff

🫧 — wc: 2.35K

You were staring out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass of your coffee shop. The place was buzzing with people only minutes earlier, everyone wanting a hot drink to shield them from the stretch of bad weather that impacted the city these last few days, although that’s quite normal this time of the year. The buzz had died down and you were grateful since you just cleaned the floor, and didn’t look forward to having to do it again if someone else entered through the door with their wet shoes, the welcome mat at the entrance seeming to not do its job very effectively.

Your attention quickly shifted when you heard your phone ring and grabbed it out of your back pocket, heart beating a little faster when you saw who was calling.

“Vancouver Academy Preschool”

You had spent hours teasing Brock about how uptight this school sounded. It was preschool for crying out loud, and both you and Brock went to public school and turned out just fine, but he wasn’t budging. Only the very best for his boy. You didn’t feel a single trace of amusement seeing the name now though, only anxious as to why they could be calling.

“Good Afternoon, is this Brooks’ mom, YN speaking?” a woman's voice echoes over the speaker.

“Uh- that’s me but I’m not-”

“Oh thank goodness, we weren’t able to get in contact with his father, I’m glad I could at least reach one of his parents.” she continues, interrupting you before you could correct her that you weren’t Brooks’ mom. Brock was still at the rink, that’s probably why he wasn’t answering. “I’m Brooks’ teacher and I’m calling because there was an accident at school today and we were wondering if you would be able to come pick Brooks up from school?”

Your throat constricts a little at what she's saying, not being able to comprehend the words Brooks and accident in one sentence. “An accident? What accident? Is he hurt?” you ask frantically, questions flying one after the other.

“He’s perfectly fine ma’am. He had a little fall and bumped his head. There was a little scratch but we had our school nurse clean it up and check him out, but we thought since there were only a few hours left of school anyway and he seemed a bit upset, it may be better if he just went home for the day.”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, seeing that it was only noon. You had another four hours to work at most, but you also knew that Brock probably wasn’t going to see the school’s messages before then and you couldn’t leave Brooks at school until then. The thought of him hurt and upset was enough to make you remove the apron from your waist and say, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Sounds serious,” you hear from your left seeing Lydia, one of your waitresses standing there.

“It was Brooks’ school. I need to go pick him up. I know it was your day to leave early but do you think you can stay until closing time? If you really can’t we’ll just close up early today,” you ramble, moving to grab your coat and searching for your keys.

“Of course, don’t even worry about it, I’ll close up.” she says

“I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t even try to apologise. You do what you need to for your kids, I get that.” and she did. Having two kids of her own.

“I know but he’s not even really mine. Not biologically at least. It’s not the same and I know this was your Friday to leave early,” you say remorsefully.

“Stop that. He’s yours in every way that matters. If I’ve ever seen anyone be a mom to that little boy, it’s you.” she says and your eyes sting a little and you have to blink up at the ceiling for a minute to stop them from falling.

“Thank you. I owe you one, I’ll see you Monday?” you ask and make your way out the door when she nods.

How you ended up in this situation, you honestly had no idea. It hadn’t been your intention to end up having your name registered as a parental contact. But you did feel an immense sense of warmth that Brock trusted you enough to do it.

Brock had been your friend for many years, and when Brooks came into the world, he only brought you closer. You would have never wished for Brooks’ mom to abandon him and Brock, and you would forever hold resentment in your heart for her because of that, but it did create a hole in their lives that you had somehow filled.

When you pull into the parking lot at Brooks’ school, you clench the steering wheel tightly and let out a big breath, releasing all the confusing thoughts about your role in Brooks’ life and the confusing relationship you had with his father. One day maybe you’d address those thoughts, but today isn’t that day.

You step out of the car, pulling your coat tighter around you to shield from the cold and take a little jog up to the front entrance. The receptionist immediately glanced up when you entered and sent you a quick smile.

“Hi I’m here to pick up Brooks Boeser,” you say and her eyes widened significantly, looking a lot more interested when she heard that last name and called through to the classroom. That almost would have been amusing had you not been preoccupied by your nerves about Brooks. You knew Brock paid a lot of big donations and checks that ensured him and Brooks were treated well here, and it looked like that treatment extended to you.

A door buzzes open and through comes Brooks, his hands tightly clasped on the straps of his backpack, his feet shuffling against the ground.

His eyes were red, cheeks flushed, a little bandaid on his forehead where you assumed the little scratch was. As he neared you his eyes teared up and the bottom lip started to wobble.

“Yn!” he yells, picking up his pace when he sees you and tripping into your legs, wrapping his arms around them.

“Oh my little love, did you get hurt?” You ask bending down and pushing his hair away from his forehead and gently running your fingers over the bandaid, as he nods.

“What exactly happened?” you ask his teacher who was only standing a few feet away observing the interaction.

“Brooks was playing outside with a friend and when he came back inside his shoes were wet and he ran, slipped and fell. He hit his head against a table and there’s a little scrape but as I said on the phone our nurse checked him out and he seems to be just fine. I can contact the nurse to talk with you if you’d like” the teacher says

“That won’t be necessary, I trust that everything was handled as it should be,” you say in a tone suggesting that anything else would be ridiculous since Brock spends so much money on this school.

“Brooks was so excited when he found out his mom was coming to get him,” his teacher redirects the conversation and you smile tightly at her, that word causing your throat to squeeze tightly.

You squeeze Brooks tightly, the little boy still clinging to you as if his life depended on it. You pick him up, throwing his bag over your shoulder and making your way to the door when the teacher holds it open for you.

“Thank you,” you say politely and she smiles back at you.

“Have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday Brooks,” she says as you make your way to your car.

When Brooks is tightly secured in his car seat and you’ve let the car warm up a bit, you make your way to the arena.

“Wanna go visit daddy at work?” you ask Brooks, reaching back and squeezing his foot when you reach a red light.

“Yes!” he yells and you smile at his excitement.

“He’ll be happy to see you,” you say, focusing your attention back on the road.

“Happy to see you too,” Brooks replies and you glance at him in the mirror seeing a teasing little smile on that face.

“You think so?” you ask and he nods

“Uncle Petey told dad he’s happiest when he sees you,” Brooks says matter of factly

“Have you been listening to your dad’s conversations again?” you ask and he smiles guiltily

“No. They thought I was sleeping,” he admits softly and you smile, shaking your head at him. He’s sneaky.

“Do you love my daddy?” Brooks asks and you swallow thickly thinking about it for a second. You knew Brooks was going to be asking about your friendship with his dad sooner or later, you’d just hoped it was later and that Brock was the one being asked.

You didn’t know how to say it without giving Brooks the wrong idea, and you definitely didn’t need him running back to his dad and telling him about your feelings for him. You weren’t entirely sure Brock was over what happened with Brooks’ mom. You didn’t think he was in love with her, but the way she just left and abandoned both of them still had an effect on Brock. He still hadn’t gone back to dating even after all these years.

“Of course I love your dad. He’s my best friend in the whole world.” you tell him and he smiles happily.

“Do you think my dad is pretty?” Brooks asks curiously

“He’s very pretty, just like you,” you say to Brock’s mini-me.

“My dad thinks you’re pretty too. He told uncle Quinny while you were making noodles,” Brooks says, referring to a few days ago when you cooked pasta for Brock and a few guys at his place.

“Are you two going to get married?” Brooks asks and you nearly swerve off the road.

“What made you have that idea?” you ask more calmly than you feel

“A girl in my class said that if two people love each other and think they’re pretty, they get married,” Brooks explains

“It’s a bit more complicated than that bud,” you say gently, relieved as you finally pull up to the arena.

You walk into the arena, Brooks’ hand clasped tightly in yours and wait in a little room you were directed to while someone called for Brock. You were sitting on a couch, Brooks cuddled up in your lap when Brock finally entered the room, closing the door behind him. Brock observed the two of you for a second, a strange emotion clouding his face.

“Dad! Look, I have a scratch on my head!” he says as you stand up and walk towards Brock, Brooks still on your hip.

Brock’s panicked eyes find yours before brushing Brooks’ hair away so he could inspect the little scratch more carefully, his other hand falls to your waist, pulling both of you close.

“He had a little fall, scraped his head, he’s okay. I took care of it,” you reassure him, and Brock’s shoulders relax a little bit.

Brock nods, pressing a kiss to Brooks’ forehead before moving to kiss your cheek, and your breath hitches at the intimate gesture. Brock had always been affectionate but lately he’s been doing a lot more often and openly.

“I’m gonna go grab my stuff, I’ll be back in a sec. Do you need anything?” Brock asks, his hand caressing the skin at your waist lightly.

“No, we’re fine. Go finish up,” you say and he smiles, giving you both a peck again before leaving the room again.

Later that day when you’ve got Brooks passed out in his bed, Brock joins you in the living room taking a seat on the couch, sitting as close to you as he can without actually touching you.

Brock leans his head back, letting out a trembling breath.

“He’s okay Brock. It’s just a little scratch. You know that if I suspected he wasn’t okay I would’ve taken him to-”

“I know. It’s just that you shouldn’t have to. It’s my job to take care of him and I wasn’t there.” Brock says and you sigh, moving even close to him.

“Look at me,” you insist softly, and he does, his gaze so incredibly soft and fond it makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst.

“You’re a great dad Brock. You love that little boy so much, and he knows it. You’re doing the best that you can and it’s okay to ask for help sometimes.” you say and his hand falls to your upper thigh, caressing it softly.

“It’s not fair to you,” he argues

“I love that little guy and there’s nothing I love more than taking care of him. Of both of you.” you say and Brock looks at you for a moment.

“I love you,” he confesses and you can feel a ball forming in your throat.

“I love you too,” you reply and Brock shakes his head.

“No, I love you. I’m in love with you. I always have been”

“Brock-”

“I can never bring myself to regret being with Brooks’ mom. You weren’t available back then and I was convinced you never would be, but somehow your ex managed to mess it up and you were single and I was so happy because I was finally gonna get my shot. And then Brooks happened and I love that kid to death, so I could never ever regret it, but it’s always been you.” he says softly, framing your face with both hands and kissing you softly.

“This family isn’t complete without you. I hope you know that.” Brock says, gently caressing your face when he pulls away.

“Will you stay the night?” he asks and you smile.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you answer, and a few weeks later all your things were in that house, knowing you were never leaving again.

#brock boeser fic #brock boeser x reader #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser x yn

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togenabi · 9 months

Text

waking up slow

yuta okkotsu x reader

♡—waking up with Yuta is one of your favorite things to do.

word count♡— 1k

genre♡— fluff, romance, established relationship

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— domestic fluff, living together, romance, lovers, dating, being late together, no use of y/n, shockingly not a royalty au

author's note♡— this is my very first request from anon! it's a bit short but I didn't want to drag it out too much. I mainly focused on the fluff and the uwu of it all. I hope you like it!

The scent of sheets and the warmth of the sunlight shining through the window are the first things you process when you wake up. The next is the weight of Yuuta’s arm around your waist.

Smiling contentedly, you bask in the moment before shifting to face him.

His eyes were still closed, but his eyelashes flutter and you sense that he’s coming to. You raise a hand to brush his hair away from his eyes. He wakes up slowly as you do, and a lazy smile graces his lips.

Yuuta pulls you to him, his arms firm around you and your nose is hit with a fragrance that’s so distinctly him. You let yourself be pulled closer against him and snuggle into his neck. For a moment, all you could think was how lovely it would be to have all days start this way.

Usually, mornings with Yuuta were rushed and scrambling. There always seemed to be something going on. Something that one–or, let’s be honest, both of you were late to. A meeting that slipped your mind. An urgent call for him. An event or two that you’d both rush to get to anyway, despite already being late for whatever it was.

Mornings like that had their own appeal, of course. Everything, every mundane moment was always made a thousand times more special with Yuuta. Each miniscule second was still greatly cherished. You breathe out a laugh when you remember that time Yuuta had put on mismatched socks. He didn’t even bother finding a correct pair, only hastily shoving on his shoes and kissing your cheek before he was out the door.

“Morning…” Yuuta’s voice rang in your ears. In that low, raspy tone it always was when he had just woken up. He kisses the top of your head before settling his head on the pillow again.

His expression was so calm; you had a feeling that the two of you would be falling asleep again before long. Fixing the blankets over you, your mind felt hazy as you anticipated a carefree and relaxed morning. Perhaps you could order food for brunch once you properly woke up.

Right as you were slipping into dreamland, however, Yuuta’s hold on you stiffens.

It alerts you instantly. “What’s wrong?”

Yuuta seems to try to fight the sleepiness as he forces his eyes to open. He blinks, looking deep in thought as if he’s forgotten something.

You felt the dread building in your stomach.

A few seconds of silence passes over the room. You place a hand on his arm. “Don’t tell me…”

He considers his words carefully before speaking. “It’s not... Yuuji’s birthday today, is it?”

“I don’t think so…” You try to deny it, wanting to stay in bed longer. “If it was, you’d set an alarm for that, wouldn't you?”

His face falls. You knew his answer before it left his lips.

“...I thought you did.”

The two of you spring off the bed immediately. The blankets are shoved away in a flurry, with a pillow or two falling to the ground softly. That softness being the exact opposite of your demeanor right now.

So much for a lazy morning, you think to yourself.

However, having been in situations like this makes you fall into a tried and tested routine with Yuuta. Once he heats up water for coffee, you already have the mugs out. You pick out clothes for one another while he brushes his teeth and cleans himself up. He gets your shoes while you’re the one in the bathroom, and he always knows which pair you would want to wear with your outfit for the day.

You’re ready and prepped in record time. As you give yourself a final once over in the mirror by the door, Yuuta goes to grab Yuuji’s present on the kitchen counter. When he returns, he meets your eyes in the reflection and leaves a delicate kiss on your temple.

“You look perfect.” He says, and he smiles brightly when you do.

You sigh, pretending to be exasperated. “I know.” A laugh bursts from your lips when he tries to tickle you in retaliation.

“No, Yuuta! Stop!” Still laughing, you try to capture his hands in yours. “We don’t have time for this!”

He finally relents, but pulls you to him instead. The look in his eyes is so precious, and you don’t doubt that you’re looking at him with the same gaze. You meet him halfway for a kiss, and you melt into it.

Kissing him was enchantingly perfect, a warmth blooming in your chest as if you were always meant to be with him. Your heart swells up from all that you feel and all that he gives you, but you catch yourself and pull back.

“We should be heading out.” You say, but you sound unconvincing even to your own ears.

Yuuta stares into your eyes happily for a moment. Then he nods and takes your hand as you head out the door.

“Do you have anything planned tomorrow?” He asks as you both walk at a leisurely pace.

It occurs to you that you should probably urge him to hasten his steps, but as the sunlight reflects in his eyes in that spellbinding way, you couldn’t find it in yourself to rush this moment.

“No, why?” You reply. He brings up your hand and kisses the back of it.

“I think we deserve a day of just absolutely nothing.” Yuuta’s expression was delighted, as if he was planning something more exciting than just simply staying at home together.

The feeling is contagious, nonetheless. You found yourself grinning at the idea of an uninterrupted morning with him. You remind yourself to try to wake up before him tomorrow, so you can see him in that morning glow that makes your heart flutter again.

“There’s no one else I’d do absolutely nothing with.” You give his hand a tender squeeze as you respond.

“Glad that we agree on that, then.” He beams at you, and you realized then that the sun would never hold a candle to him.

And so you went on with your day, having fun with friends and celebrating your time with them. But as the day draws to a close, all you could look forward to was waking up slowly the next day and every day after that, in the loving arms of your other half.

#yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta fluff #jjk fluff #boyfriend yuuta #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuuta x y/n #yuta okkotsu reader insert #yuuta reader insert #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu imagine #yuta okkotsu fluff #domestic au #boyfriend yuta #togenabi-yuuta-01

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transalphabf · 3 months

Text

Corruption (2000 follower special)

You are an Angel, pure, light, and always bright. It's hard for anything to take you by surprise, for you know All that is The Will of your God.

Which was why the Demon sat across from you at the coffee shop was so... Unusual.

"Um, it is a special pleasure to make your acquantaince, Mr Demonos sir, but why have you decided to sit with me today? Do you perhaps wish for me to Save you?" You asked with a bright, if uncertain smile.

The demon smiled back at you with an inhumanly toothy smile, sharp teeth glinting in the light for a moment before seemingly becoming more human again for a moment.

"Well, angel, I've been watching you for a little while now and I wanted to finally talk to you." He explained.

You blinked, confused now.

"Watching me? Why? I shan't be corrupted by you! You won't make me Fall or tempt me to the path of dismay!" You insisted, brows furrowing.

He seemed to roll his eyes for a long moment, sclera flashing black for a brief moment as the rain rolled against the window with an especially strong gust of wind.

"I have been possessed by you, from the moment I first saw you. I can See your Halo, your wings, your very Aura, and you have transfixed me!" He hissed, almost accusatory if not for the adoring undertone.

You didn't really know what to make of that, but it stirred something deep inside of you. You hadn't come across a Demon that could See your Holy aura, he was unusual in that sense.

You could See his Unholy aura too, the long, black, curved horns that ran along his head, stopping in points just below his ears. His long, pointed ears, and the long whiplike tail that swished to and fro on the floor. To the humans around you, they just saw two men, one blond, the other dark haired, one clean shaven and pretty, the other with a beard and a little scrappy looking.

"I... Am not sure what to make of that, sir. I certainly did not mean to have some affect to you." You apologised, heat rising to your cheeks.

"Come with me to my home so I may See you in your raw glory." He asked, averting his eyes, a similar heat rising in his own cheeks, bashful about your Might. You smiled, and nodded, offering him your hand, which he took in his own warm one.

It was a quick enough journey to his home, which was opulent to almost the point of gaudiness, evidence of his avarice and pride - sins you hoped to teach him to repent of once he saw your Holiness.

You stood in the centre of his living room, and he sat on the chesterfield couch, dark oxblood red leather as he sprawled and looked up at you. You allowed your eyes to close, and your mortal shell dropped, your Holy aura shining through, modern clothing dropping to the angelic robes you were comfortable with, your dappled white and silver wings catching on the light that emanated from your creamy halo.

He fell to his knees before you, staring up adoringly. You smiled at him, and held a hand out to him.

He took it, and then pulled you forward, causing you to stumble closer to him.

And then his head was under your robes, his hands gripping your thighs as he licked over your cunt.

You gasped, the heat of a tongue over your previously untouched genitalia was searing itself to your very core.

He growled quietly, and threw you down onto his couch, his own mortal shell dropping away as his leathery batlike wings spread above you, his long tail coiling around your thigh, the tip rubbing at your clit, causing you to cry out before his lips fell onto yours, his Unholy hands defiling your virginal body.

You couldn't bring yourself to dislike it.

He was everywhere, kissing and biting at your skin, shredding your robes with his clawed hands, and then smoothed his hands over your chest, admiring the smooth skin he found, before he took hold of your thighs, dragging your hips up to his face as he began to feast on your sweet cunt, long tongue pressing deep into you, touching at something that made your toes curl and your hips rocking into his face as he greedily ate you out, his tail dipping down and pressing into your ass, toying with you. You cried out, experiencing your first ever orgasm, light filling the room as you came. He moaned for a long moment, and the horns on his head seemed to become less blackened.

He then pushed your legs up to your chest and his long, inhuman cock pulsed against your cunt and up to your abdomen, promising to fill you so deeply that you didn't know what would happen.

He pressed into you, the feeling so strange, so new, so holy that you couldn't help but moan out as inch after long, agonising inch filled you, heat in your core that you'd never felt before seemed to drag out forever - until he was so deep inside of you that your stomach bulged somewhat.

And then he was moving, one fistful of feathers holding you and your wings in place, the other holding your legs against your chest, his tail toying with your clit, his demonic cock defiling your most sacred cunt.

And it felt so good, each thrust grinding up against everything you never knew you wanted grinding on. You came and came, and he kept fucking you, the pulse of his cock making you go wild - and then his cock changed shape between strokes. Where it had been mostly human shaped, it turned into a ridged tentacle, and each thrust had it pulsing and changing thickness, dragging against your hole and then seemingly giving you reprieve before changing again into being insanely thick, stretching you out.

You screamed as you came, and his batlike wings stopped being so dark and horned, becoming smoother and more supple.

Finally, his cock settled on another shape, with a bulb at the bottom that seemed to inflate and grow as he got closer to his own orgasm - his knot.

And when he knotted you, you could feel his hot demonic cum pour into your sacred, holy womb. He was defiling the most special place with his unworthy cum, but all you could think of was how good he looked being cleansed by your holy aura - and how his defilement of you had brought you from being the holiest of the angels to being more. His cum seemed to pump for minutes into you, distending your womb a little so you already looked pregnant - pregnancy wasn't something you were certain angels could experience, but if you could, he would ensure you did.

And that had you cumming again, around his enormous cock.

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amongemeraldclouds · 16 days

Text

not being romantic

Jess Mariano may be cute, possibly charming, but he is most definitely annoying. He certainly can’t hold a candle to your secret pen pal who’s smart, loves books, and aspires to be an author. Or can he?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: no use of y/n, mostly fluff, some angst, cursing, suggestiveness. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | 3.3k words

The cafe buzzed with the rush of customers lined up for their afternoon caffeine fix. Coffee machines droned on churning coffee as sunlight streamed through the windows and the smell of baked goods wafted through the air.

You smirked at Jess Mariano before you called the customer to hand them their drink. You proceeded to add another point to your scoreboard, waving your arm for emphasis. He rolled his eyes at your dramatics and hurried up, adding whipped cream to the drink he was preparing.

Everything was always a game with him. Who could get the highest amount of tips? Who could guess the new customer's coffee order? Who could make the most convincing foreign accent?

Today’s game was: who could make the fastest coffee order?

“You’ve gotten better,” he observed as you grabbed a cup for the next customer. “Aren’t you glad to have had an incredible instructor like me?”

You scoffed, “more like an incredible loser if you don’t hurry up with that order. Just because you taught me, doesn’t mean I’d go easy on you, Mariano,” you taunt, narrowing your eyes for emphasis.

He shook his head with a smile, “I expected nothing less from you.” He made his way to the other end of the counter to call the customer and handed them their drink.

Another busy shift flew by and before you knew it, it was time to close down the cafe.

You grabbed the scoreboard, beaming with pride. “I won! You can now call me the Queen of Speed, Barista Extraordinaire. Bow down before your queen.”

Jess looked up from where he was wiping the counter with a flat expression. “I’ll call you the Queen of Clean if you help me with these last few tables?”

You frowned at him and stuck your tongue out, of course he had a whole arsenal of retorts with him at any given moment. You grabbed the towel and disinfectant spray from behind the counter and moved to wipe down the tables. “You’re no fun, but I’ll let it slide since you now owe me a favor.”

“As long as I don’t have to help you dispose of a body then it’s fine,” he replied, eyebrow raised.

You rolled your eyes, “if I ever need to dispose a body, it would probably be yours.”

“Are you confessing to something you’ll commit? I don’t think that’s very wise.”

“I’m not planning anything,” you sighed, pinching your nose. The conversation was getting more and more off topic by the second. “You, however, will be the dea*h of me.”

“I’ll add you to the waitlist,” he nodded as he set aside the towel and grabbed the key, ready to close for the evening. Of course that wasn't the first time that line was directed at him.

“You’re just trying to avoid what you owe me. Stop deflecting, Mariano,” you accused, heading towards him to return the cleaning materials. “I need your help with my toaster, it stopped working and I can’t afford to get it fixed or replaced. Can you help me with that?”

“Of course, anything for the Queen of Speed,” he replied.

“You forgot Barista Extraordinaire,” you added helpfully.

Jess just shook his head as if to say, I can’t win with you. He fought the smile that threatened to break across his features. Perhaps you too had your own arsenal of comebacks.

With the final turn of the key, the door swung in and you and Jess headed into your tiny apartment. It was a studio that’s three steps away from the kitchen, five steps away from the bathroom, and ten steps away from the bed. You liked to keep it simple, minimalistic. It definitely had nothing to do with the cheap rent.

“Welcome to my apartment. It’s not much but it’s home,” you said, gesturing around the place.

“It’s cozy and it’s very you,” he remarked.

You folded your arms and stared at him, “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”

“Let me see. Second hand furniture, potted plants around the area, and the artwork looks similar to your napkin doodles. Don’t think I didn’t notice them. It’s a mosaic of different things, but you managed to tie it all together and make it work. It’s just like you to make good out of a potentially bad situation,” he observed.

“Slow down there or you’ll end up hosting shows about house tours,” you teased. “And hey, I’ll take the compliment. Who knew Jess Mariano could be nice?”

He shrugged, “I just call it like I see it.”

You took the three steps necessary to reach the kitchen. “Here’s the troublemaker, by the way. Not you, well, aside from you,” you amended and pointed to the toaster. “Not sure what’s wrong, it just stopped working.”

He approached you and it struck you just how small the kitchen was, certainly not big enough for two. When you turned to speak to him, all the words left your mind as you realized you’re only inches away from him. Heat crept up your cheeks and you blinked.

Jess smirked at your reaction, keenly aware of the effect he had to you. That cocky bastard. He leaned in a bit closer and your breath hitched. “You know, if you just wanted me over at your place, there’s a lot of other fun things I can help you with.” You scrunched your nose and took a step back, immediately transported to the area you considered your bedroom. “If that’s your way of confessing your feelings for me, it’s not very romantic at all. Thought you’d have more game than that, Mariano,” you hedged.

“Oh, that’s because I’m not trying to be romantic. If I were trying....” he said, taking a step forward, closing the distance you tried to place between you. He brushed the hair away from your cheek, the touch so unexpectedly tender coming from Jess. You took in how soft his lips looked up close.

When he touched the side of your face, your attention returned to his soulful eyes. “...I’d do something like this,” he concluded, his breath against your lips like the ghost of a kiss. That’s all it took for him to steal the breath from your lungs.

You’re disoriented when cool air greets you again as he took a step back and the only trace left is the fading warmth from where his hand caressed your cheek. “But like I said, I’m not trying to be romantic,” he shrugged.

You cleared your throat, brushing off the lingering heat of the interaction. You ignored the pang of disappointment that hit you. Besides, someone else already had your heart, this was nothing but a silly little crush. “Well can you please try to fix my toaster?” you asked, trying to stay on topic as always.

“Sure, I have tools at home. I can take it with me and bring it back when I’m done.”

You nodded, “okay thank you. Let me just grab a bag you can carry it in.”

He scanned the room while you opened the cabinet to grab a reusable bag.

“Why do you have lots of mail?” He asked, thumbing through the pile of opened envelopes on your kitchen counter.

You mulled over the question, unsure how much you wanted to share with Jess Mariano and risk a round of his teasing. Then again, you could handle Jess. “Well, there’s this guy I really like. We send each other letters. If you really want to know what romantic is, Mariano, it’s hand written letters. No one bothers to write them anymore. There’s something sweet and sincere about it.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“I’m not really sure. I got his first letter from the bookstore I frequent, the employee handed it to me and I asked him to hand back my reply. We just kept going from there, I think the mystery just adds to the romance.”

Jess shot you a worried look. “You mean to say, you’re corresponding with a complete stranger? For all you know he’s hiding his identity because he’s a stalker or a serial killer.”

“Please, he is not. He is smart, funny, and he’s writing a book. I just don’t feel like he’s that type of person.”

“You’re going off this based on your feelings? I don’t think that’s wise or safe.”

“Jess, it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about,” you replied, having had enough of him for the day. After handing him the bag with the broken toaster, you shoved him towards the door and out from your apartment, wishing him a good night.

“That was quick,” you said as you headed out of the cafe and walked towards Jess’ apartment to retrieve your now functional toaster.

Jess shrugged, “it was no big deal, just had a few loose screws to reattach. Speaking of loose screws, how about that imaginary boyfriend of yours? Finally decide to reveal himself?”

You sighed, Jess had been on your case the whole week since you told him about your mysterious crush. Needless to say, you regretted telling him about it. “No, but he hasn’t written to me recently,” you pondered. “He must be busy writing his book.”

“Or planning your untimely demise,” he retorts.

“Jess, I swear,” you grit your teeth, “I’ll be planning your untimely demise if you don’t drop it. Why do you care so much? Are you jealous? Is that what this is about?”

“Well I’m trying to look out for a coworker, why does this have to be about me? But hey, I’ll drop it,” he relented. “Besides, I won today so you owe me a favor.”

You groaned, but don’t say anything further. He won fair and square, you were ready to accept your fate.

Jess continued, “My uncle sent some food last night and I have a lot more than I can finish myself. Help me with that before you leave with your toaster?”

“Jess Mariano,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “are you asking me out for dinner?”

“No,” he quickly said and then caught himself. “We’re not going out, we’re dining in. Besides if I were being romantic, I might bring you flowers, pick you up, take you somewhere nice. So this,” he said, pointing between him and you, “is not me being romantic.”

“And there goes Mr. Defensive,” you smirked. Of course he was not being romantic, not to you. He had a hundred and one ways to tease and annoy you but never to charm you. Still, you couldn’t help the way it killed you just a little inside.

“I swear if you tell me this is where the magic happens, I will smack your head,” you deadpan as Jess opened the door to his apartment.

“Why does that turn me on?” He teased. Your face twisted in confusion and disgust and Jess laughed triumphantly, having drawn out a reaction from you. You had no idea you were adorable, he thought.

“Just welcome to my home then,” he said.

You stepped in, admiring his cozy space. You imagined a messy home with leftover containers and soda cans strewn about reeking of old laundry and faded furniture. You had little to no expectations at all.

Instead what greeted you was a small space, similar to yours. The bed was made, blanket tucked in neat corners and the furniture, while undoubtedly secondhand, was well maintained. If anything, the mismatched pillows against the pale blue sofa and the sanded down wooden table gave it personality. It smelled like subtle household cleaners and carried the scent that is so distinctly Jess, a mixture of soap and sweat, plus a hint of cologne he would never admit to wearing.

“It’s very you,” you remarked, “and I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

He shrugged, handing you your toaster, “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Thanks again for the toaster. Now there’s only one troublemaker here in this room,” you quipped as you move towards his kitchen to help him set the dinner table.

“That’s definitely you,” he replied, handing you the plates and utensils while he moved to heat up the food from the fridge. “Hand me the glasses over there?” He asked, pointing to the drawers on the opposite end.

You nodded, setting down the plates on the table and headed towards the drawer. “Well, I’ll let it slide just this time because you’re feeding me and I can’t say no to free food. Thank you Jess,” you said, a small hint of affection blooming in your chest.

You opened the first drawer and found only papers. You were about to close it to check the next drawer when the familiar edge of stationery caught your eye. It was exactly the type of paper you smiled at for hours on end, trying to memorize each word. Curiosity got the better of you and you lifted a half written letter to your eyes. A half written letter addressed to you.

A storm of emotions struck you then: confusion, hurt, and anger. All this time. The boy who weaseled his way into your heart, who called you cute in his first letter and wanted to get to know you. Who charmed you into the romantic idea of secret identities like spies undercover. Who shared your love for books and had the best recommendations that made you feel seen like no one ever has. Who spoke about his love for writing with a passion that inspired you.

All this time it was Jess Mariano.

All this time it was a lie.

Just another one of his games.

“What about those gla—” he stopped mid-sentence when he turned back and saw you reading his letter.

“Fuck,” he exhaled softly as heat crept into his cheeks.

You looked at him, fire burning in your eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Mr. Fantastic Writer?” You huffed, trying to quell the tears that threatened to choke you.

Jess opened his mouth and closed it, wanting to say a million words and failing. You watched the war raging in his head.

“Well then indeed, fuck!” You exclaimed in frustration. “And fuck you too. I know you love your games Jess, but you can’t just go around playing with other people’s feelings.”

You retreat and grabbed your things, shaking your head. “God, I feel like such a fool.”

You threw the door behind you and was a few steps away when you realized you left your toaster. Shame and betrayal marched with you as you opened his door again and found him still frozen where you left him.

“I’m just here for my toaster, which I actually need. Unlike you, I don’t need anything from you, Jess. I’ve read and heard enough,” you said, your voice wavered at the end and tears spilled down your cheeks.

You turned away from embarrassment, toaster in hand, and ran the rest of the way home. He didn’t deserve to hear your sobbing. He didn’t even deserve any of your tears. He was just a stupid boy that your stupid heart fell for. No big deal.

The next week passed in a blur. Unable to switch shifts with anyone else, you called in sick at the cafe and lived life between your university, the library, and your apartment. Never mind that you needed the pay, you could drown in instant noodles for all you cared. It didn’t matter anyway. A broken heart never cared for a full stomach.

That Friday, you were about to call it a night when the doorbell rang. The was odd, you thought, you weren’t expecting anyone.

“You’ve got the wrong—” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the last person you ever wanted to see, Jess Mariano holding a bouquet of flowers and books. If it were any other day, it might have sent butterflies to your stomach. Now all it did was fan the flames of your anger because it was much easier to be angry than hurt.

You slammed the door close but Jess stopped it with his outstretched arm. “Are you trying to get yourself injured?” You accused and you hated it, how much you still cared.

“Please, I just need to talk,” he said, pain and sincerity etched in his handsome face.

You sighed and let him in, not wanting to cause a scene at the hallway. “You have five minutes,” you held up your hand for emphasis.

“Fine, five minutes,” he breathed, steeling himself. "Here’s a story for you: I met this girl working at a cafe. She’s smart and quick witted, she never runs out of comebacks. Her smile makes my day and I needed to see more of it so I came up with these games. And damn it, I looked forward to going to work every day because of her.

There was a nagging at the back of my mind to get to know her better. I wanted her to get to know me too, but I have a track record of screwing things up so I sent a letter. Just one couldn’t hurt, right?

Clearly, I underestimated her. One letter was never going to be enough. I loved hearing about her dreams, her stories, the inside jokes we created along the way. Without meaning to, I fell for her. I fell for you. It was never a game for me, all of it was real. Is still real.

When I heard you liked your secret pen pal too, I didn’t know if I should reveal myself or just disappear, let you forget me. Of course, I screwed things up again. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you but clearly I have. Would you give me a second chance? I’m not good at this but I want to try."

He’s breathless by the time he ends his speech and you take a moment as the words settled in. No wonder he discouraged your interest in your secret pen pal, which also turned out to be him.

You sighed, “you really screwed it up.” Your heart broke all over again only to come back whole together because he did like you. All those silly gestures he brushed off really did mean something. And the boy you loved through letters and your cafe crush turned out to be the same person.

You pondered his question. The way he went about it was all wrong, but a second chance might be worth a shot. “Fine, we can start over, but you’ll have to make it up to me. You owe me unlimited favors.”

“I'll fix all the toasters you need,” he said, presenting you with the bouquet of flowers and books.

“Oh you’ll have to do more than that. I have a broken bulb on the ceiling, the heater needs fixing, and the microwave will definitely break tomorrow,” you taunted him, accepting his bouquet nevertheless.

He just smiled, “I have a lot to make up for, but I’ll do it for you.” He moved closer to you, bringing the bouquet to rest on the kitchen counter, so he can wrap his arms around you. “You’re worth it,” he whispered in your ear and you hugged him back, fighting off the delicious chill that ran through your back from his words. Being in his arms felt so right.

“You like me,” you sing, teasing him like a child and you enjoy the way his chest rumbles against you as he laughs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Besides, you like me back.”

You removed yourself from his hug, already missing his warm embrace. “I never said I liked you,” you teased.

Mock hurt danced across his features, “what’s not to like?”

You laughed at his arrogance, the need to touch him overwhelming everything else. “Fine,” you relented, “we can call it even.”

You closed the distance this time, “just to be clear, this is you being romantic?”

He smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist again. “Yes, this is me being romantic and I will show you so much more,” he said, bringing his lips to yours with a thousand unsaid promises you were about to discover.

✿ Masterlist

Author's note:

✿ When I came across a Jess Mariano fic, I just knew I had to write one too. Jess and his sarcastic ass in a (sort of) rivals to lovers trope, heck yes. ✿ Thanks to my lovely wife @pizzaapeteer for encouraging me to write this all those weeks ago ♡ ✿ Published this fic from a cafe, very on brand for the story.

#jess mariano #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fluff #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls #amongemeraldcloudswrites

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