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aaagustd · 2 months

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for the night | min yoongi

title: for the night

pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader

genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+

summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you?

warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches, mentions d*ath & grieving, mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...

wc: 11.6k

release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est

note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.

masterlist | playlist | ao3 version

“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”

As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return.

You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.

It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment.

You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.

You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal.

“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.

He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day.

You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.

A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside.

The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.

Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.

You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house.

One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.

As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.

“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”

She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip.

“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.

Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.

You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.

“Did he stop by yet?”

And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.

Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections.

Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.

You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.

It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.

If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.

You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.

Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.

…So you thought.

Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently.

You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.

Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.

“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”

“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”

You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.

“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”

“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”

Your jaw drops.

Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.

Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her.

And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.

“Just get your ass out of here.”

You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead.

You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”

Kaci then shakes her head.

“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”

“Huh? What are you talking about—”

Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.

About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.

All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.

Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings.

Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth.

All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew.

Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.

You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.

The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.

However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.

They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob.

You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.

Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.

His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.

Each step is confident and dominant; his aura dark and mysterious.

A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish.

He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing.

You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are.

Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.

“Can he just bend us over already?”

You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.

“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.

You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.

Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.

“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.

“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”

“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.

“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”

Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.

“You know the alterations shop over there?”

His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.

“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.

“Are you serious? That’s awful.”

“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.

Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”

He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.

“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”

“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.

“Sure, not a problem.”

With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.

“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”

“Is Hoseok out there?”

You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?

“Yeah…he is—”

“Kay, bye!”

Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her.

“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”

Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.

“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.

“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”

After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.

“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.

Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.

“How’s your dad?”

You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.

“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”

With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens. “That’s the shit I like to hear.”

“Me too.”

Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.

“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you.

You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching.

You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office.

You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.

After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.

“So how was your day?”

Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.

“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing.

Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers.

“This is all of it.”

Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.

“Just okay?” he quizzes.

“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”

He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious.

Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”

You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.

“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.

“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”

“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”

“Yoongi, I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I won’t,” you declare confidently.

“So you’re arguing with me?”

Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.

“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.

“I don’t see your car outside.”

“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”

After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.

“Um, do you mind—”

“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.

“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, love.”

You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name.

Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.

“Good?”

“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”

“Cool.”

Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur.

He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.

Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.

“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.

Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.

You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken.

If that’s possible.

“Cold? This is perfect weather.”

You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.

“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”

You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.

You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.

“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”

Oh.

You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.

When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.

“Thank you.”

“For?” he asks.

“Your car feels like heaven right now.”

Yoongi scoffs softly.

“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.

“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, love.”

Fuck.

Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.

“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”

He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.

“Uh, what?”

“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”

Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.

You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.

“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”

You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.

“You alright?”

“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”

“Any plans tonight?”

You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.

“You bet.”

Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”

“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”

“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”

You give him a look.

“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.

“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”

“That is true.”

Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts.

As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots.

But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.

You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.

“What happened to the garden?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice.

As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.

“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.

You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.

“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”

“I forgot!”

“You always do,” he mumbles.

You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.

“Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.

As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.

Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.

Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath.

You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend.

Your best friend.

“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”

Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.

Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”

Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t.

Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”

You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.

“There’s no need,” he assures.

Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.

Foolish.

“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."

“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”

You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole.

“You'll call me if you need me, right?”

If you need him…

You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?

You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do.

Just not right now.

“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond.

Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you.

A part of you wishes that he did.

But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto.

Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault.

Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to.

You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.

You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.

Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.

You should treat yourself; you deserve it.

“Get your sorry ass up.”

Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.

But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.

Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?

He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?

He ruined it.

He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger.

That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.

If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you.

He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either.

There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game.

The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.

“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”

Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.

This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.

“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”

Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.

“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”

“I—”

Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.

“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”

The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender.

Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot.

That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.

“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”

Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in.

“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.

“You got that.”

He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.

After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.

“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”

Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”

Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops.

He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.

Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.

“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.

“Who?”

“You want me to say her name out here?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night.

Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.

Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.

He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.

You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.

“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”

Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”

“And you said no? Dude, no way.”

Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else.

“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.

“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”

Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless.

“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”

“And what do you think he meant by that?”

Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave.

“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”

With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.

“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”

When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.

“You said you needed me,” he whispers.

All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.

It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?

Just like you used to.

Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.

No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand.

That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.

You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings.

You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Yoongi?” you whisper.

Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant?

Your dad would be devastated.

Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”

“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts.

You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”

Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.

“Were you fighting?” you quiz.

“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”

Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”

“Yeah,” he confirms.

“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”

You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?

“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.

You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.

“What are you doing—”

“I’m listening.”

“What?”

You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.

“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Yoongi?”

You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.

“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”

Oh. So he remembers that.

“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.

“So now I’m water under the bridge?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”

“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”

“Yoongi…”

“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”

“I don’t,” you admit.

This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word.

It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.

Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.

You open the door again, and step to the side.

“Come in. It’s cold.”

This time he doesn’t reject your invitation.

Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.

You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.

“You can sit here.”

“Thanks,” he replies.

Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.

Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.

There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.

So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point.

“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.

Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.

“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”

“...Was confused,” you add.

You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.

“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”

You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.

“...My pussy was throbbing.”

Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.

“Huh-What?”

You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”

“Deflower you? The fuck?”

Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.

“Well, it’s true!”

“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.

“And you’re still stubborn.”

Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.

You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough.

Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.

You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.

“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.

Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.

“You know you want to. Come here.”

Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.

“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.

You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.

“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.

“Fine…”

Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.

“What are you doing?”

You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”

Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct.

You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”

“A little, but…”

“But what?”

“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.

His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?

“Maybe…”

You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.

“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.

You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle.

Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.

“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”

“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”

You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”

“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”

You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.

“Hold on.”

Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.

“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”

With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.

“Follow me…”

“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt.

You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind.

Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.

You have all night.

When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.

“Change your mind?” he quizzes.

You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes.

As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.

“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans.

Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.

“I can tell,” he scoffs.

You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue.

Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.

While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.

No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.

“Ahh, fuck.”

If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat.

You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses.

His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing.

When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.

He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock.

Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw.

Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.

“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”

“Thank you—”

Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.

“But is that what I told you to do?”

You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.

“No, use your fucking mouth.”

When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.

“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”

“I do,” you croak around his digits.

“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”

Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.

In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.

“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.

You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.

“No way.”

“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”

“And I’m not glass.”

Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.

“Come here.”

He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you.

You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.

“Yoongi!”

“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”

With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.

You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard.

“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”

Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.

“Damn, it’s wet.”

He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.

“Please stop teasing,” you beg.

Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”

“Because—”

You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.

“Oh my god.”

Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once.

You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside.

Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.

“Good now?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder.

You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached.

You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.

“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.

You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.

“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.

You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.

A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.

“Answer me.”

This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”

“Hm. So you just do what you want?”

The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.

“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”

“Oh, you will,” he promises.

Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.

“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.” His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”

“What?” you shriek. “No!”

His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.

“Uh-uh.”

He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.

“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”

You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck.

You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.

“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”

Fuck.

“I am.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core.

He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.

“You’re mine, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Good... Now open.”

Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.

Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.

Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

“You too, Yoongi.”

You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.

“More, please.”

“More?”

“Please…”

“I got you,” he assures.

Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed.

“Cumming!”

You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.

Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.

Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.

You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.

You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin. lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”

“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.

Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.

Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—

Or you can ask Yoongi.

With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.

Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.

Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.

Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.

6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!?

7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux

You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room.

7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.

7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis

“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.

Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.

“Hello?”

It’s Yoongi.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.

“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”

“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”

“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”

“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”

“What?!”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”

If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.

“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.

“Yeah, anything.”

“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?”

You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view.

“I know you’re already late so…”

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”

“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”

“That works.”

Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.

“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”

Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”

“Kay. Bye then.”

“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Still mine?”

A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.

But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?

“Maybe,” you tease.

There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.

“You still haven’t learned, have you?”

You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”

“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”

Shit.

If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.

No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.

“I guess you are.”

“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.

You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.

“Good. Neither am I.”

He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out.

As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.

You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.

Isn’t that what friends are for?

hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #yoongi fics #yoongi imagines #bts imagines #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #aaagustd.fics

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bunnycvnts · 1 month

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new bf!rafe getting babied while he’s sick & falling deeper in love

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

his room was dark despite being midday, thanks to the blackout curtains shielding an array of windows lining his bedroom walls. you tiptoed carefully into the room, easing the door shut gently with your foot, your hands occupied by the tray of goodies for your sick boyfriend. on the tray was a bowl of soup, tissues, two cool washcloths, and a freshly refilled water bottle.

earlier that day, it didn’t take long for you to realize rafe had come down with something. he had been moodier than normal, sneezing and coughing unnecessarily loud, and his nose had been rubbed raw from toilet paper. you ushered him quickly into his room, telling him to nap while you ran out to grab a few things. the trip took longer than you’d thought, and by the time you arrived back to tannyhill, the boy was out cold.

rafe felt the bed dip with weight, and a groan left his lips. his eyes fluttered open and closed repeatedly as you took his temperature. “‘m fine, babe. seriously. jus’ have a cold or something.” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the thermometer showing a whopping 101.5 temperature, indicating a fever.

“mhm, i know. just humor me. will make me feel better knowing you’re getting some rest.” you knew how he was. he wouldn’t do anything for himself, but if it meant doing it for you…well, he could manage that. anything to please his girl. rafe nodded his head slightly, prompting you to carry on with your nurse facade.

offering the warm soup, he was quick to deny it, claiming his stomach was turning, and he definitely didn’t have any sort of appetite, so you left it on the tray resting on his desk. a moan of relief followed the cold cloth resting against his forehead and sliding down his skin.

“feels nice,” he grumbled out. your lips formed into a pout, as if you were looking at a sad puppy. he was just so cute, you couldn’t help but lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “i know, baby.”

rafes mouth upturned at the petname, always a sucker for verbal affection. his brain felt like mush, and he wasn’t entirely sure that you weren’t some figment of his imagination. a moment of weakness, leading him to conjure up someone who knew how to relieve some of the pain he was feeling and make his heart melt at the same time.

you helped him sit up, slipping some medicine into his mouth, followed by water to help him swallow it down. his chest was bare, a light sheen of sweat sweeping across his skin. you were quick to grab the second cloth and gently run it down his chest, cleaning him off and easing the heat he felt. goosebumps rose on his skin at the cold cloth, despite his moans of relief.

his eyes had remained mostly closed, peaking at you sometimes when you’d stop touching him, wondering where you’d gone, but each time he was met with a sweet kiss to his cheek and another swipe of the cold cloth among various areas of his skin. his heart felt heavy with love as you cared for him, gazing at you each time you turned away to grab different items for him. you were like an angel, swooping down and holding his heart in your hands, bringing it back to health.

when the cloth ran warm from his heat, you placed it back on the tray, so you could use it again later after running it under some water. your hand met his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature, even though you already knew what it was.

“my poor baby, bet you feel so icky right now.” you pouted down at him, watching as his cheeks flushed deeper.

“stop it. i’m fine.” his words did nothing to stop the smile forming on his lips. he was a sucker for your sweet words. he forced his eyes open to look at you, raising his arms out to gesture you in.

“baby, you have a fever. i know you’re too warm; cuddling won’t help.” despite your response to his gesture, it didn’t take much to convince you, which you proved as you lay next to him when he grumbled at you. rafe rested his head on your skin, feeling the coolness of it against his cheek. “just for a sec, promise. jus’ a second.”

you laid there for the rest of the night, as he had quickly fallen back asleep on you. your soft skin and scent, which he loved so much, provided more comfort than a cool washcloth or some warm soup ever could.

taglist: @sunkissedrafe

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theminecraftbee · 5 months

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this fully has me thinking about humancleo again btw, and their original canon appearance in season six, and the things this has told us about cleo as a zombie:

she CAN be cured of being a zombie using the weakness potion and golden apple trick. that's how she cured herself then. (she did this because it seemed unfair to already be dead when she joined demise.)

the process of being cured made her dizzy and pass out and her zombie crew had to rescue her from falling in the ocean.

the SOUND was of her heartrate starting up and it POUNDS in her ears the whole time like she doesn't know what to do with it.

she kind of hates being human and finds the sensations associated with stuff like "having a heartrate" and "having to breathe" uncomfortable and frustrating.

she ALSO immediately got really really paranoid about being able to die again, and acted uncomfortable the whole time with how squishy and mortal being human made her. being alive means she's vulnerable and she DID NOT like that.

interestingly, dying as humancleo did NOT make her into zombiecleo! it instead made her into a dead humancleo (with the traditional grey demise skin even). it instead took getting carol the zombie to bite her after everyone was brought back alive after demise to turn back into a zombie. this was also a process that required some nursing back to health.

in conclusion: love humancleo. LOVE seeing her around again. will ABSOLUTELY poke at this more once the relevant thing that made me think of this again comes out,

#hermitcraft #secret life spoilers #namemc spoilers #zombiecleo #it's just. SUCH a fun character beat for cleo and so fun to do things with

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goddessofwisdom-7 · 4 months

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I Gotcha.

Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

Description: three times you promised Luke that you got him. The two times he struggled to believe and finally when he did.

A/N: the gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

************************************************************

The days spent at camp immediately after his failed quest were arguably the worst of Luke's entire life.

He had to drag himself back home with a burnt chunk of an apple, a dragon tooth and half his face destroyed.

You had nursed him back to health. Spending three days straight in the infirmary. The solo quest was a bad idea and you had known it. Luke had gone alone in some sort of attempt to prove himself, seeking glory but now this entire thing had backfired and you couldn't help but worry.

When he awoke he had stared in mute horror at the mirror you held up to his face.

"I tried to minimise the scarring as much as I could, Luke. I couldn't remove it entirely but with the correct balm and scar creams it'll fade," you had explained.

Luke knew you were the best the camp infirmary had but he couldn't explain the rage that boiled within him. This fruitless quest, with its dumb replication to Heracles' and his quest all for the sake of earning his father's attention had permanently marred him.

Physical proof of his father's neglect right there for everyone to witness.

And he would have to carry this stupid scar for the rest of his life.

"Luke?"

His gaze snapped to meet yours, softening slightly, as you placed the mirror facedown on his bedside table.

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to see sympathy in your eyes, no doubt too many campers will be looking upon him like he was a pitiful kicked dog, nor did he want to see disappointment; he wasn't quite sure how he'd stomach that.

But your face held neither of those emotions, instead a strong conviction resided in the lines of your face, lines that you were too young to have, that marked the effects of stress no adolescent should feel.

"I'm gonna take care of you Luke, okay?" You reached out and cupped his uninjured cheek, "I gotcha. I always gotcha."

And wasn't that something.

He reached out cupping your face in his hands, this was his whole world.

"Okay baby; yeah, please."

****************************

Luke had miscalculated. He'd failed to retain the master bolt and the helm of darkness.

Now, he was being punished. Severely. And he hated it but he deserved it. He'd let Kronos down, he needed to learn his lesson so he never makes the same mistake.

The nightmares cut too much into reality though sometimes. His entire body lit aflame but it always got so much worse when he was forced to face a scenario where he had to cut you up so that your pieces would replace the Titan.

He never failed this test, but it always took the most out of him. Even if you always understood his anger, he wasn't sure you'd understand his methods; and at the crack of every dawn, he'd escape his cabin and run to the lake where he knew you'd always be. Like clockwork, watching the sun rise.

This time his skin buzzed with the phantom recollection of his nightmares, he had to scrub at his eyes to clear his vision a few times, mistaking the blood on his hands to be real in his fatigued state.

You sat on the deck, eyes fixed on the changing colours of the sky. He could hear your voice humming a soft nameless tune. This was your ritual, your futile attempts at interactions with your father as he burst across the heavenly dome on his sun chariot.

Nonetheless, Luke always enjoyed the sound of your voice. He'd appreciate it if Apollo never would.

You'd sense his presence as you always did in the early hours and you'd beckon him towards you.

Sitting by your side felt right, amidst all the tension he'd been under. The weight of all his plans. Your song was familiar, the heat and strength of your figure a comfort.

"Nightmares again?" You asked, knowing the answer regardless.

He'd nod.

There were a few truths he was allowed to tell you. Sometimes if he said it with enough of himself, he could fool himself to believe that all you knew weren't mainly lies.

"Come here."

And you'd guide his head to you lap, gentle– loving, like the first rays of the sun. You would card your fingers through his curls, and every now and then lightly ghost your fingertips over the scar on his face.

On occasion, Luke would dream that you were healing him, erasing his scars, erasing his pains.

"I gotcha Luke," you'd murmur, "I always gotcha."

Some mornings he'd fall into a dreamless sleep.

************************

"I gotcha baby," oh he's missed that voice, "I always gotcha, Luke." It's been too long. Days, weeks, months. Years.

You were crying.

Percy and Annabeth were crying too but–

You're crying.

Don't cry.

He's really tired, and it's getting difficult to take a breath. He figures this is the feeling of death and he's trying to not be afraid.

You reach for him, and he forces himself to open his eyes and look at you.

It's not so bad. Your face has always been what he'd like to see last. It's just–

There's so much to say. So many things he has to tell you, to apologise for, to confess, to love and there's no time.

You're so beautiful.

Even covered in soot and monster dust and blood.

Your hands cup his face, fingers instinctively brushing his brows and scar. You keep mumbling small comforts, little assurances. But you don't promise life, because that wouldn't be true and while Luke has been a deceitful liar, you have never been one yourself and you won't lie to him even now.

But you promise that you got him. And he believes you.

"I know baby," He huffs and tries to say, "but now...it's time– time to let me go."

It's a struggle. His vision is blurry, he's really tired.

So he focuses on the feel of you instead, letting his eyes close. This is just like falling asleep.

*****************************************************************************

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fic rec #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #percy jackson #luke castellan #annabeth chase #lc

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slytherinshua · 23 days

Text

YOUR WOUNDS WRAPPED WITH MY LOVE

genre. fluff. tiny bit of angst. mafia au. warnings. descriptions of a stab wound. blood. knives and guns. some profanity. kissing. they kinda argue but very mildly. i researched a little on how to treat wounds but pls don't expect it to be too accurate 😭. pairing. fiancé!jeno x reader. wc. 1.5k. request. no. a/n. so ever since the concept trailers this jeno has been the only thing on my mind I swear 😔 and nursing trope is one of my fav tropes ever so I joined the two together and was very delulu 👍

“Again?” You asked, less than happy at the sight of the tall man who stood against the doorframe, one hand clutching his side painfully. Lee Jeno always disappeared without warning on another mission only to return, usually injured, for you to patch him up. You had urged him to hire an actual medic for the job, but he refused, saying he didn’t trust anyone but you to get that close to him. That was a few years back when the occasions for it were still rare. You were alarmed at how often he seemed to be going out, and returning with increasingly worse injuries.

Your knowledge and skill with patching up wounds— dagger wounds, bruises and scrapes from physical altercations, hell, even gunshot wounds— was a lot better than years ago. You were confident in your ability to get your fiancé back to health, but you weren’t pleased with how often you had to. No matter how much you pleaded with him to let his body rest, he would more often than not, be out again just hours after you had tended to his bleeding body.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbled out. You would have been shocked by how hoarse his voice had become if this was the first time, but you were all too used to it. Your heart still clenched painfully seeing him in that state.

He could barely walk, blood dripping a little from where his hand pressed tightly to his left side, his face scrunched in pain as laboured irregular breaths left his mouth.

“Come here. Sit down. Tell me what happened.” You said quietly, already having gotten out the box of medical supplies. You were ready with the bottle of saline already, but it wasn’t anywhere near the top of Jeno’s worries. From the tone of your voice, he could tell you were mad at him. Or maybe it was mostly disappointment? A touch of worry, perhaps.

He made his way towards you, carefully limping towards the bed until he could gently lower himself onto it with his weight supported by the bedframe. He sat still as you gently took off his shirt, eyes assessing the dark red spot that stained the side of his stomach and up his ribcage. You glanced up to his face, and he met your eyes for half a second with a slow breath out.

“Knife. It’s not that deep, I stopped their hand before they could push it in very far.” He whispered, and then shut his eyes tightly when you dabbed a little at the wound with a soft wet cloth soaked in saline.

“Are you staying for long?” You asked, guarding your heart for what his answer would be. You loved Jeno— you loved him more than anything, and you tried to be as selfless as you could regarding him and his job. You never put up a fuss about having to patch him up, and you only ever gently tried to persuade him to be more careful. But it was hard, really hard. You couldn’t help but be hopeful that he might be able to stay for a bit longer with you. You hated how you only seemed to be seeing him to treat his wounds for the past month.

But it only reminded you of how he was by far the most selfless person you knew.

Countless threats had always been looking for Jeno’s weakness. And you happened to be the most vital one. You were unspeakably precious to him, and unfortunately, his rivals knew that. Of course, he did everything he could to protect you. You trusted him with your life. There was no one else who you would ever trust as much as him. And he had never lost your trust. You had never even had a scratch delivered to you. But the tradeoff of the protection that Jeno made sure you had was his own life being put at risk almost every day.

Every cut, stab, or bruise that littered his fair skin were marks of how determined he was to keep you safe. The least you could do was treat his body in return with your gentle hands, wiping away the blood, wrapping the wounds carefully, and stitching them up when needed.

Jeno answered your question with only a silent nod yes. Although relief filled your body that he wouldn’t be out again immediately, you still focused on the more important task at hand. You could enjoy his company once he wasn’t bleeding.

“Are they still after you?” You rummaged around in the box for the antibiotic ointment, dabbing a bit on your finger before leaning closer to apply it. “This’ll sting.” You muttered as a warning before dabbing the wound as carefully as you could. Jeno tensed up, his fingers bunching up the sheet of the bed as he did his best to stay still.

“Talk to me. It’ll help distract you.” You told him, pausing your application of the antibiotics to rest a hand on his shoulder, providing a small bit of comfort.

“They’re… They’re after you, not me. You know that.” He whispered out as you continued to treat the wound. “They can’t take me by themselves— they’d be fucking stupid to try. I made sure that they won’t bother us for at least a month. I’ll have to talk to Renjun and Donghyuck about our next course of action.” You hummed in understanding, grabbing the roll of gauze next.

“You need to rest your body, Jeno.” You said quietly. You could tell he was about to protest, so you interrupted quickly, “Doctor’s orders. Don’t pull anymore dumb shit.”

“It’s not dumb shit. It’s to protect you.” He argued back, clenching his jaw.

You sighed, starting to wrap the white cloth around his waist, “I know. But you said yourself that you have a month. At least for a week of that month, you need to rest and recover.”

Your fiancé seemed unsettled at the thought of a whole week of rest; a week of letting his guard down. It was almost unheard of for him. He knew from experience that as soon as he let himself relax, something unexpected would happen. But maybe you were right. Maybe a week of rest is what he needed.

You secured the wrap tightly, and mumbled out how you were all done. Jeno just stared at you while you cleaned up, soaking up the face he hadn’t gotten a chance to study for the past month. He felt incredibly guilty for how often he had been gone, and even more so for how often he had let you see him like this. He knew you hated it, but you never complained. He didn’t deserve you.

“I love you.” He spoke suddenly, interrupting the cold silence of the room. You shut the metal drawer slowly, back still turned to him as you let a small smile grow on your face. You hadn’t heard those words from him in a while. You turned back to sit down next to him again, your eyes staring into his.

“Won’t you say it back?” He whispered, reaching for your hand; your left hand, the one that adorned that diamond ring he had given you months prior. You let him pull you closer as his right hand enclosed over your left. His fingers felt a bit rough, but they were warm and comfortable. With his left hand on the back of your neck, he gently guided you forward until his lips closed over yours.

You could just barely taste the metallicness of blood from the slight cut to his bottom lip. But you didn’t focus on it, too absorbed in the gentleness of his kiss and how perfectly his lips felt against yours even after years had passed. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath.

You pecked his lips again, “I love you too. Always.”

He visibly relaxed at your words and dropped his head to your shoulder. You sighed, threading your fingers through the hair at the bottom of his neck, holding him closely. He shuddered quietly, and you frowned.

“Cold?” Your hand ran up and down his back slowly, feeling goosebumps rise from the chill. You traced one of the many scars that marked him, stopping at the dip of his scapula and muscle. You reached behind your back, feeling around along the mattress for a blanket. You caught hold of it and gently draped it around Jeno.

You smiled fondly at the way he nestled his head a little closer to the crook of your neck. From his breath, you figured he was already almost asleep. You didn’t want to disturb his sleep, but you knew the position would quickly get uncomfortable, so you shifted his head down to your chest and laid back until you hit the mattress. He didn’t protest at all, but shifted into a comfortable spot in his half-asleep state. With his head on your chest, his arm around your waist, and his legs tangled with yours, you found the new position to be much more promising for getting good sleep.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead and made sure the blanket covered his body before you closed your eyes as well.

↳ nct dream taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,,

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

Note

I saw your requests were closed But I really couldn't help sharing one. I hope you do like the idea :)

So what about a Charles × Wolff/Hamilton reader where she is working in Health care but has a new boss recently and he passes inappropriate comments/threats etc about her and acts out of line, which keeps on escalating (As dramatic and much as you want it to) and she doesn't tell him or anyone and starts behaving irratically and is scared, but one day it was too much or he finds out about it on accident and is angry at first at her for not sharing and then is all protective and possessive and does something about it.

One shot/ Series. Honey anything to read any version of this would be just 🤌🏻

Thank you ❤️🥹

Your Safe Place || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!Wolff!reader Warnings: 18+ only, injuries, bullying, panic attack WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist

Translations: ma (petite) louve - my (little) wolf || chérie - sweetheart || putain - fuck || je t’aime (aussi) - I love you (too) || Quel salopard - what an asshole

The second you closed the front door you could finally breathe again. Taking a moment to just settle after the day you had endured, you pressed your back to the door and closed your eyes. It was like you told your younger patients when they were feeling stressed: smell the flower, blow out the candle. Inhale through your nose, exhale out your mouth.

Peace calmed your mind as you smelt the dinner Charles had made, your plate kept warm in the oven like he did whenever your shift ran overtime. That was an almost daily occurrence, especially with the new boss. You took another breath to clear your mind before it could return to the man who was single handedly making you regret your entire career choice.

"Hey-oh," Charles caught himself before he could hug you, spotting the blood on your scrubs. "You, uh, have a little something-" You looked down where he gestured, his nose wrinkling at the sight.

"It's fine," you said as you dropped your bag to the floor and pulled the shirt off. "It's mine, not a patient."

He nodded with relief as he took it from you to put in the washing machine but then it dropped as he realised what you had said and took a closer look at you. "Ma louve, what happened?" his fingers were gentle as they guided your face up to the light and he saw the bruising around your nose. "Putain, you're hurt."

"It was an accident," you said softly as you took his hands from your face and stepped into his embrace. "Cassia just had an episode, you know how it is, she didn't know what she was doing."

He wasn't appeased by the answer as he led you to the kitchen where he sat you down before checking your dinner was still warm enough to eat. "Where was security?"

You were grateful his back was to you as he reheated the pasta, something he hated having to do since it was never as good as when it was fresh. You had grimaced, wondering the very same thing at the time. They should have been close in the ward but with the new boss, expenditure was more important than safety and the budget had been cut in half the moment he started.

"They got there as fast as they could." It wasn't a lie. They had run all the way from the maternity ward on the floor above but you had already reset your broken nose by the time they arrived. She had quickly calmed after a dose of haloperidol and been apologetic when she realised her actions while delirious. “I’m fine, Char.”

Diana sighed as she bandaged your wrist, a look of pity in her eyes as she shook her head. “Why do you stay? It’s not like you need the money, hun.”

You tested the range of movement and winced at the sharp pain, just another incident to add to the growing list. “What good does quitting do? You guys would just be another nurse down and it would put more pressure on an already crumbling system.”

The older nurse patted your hand before standing up and putting the left over roll of gauze away. “You’re too kind, but sometimes you have to put yourself first.”

You should have taken the rest of the day off but there were rounds to finish and call bells ringing left, right and centre. It was only when you couldn’t ignore your rumbling stomach any longer that you really took a proper look at your watch and saw your shift had finished over an hour ago.

“Katrina called in sick, I need you to stay on,” Tommy said without a simple hello when he caught you alone in the staff room.

“I can’t,” you replied as you grabbed your bag with your good hand, “it’s my dad’s birthday - we’re going out to dinner.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re having dinner with the Crown Prince himself, we need you here.”

“Albert may actually be there,” you mused as you started to leave, but an arm blocked the doorway.

“Your yearly review is due next week, and I would hate to have to make a note of insolence, poor attitude and lack of empathy for others. We are short on staff and it’s not like you have children at home.”

That had been the only reason you took some extra shifts when you could manage it, because there were nurses like Katrina who had two young ones and they often fell ill with colds and flus from their daycare. It meant you had to become the automatic fall guy when any other member of staff couldn’t make it - but that was what the on-call nurses were for, except…

“Maybe we wouldn’t be short staffed if you didn’t get rid of the on-call contractors, or if you hired more nurses like we were promised two years ago,” you snapped without thinking, your hunger and exhaustion removing the filter that stopped you from having the temper your father did. Or, passion, as he liked to call it - a Wolff trait.

“So this is my fault?” he scoffed. “Nurses cost money. You might not know this, but money doesn’t grow on trees.”

You rolled your eyes at the reminder that you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, but that didn’t mean you were the spoiled daughter everyone who didn’t know you thought you were. You had studied hard and put in the effort to become a nurse because you wanted to help people. Tommy only cared about the profit.

“Healthcare shouldn’t be about money,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “It should be about helping the people who need it.”

“Then ask daddy dearest to make a donation, sweetcheeks,” he mocked as he pinched your cheek like a child. “That’s the only way you’ll get your precious nurses.”

You slapped his hand away from your face and ducked out the door before he could stop you but his voice echoed along the cold sterile corridor, “I hope you like night shifts, you’re going to be on them for a very long time.”

“You wouldn't,” you turned with a gasp. Charles' timetable was erratic but unless he was out of the country for a race he would always make the effort to be home by the time your shift ended.

“I would.” He chuckled and left in the opposite direction, pointing back to the staff room as he went. “You can leave at the midnight swap.”

Sighing with defeat and tears stinging your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the bag and sent an apologetic text to your father for missing his dinner party.

By the time midnight arrived your feet were aching and you had nearly emptied the vending machine of snacks to stave off your hunger. It wasn’t far from the hospital to the apartment you shared with Charles but it felt like a million miles when you stepped out into the cold night.

You pulled your jacket tighter around your body and shivered as you started off, your head down and hood up. You were so focused on just putting one foot in front of the other you didn’t see the shadow join you until a hand grabbed you and you screamed with terror as you were pulled into their chest.

“Ma louve, it’s me,” Charles soothed as he pulled your hoodie back and saw the tears in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I, I,” you stammered as you tried to unscramble the thoughts in your head.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I called out to you like three times. I shouldn’t have grabbed you, that was stupid,” he chided himself.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I was in a world of my own.” You finally took notice of your surroundings and saw the car park was almost empty and none of the cars were his Pista. “What are you doing here? Did you walk?”

“I didn’t want you walking alone at this hour,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. “You’re shaking, ma chérie.”

“It was a long day,” you murmured as you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder as he gently rocked you. “I think I have more coffee in my system than blood right now.”

“You can’t keep this up, my love, you are going to burn out.”

You pulled out of his embrace and started down the footpath so he didn’t see the tears begin to escape. “I’m fine, Char. I can handle it.”

It was Charles' home race and you had promised him you would join him in Ferrari this year. It was one of the few races you could always attend, managing your shifts around it so you never missed it, and all week you had seen the city setting up for the pride and joy of Monaco.

Dawn was breaking on the big day and it looked like it was going to be a stunner as the sky turned blue and you left the hospital after yet another night shift. Tommy had found a way to make your life miserable and your shifts were constantly changing just to upset your mentality and circadian rhythm. You could barely tell morning from night when it always looked the same blue hues, same cool temperatures, the only indication was which side of the city was glowing, east or west.

“Good morning, baby,” you greeted as you wrapped your arms around Charles and kissed his shoulder as you found him at the bench making breakfast, already wearing his bright red Ferrari uniform. “How did you sleep?”

“Not bad. Would have been better with you,” he said as he turned to face you, his head dipping down to indulge in a kiss. You giggled as you saw a few crumbs of toast caught in the short hairs of his beard and brushed them away. “Thank you.”

“Now you can kiss me.”

The doorbell rang and he reluctantly released you from his arms to go answer it, his finger pointing to the second plate you hadn’t noticed. “Eat, amour.”

You hummed happily as you grabbed the toast and took a bite, casting a wave to Andrea as he walked in with Charles.

“You look half dead, Wolff,” his trainer said with a worried look.

“She just got in from a shift, and will be going to bed as soon as she has eaten, right?” Charles said pointedly while you rolled your eyes.

“Does he boss you around this much?” you asked Andrea, making him chuckle as he shook his head.

“No, but he doesn’t love me the same way.”

“Who said I love you at all?”

“You do, every time you get a podium,” Andrea pointed out seriously.

You nearly choked on the mouthful as you tried not to laugh at the truth. Charles was very affectionate when he was celebrating, and you hoped he would have an entire night of it after today's race. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to share it with him since you were due back at the hospital at 7pm for another 12 hour night shift. You had tried to find someone to swap with but Tommy had made it clear there would be consequences - all because you questioned his qualifications.

You hadn’t been able to quiet any more, not when you had the imprint of a patient's dental records on your forearm from when they bit you. You started dreading going to work, somewhere that should have been a safe place, a refuge for those needing help had become the opposite for you. It was bordering on dangerous and you had to say something.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have said it in the morning meeting in front of dozens of staff, but you had serious doubts about his ‘people skills’ and wanted to know where he got his management degree from. Suggesting it was from Hogwarts, because it must be a thing of fantasy, may have been a step too far.

You were now paying for those words.

You still stood by them.

You still hadn’t told Charles.

He would only worry, or suggest taking a sabbatical. Yes, you longed to travel with him to his races and show your support, but you didn’t feel there was any way to contribute to society with that life. Nursing gave you a sense of purpose and fulfilment that you were certain you couldn’t feel just being the driver’s girlfriend, or the principal’s daughter.

“Hey,” Charles roused you softly and you realised you were starting to fall asleep while eating. “Let’s get you to bed, ma petite louve.”

You were already closing your eyes before your head hit the pillow but you felt his lips warm your forehead. “I love you. I’ll see you in the garage,” you mumbled as sleep took over.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore as you scrambled out of the bed and pulled on the first outfit you could find, a pair of comfortable jeans and a Ferrari shirt with Leclerc across the back with the number 16. There were dozens of missed calls and even more text messages but do not disturb had automatically turned on and you had forgotten to stop the setting. Today of all days you wanted to be disturbed.

Out on the street you could already hear the high keening of the cars racing around the city and you dashed through the thick crowds to get to the paddock. You hadn’t even remembered to grab your pass as you left in a rush but for once you were thankful someone recognised you and let you through.

“Arthur, how is he doing?” you panted as you reached the Ferrari garage and grabbed the headset he held out.

“Not the best start, he was a little distracted I think. You should probably let him know you are here.”

You agreed and went to the desk at the back rather than the main set up on the pit wall, quietly asking them to connect your headset to Charles. They were hesitant but there was no need for a pit stop any time soon since he had fresh tires so they made the adjustments to the channels.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.”

“You had me worried, little wolf.”

“That sounds so strange to hear in English,” you giggled, knowing the rules of the comms meant he couldn’t speak French on them. “I just wanted to let you know I made it so you can stop worrying.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” he said and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

The final 12 laps went almost as quickly as your nails, the nervous habit ruining them under the stress of the tight street circuit and close calls. Every time his car went flying through the sharp corners around the pool you were sure you were going to see him crash and your heart could barely take it. You ripped the headset off and rushed out of the garage as a wave of nausea crashed over you.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked when he caught up to you in Charles’ driver room, a bottle from his fridge pressed to your clammy forehead. Your hands could barely keep it steady as the shook uncontrollably and you ended up letting it fall to the floor with a thud as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer him as you struggled to pull air into your lungs, the screams of the crowd outside doing little to calm the panic gripping you. Dropping your head between your knees, you tried to keep from fainting but you could feel your heartbeat in your head, the throb sounding in time to the darkening pulse invading your vision until it all faded to black.

“You’re not listening, mate, she cannot come to work. She fucking passed out from exhaustion.”

“Then she should have been sleeping and not wasting her time watching some cars go around in circles. If she doesn't show up tonight, tell her not to bother showing up ever again.”

“She won’t,” Charles ended the call and slammed your phone down. “Quel salopard!”

The anger on Charles' face softened when he saw your eyes opening and he rushed across the room, his race suit still tied around his waist. “Don’t move, just lay down, ma louve. You need to rest,” he whispered as he knelt on the floor beside the couch you were lying on, his fingers brushing your cheek bone. “Arthur’s gone to get Toto.”

You couldn’t tell if minutes or days had passed and trying to think felt like trekking through a swamp of sludge in your mind. “The race?”

“4th.” He pressed his palm to your head and ran it over your hair feeling the damp heat on his skin. “You’ve sweat almost as much as me, mamour. You should have stayed home if you weren’t feeling well.”

You shook your head and it cleared some of the haze that hindered your cognitive ability. “I’m not sick, I just had…a moment. But I’m fine now.”

“A moment?” he asked with a frown. “What type of moment? And don’t tell me you are fine, you are clearly not and you haven’t been fine for months. Talk to me, please.”

The pleading, the puppy eyes, the way he dropped his head to your shoulder like he was defeated, it crested into a tsunami of emotion that broke the wall you had built between your personal life and your work life. The two worlds crashed together and the sob broke his heart as you crumbled apart in front of him.

The wave of truth crashed upon him and everything you had tried to keep from him for the past six months was lifted from your conscience as you confessed it all. You told him about the stress you were under, the bullying you had faced and the danger you were in each night with nearly no support or security.

You had been in a long sleeve when you went to bed but now you were in his shirt and he could see the latest wound marring your flesh, the impression of teeth setting to bruises.

Horror painted his features as he absorbed it all, then it turned to anger, hot rage as his clenched fists turned his knuckles white. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked with quiet restraint. “Pourquoi?”

You swallowed and shrank back into the couch as you felt that anger aimed at you. The shaking started again, a fine tremor coursing through your body until it reached your teeth and they chattered as a cold sweat broke out.

“Fuck, no, bébé, please,” Charles cursed as he unclenched his fists and reached for you only to freeze as you flinched. “Please, I would never hurt you. I’m not angry at you.”

“Yes, you are,” you whispered.

“Okay, I’m a little bit angry you didn’t tell me sooner. We are meant to share everything, no?” You nodded meekly. “But I would never hurt you, ma louve. I’m angry at myself, I should have noticed, I should have, I don’t know…I failed you.”

“I was scared. You would make me quit if you knew.”

His head lifted and confusion swum in those green eyes of his. “Why would you want to work for that asshole?”

“I like my job, I like what I do, Charles.” You looked away from the intensity of his stare. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

“Oh, chérie, you would still be the same selfless, kind, beautiful woman you are right now. That is who you are, and that will never change.” When he reached for you this time you let him take your hands and he kissed your knuckles before holding them to his chest. “I think it’s time to prove it to you.”

You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I think you might be right.”

The sound of relief he made brought a smile to your face and he returned it with a guilty one. “That’s a relief,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, “because I think I got you fired.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #wolff!reader

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lovebugism · 8 months

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shy! reader & eddie - “are you okay? is the heat getting to you?”

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

hi angel! thanks so much for your request!! — the one where you have a hard time telling eddie when you feel bad and he nurses you back to health (hurt/comfort, shy!reader, 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

You felt a little like the sun was microwaving you.

The golden rays beat down on you most mercilessly, sucking all the energy from your body while simultaneously burning you alive. Once you sprawled out on the quilt Eddie brought for your little trip to Forest Hills Lake, you just laid there — too tired and too sick to do anything else.

The boy stood over you after noticing how uncharacteristically disinterested you were in feeding the ducks. His shadow shielded you from the sun as he poked your thigh with his foot. “Are you dead?” he joked with a lopsided grin you couldn’t see. Your eyes fluttered shut minutes ago, and you didn’t have the strength to open them again.

He knew something was off when you didn’t smile back. He knew something was really wrong when you muttered something vaguely in return that only came out in slurred mumbles.

Eddie manages to get you up with little help from the you in question.

Your suddenly exhausted frame leans heavily into his side as he leads you back to the trailer. Though the lake was quite literally in his backyard, the walk home took several minutes longer than usual. Your feet were made of brick and your swimming head had turned the world on its side. It took a world of strength to ascend the three steps of his rickety wooden porch.

“Here, c’mon,” Eddie hums as he follows you through the squeaking screen door. He walks you the short distance to the couch, putting both hands on your waist to steady you when you start to sway. “Sit down before you give me a heart attack, alright?”

You listen to him, though you don’t exactly hear him. Through your pounding headache and the rushing ocean in your ears, he might as well be talking to you underwater.

“I don’t feel good…” you slur quietly, eyes squeezed shut as you descend slowly onto the couch cushion. Eddie holds onto your elbows as you sit, watching you with attentively wide button eyes.

“I know, doll,” he coos empathetically in return. “I’m gonna go get you some water, okay?”

Your clammy hands grasp his wrist when he lets you go, your grip weak with a barely-there touch. You peer up at him with glassy eyes that swim with unshed tears and leftover sunlight.

“Don’t go,” you plead in a whisper. Your voice isn’t strong enough to be much louder.

You feel eerily close to passing out. Your head fills with static and you feel dreadfully far away from the world around you. Feeling this sick is scary in itself, but having Eddie so close makes you feel much safer in comparison.

“I’ll be right back. I promise,” he tells you with a soft, pink grin. He slides his palm out of your trembling grip to hold your hand. Your fingers are sweaty and uncharacteristically warm, almost burningly so. “You need some water in your system, babe. That’s probably why you feel so shitty right now.”

You’re too weak to protest any further.

The boy rushes into the kitchen. You vaguely hear his receding footsteps, glasses clattering together, and the hiss of the faucet — but it all sounds so far away. You’re just a countertop over from him, but it feels like lightyears.

Eddie stays gone for exactly four slow blinks.

Time has become a big ball of nothingness in your nauseous state. It feels like he’s gone for a lifetime and zero seconds flat at the same time. Either way, you’re equally grateful when he returns to you.

“Here you go,” the boy lilts quietly when he’s back in the living room. He ushers the cup of water into your weak hands but keeps a hold of it for a moment or more, just to make sure you’ve got it. “Drink up, doll.”

Your face scrunches in disdain at the thought. You know you’re thirsty, but you feel so queasy that your mouth has started to water.

“I’m scared I’m gonna puke,” you confess in a nearly inaudible slur.

“You won’t. I promise,” Eddie assures with a quiet smile. His fingers smooth over your forehead to push away the sweaty tendrils sticking there. You’re hot to the touch — and not even in the way figurative way he always jokes about, like genuinely burning. He singsongs to quell heavy tension, “And even if you do, I’ll clean it up for you, okay?”

The thought of him washing up after you is as heartwarming as it is stomach-churning.

You sip at the glass just to appease him. The water sloshes gently in the cup along with your trembling hand. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either — it’s the perfect temperature for someone so fragile suffering from an acute bout of heatstroke. The liquid is soft in your mouth, piercing you somewhere in your soul and making you feel almost instantly better when you swallow it down.

“How’s that?” Eddie coos, still standing over you with a loving sort of concern.

You make an unintelligible noise into your water.

“Do you feel any better? Still feel faint?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble with a feeble shrug. Because you don’t. You still feel weak and burning, but less distant than you had just moments before. You’re not sure what that means, though. “Maybe a little…”

Eddie puts a hand to your forehead, at a loss of what else to do. You’re still hot to the touch, but certainly not as warm as you had been earlier. The whirring A.C. and tap water must be doing the trick, he figures.

He spreads his palm along your clammy cheek. “You still feel a little sticky…” he tells you.

The words make you feel queasy. You blink up at him with a heavy, glassy gaze. “I feel gross…”

“You’re just sick, babe. It’s okay,” he assures you, laughing softly as he swipes his thumb over the apple of your cheek. His chocolate eyes sparkle when he looks down at you. “I’d hug you if I thought that wasn’t the worst idea in the world.”

The bridge of your nose scrunches at the thought.

You need Eddie around, but the thought of him touching you any more than this makes you want to be sick. You’ll kiss him absolutely stupid the second you’ve cooled down, though. He won’t be able to peel you off of him, then.

You shake your head in response to his implication, slow and sloppy like a child.

Eddie chuckles. “Exactly. Keep drinking for me, ‘kay?”

He sits down next to you, careful not to jostle you too much. He leaves several inches of agonizing distance between you and finds keeping his hands to himself is a most incorrigible feat. He watches you take ginger sips from the cup and wants so desperately to hold you to his chest until you feel better again.

He hopes that moment isn’t too far away now.

You feel considerably cooler once the water’s all gone. The leftover sunshine has nearly exited all your pores, allowing the air conditioner to formally pierce your skin. The tap water refreshes you from the inside out.

“Better?” Eddie ponders with raised brows.

You nod lazily.

He exhales in relief through his nose. “Good. You were starting to scare me for a second there.”

You flash him a sheepish glance. “Sorry…”

“It’s not your fault, doll. Don’t apologize,” the boy chuckles. Only you would apologize for feeling so sick — as though it wasn’t something as forced upon you as it was upon him. “I should’ve known better than to take you out today. It was way too hot outside.”

That’s not what he really wants to say.

If he’d said exactly what he meant, it would’ve gone something like, “I should’ve known better than to take you out today because it was way too hot, and you never tell me when you’re feeling bad.”

But that isn’t really your fault either.

Eddie knows how you are. He should’ve checked in on your more. If he hadn’t gotten so distracted, he probably could’ve gotten you inside before the sun almost killed you.

“It’s not your fault, either, Eds,” you tell him rather pointedly, as though you could hear his thoughts.

“No,” Eddie concedes with a shake of his head. “It’s the stupid sun’s fault for making my girl feel so sick.”

And even though he wasn’t exactly trying to make a joke, you laugh at him anyway. It’s just a weak exhale through your nose, but Eddie beams when he sees you finally smiling.

When his hands start to ache, he finally wonders, “Feel like being touched now?”

You don’t. Not really. Not in the way you’d like him to touch you, anyway. You’d love to be wrapped up in his arms and melt with him in totality, but your swimming head and warm skin disagree with you.

You reach for the wrist in his lap and put his hand on your thigh — for the sake of feeling him, but not overwhelmingly so.

It makes Eddie laugh. His palm smoothes over your knee before squeezing you there. “The water did the trick, huh?”

You nod.

He beams.

“I love being right,” he lilts, only halfway serious.

“I know you do,” you grumble in response.

You love him and his smug grin far too much to be genuinely annoyed with him, though. The understanding of this unsaid fact makes his smile widen.

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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radiance1 · 6 months

Text

If you asked Danny how he found himself in this situation, he wouldn't be able to give you a short answer. For you see, Danny was a Prince, heir to the throne that will never be his (and thank the Ancients for that) and an ageless being who will stay around for eons to come.

He out-lived his family, friends, entire town. Except for Vlad, that man wouldn't die so easily to something like old age, much less when his empire still stands.

Regardless.

Danny has been summoned only a handful of times, all of which were either mistakes or some mortals who wanted to summon something for shits and giggles.

He liked the last ones, they usually have pretty good food.

However, the last summon he's answered, a mistake, was done by a handful of wizards who weren't exactly happy with the results they got, so he made fun of them severely for their mistake and then their master- who was apparently watching in case things went wrong- turned him into a cat after he could a bit too... excited.

So, how did it escalate from there?

It was a simple thing, really, he encountered a few injured cats, and then nursed them back to health. Then those cats kept coming back to him, again, and again, and again, the first few times with injuries, but later they came just to be around him and chat sometime.

Then they started bringing other cats around him, skittish ones they were, not exactly keen on letting him take care of him the first few times, but just like the ones before, they soon came around to consider him as a friend of sorts.

Then that repeated, and repeated, and repeated.

Then suddenly, he found that he had acquired a family of sorts, one made of feral cats that were as chaotic as his own, previous, family was and more. It was... nice, when he realized that, that he had a place, a foothold, in the mortal world and not just as Prince of the Infinite Realms.

Although, the amount of grandpa jokes when he revealed his age- 150 is still young, he'll have you know- was something that took getting used to. But it was nice to know they were comfortable enough to call him that.

There were some special cases among his little Familia. A few of them had what this world called meta-abilities, ranging from such like superstrength, enhanced durability, super speed to things like telekinesis, teleportation, flight, etc, etc.

One of them even had the ability to separate their body parts.

He kept an eye on those that had these abilities, no doubt that multiple people would try and kidnap them for nefarious purposes. Though they were incredibly small in number, caution is best to be kept, especially in a city as dangerous as that of Gotham.

He's never really made himself known to anyone other than his little Familia and a certain cat-themed criminal. He preferred to stay in his little warehouse, watching the days pass while taking care of a few kittens here and there, sleeping, eating, managing to use that Tv and computer he stole that one time to watch whatever thing is one.

It was a very calm life, all things considered.

Of course, then came a disturbance in said life, when the apparent rival Familia's wanted to meet him for one reason or another. Helpfully supplied by the first to have join his Familia, a cat with an immortality ability that he named Kevin.

Of course, he never knew Kevin had was immortal, but seeing him die one too many times and watching him get back up was prime evidence that he had one.

Apparently, his Familia was regarded as a relatively new one in the city of crime, and the other cats that were considered 'Heads' wanted to meet him for quite some time, especially when is got as big as it did and Kevin, glorious, glorious Kevin, has been going in his place to said meetings, and this district of Gotham they occupied was considered their territory.

Danny was blissfully unaware of this until today. But he decided that Kevin, sweet, hardworking, death-defying young Kevin, can continue engaging in cat politics, he wants no part in such things and Kevin has proven himself capable of handling it!

As much as he didn't want a part in this, he was persuaded to go at least once and can then leave everything up to Kevin. So he goes there, does things, talk to other 'Heads', being very vocal in his body language about how he couldn't really care less about being there.

Of course, he had to care when he sees Batman being thrown through a nearby wall and seeing as how he's heard about him from a friend (Catwoman has made it very clear how she felt about him on numerous occasions whenever they met.), he wasn't exactly keen on seeing him being smushed into a paste, so he went ghost, pure black fur being replaced by glowing white.

And then slammed right into a battle with Bane.

Kevin he swears to the Ancients if you for some reason try to get into this fight and die again, he will treat you like a kitten for the next three weeks.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #ghost prince danny #Danny is a cat #I swear to go if I see another Warrior cats in my tags #I will #Do nothing #But think about my life because I have only consumed a few episodes of Warrior Cats material and question myself.

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pholla-jm · 6 months

Text

My Angel

IMAGINE: MY ANGEL ~ SUKUNA X READER GENRE: FLUFF WARNINGS: MENTION OF BLOOD AND GORE. Nova's Notes: this is set during the Heian Era. So Sukuna is in his true form. ************************

They say opposites attract.

Sukuna has never heard the biggest bullshit in his life so far.

That was until he met you.

He was honestly going to kill you upon first sight. He thought your caring personality was so disgusting. He hated how you took care of everything you came across. A dying plant? You would nurse it back to health. An injured animal? You would also nurse it back to health.

He really found no use of you. Why would he need a caretaker when he could heal himself and take care of himself?

But when he saw your eyes paired with the softest smile he has ever seen, he faltered. And that falter made him question a lot. He has never faltered before, so why would it happen now?

Of course it made him angry. Mostly angry at you. He blames you for making him falter like this. He couldn’t even kill you because of it. If he tried, it was like some invisible force was stopping him.

That wouldn’t stop him trying to make your life a living hell though.

He took any chance to belittle you, say a snarky comment, or do anything rude. He wanted to see that cheerful personality break. Then maybe he would be able to kill you.

That’s why he kept you with him at all times. The moment he sees you falter, then he would end your life right then and there.

“Let’s go.” He tells you. “Where are we going?” “Out. I gotta do something.” “Okay.”

He hates how you were so cheery, even when he was bossing you around.

With a scoff, Sukuna turns around and leaves the castle, knowing that you were already following close behind him.

About ten minutes into the walk, you stop walking to gaze at flowers. “Look at these flowers! Aren’t they beautiful?”

Sukuna turns around to see that you were squatting while touching the petals of some flowers.

His lips pull into a frown, “no. Those are the ugliest shits I have ever seen.” “Well, that’s not nice.” You say without even missing a beat.

You look at Sukuna, a dumbfounded look on his face. Of course he wasn’t nice. He was the most evil being on the planet. And you had the nerve to say ‘that’s not nice’. Any normal person would have been killed as soon as those words left their lips. But again, he couldn’t kill you.

Sukuna scoffs, “unbelievable. Let’s go.” He turns back around, continuing his walk.

You follow next to him now, keeping up with his pace. Usually if anyone dared to walk next to him, they would be severely punished.

However, as he glanced at you from the side of his eyes, he could swear that there was a halo around you. If he could describe you right now, he would say that you looked like an angel.

But he knew that angels didn’t exist. Maybe it was lighting messing with his eyes. Yeah, it was definitely the lighting messing with his eyes.

“Stop.” He says causing the both of you to stop in your tracks. You were quiet, trying to listen to your surroundings. You didn’t hear anything, but Sukuna could definitely sense something.

Suddenly there was a shot of curse energy. You stumble back, hand clutching onto your shoulder. You realize that you were hit. But you didn’t know where the attack was coming from.

Sukuna looks at you, eyes widened just a fraction. You didn’t notice it, but Sukuna was furious that you got hit. His hands now free from his robes, ready to kill anyone that caused you harm.

Finally someone steps out into the clearing. The man was wearing traditional clothing, and it was obvious that he was a sorcerer.

“Move aside. I have no use of you.” Sukuna became confused.

All sorcerers that he has encountered tried to exorcize him. But this one was saying that he had no use for him?? Sukuna follows the sorcerer's gaze, seeing that it landed on you.

What use could he have for you?

Sukuna barked out a laugh. “Them? You’re here for them? But they’re weak!” The sorcerer laughs, “oh… King of curses. How foolish are you? Are you that stupid to be tricked by that thing?”

Oh, that pissed Sukuna off. How dare he call him foolish and stupid.

He was about to kill off the sorcerer until your voice made him freeze.

“How dare you!” Your voice was booming and it echoed in the air. This voice demanded respect. Something that Sukuna has never heard before. It was safe to say that he was intrigued. He looks back at you, his eyes widening at the sight.

Your shadow was different. There were wings on your shadow… but the wings looked different. They looked mangled and broken. There were feathers falling off the twisted wings.They moved ever so slightly causing the shadows around you to flicker.

“I am an angel of the Lord. How dare you attack me! You people disgust me. Always destroying and hurting the innocent and good.” The sorcerer lets out a mixture of scoff and laughter.

“You’re delusional! We’re not hurting the innocent. It’s creatures like him that are hurting the innocent.” The sorcerer points at Sukuna and you glare at the man.

Before the sorcerer could release another attack, his head was clean off. Blood splatters everywhere, staining Sukuna’s robes, your clothes, some even getting on your skin.

A sinister smile creeps onto Sukuna’s face. He didn’t realize how powerful you were. All it took was a snap of your fingers and the sorcerer was dead.

It didn’t take him long to figure out the situation here. You were indeed an angel, but it looks like you didn’t realize that you were a fallen angel. A powerful one at that. Maybe this is the reason why he couldn’t kill you. He was glad that he couldn’t make himself kill you. He wanted you to be by his side. And he would do anything to keep it that way.

He walks towards you, one of his hands coming up to wipe the blood off your voice. You didn’t move, allowing him to continue to free your face from any traces of blood.

His blood red eyes look into yours, “you did a good job, my angel.” A large smile paints your face, a hand cupping the one that was clearing your face.

“Thank you!"

#oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #ryomen x reader

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sunsh1n3s · 3 months

Text

— make it up. ( don hume x reader )

a.n. nurse reader is inspired by bedside manner by snappleapple on ao3. i’m studying to be a nurse and the idea was cute when i read it, so credits to them for sparking my interest :)

contains. fem!reader, swearing, sick fic, also very long i apologize i couldn’t stop writing ideas

“boys, this is your nurse, y/n. she will be here during majority of the practices if you have any pain or anything concerning to your performances. please go to her, she’s kind, she doesn’t bite.” coach ulbrickson spoke, gesturing to y/n who walked forward.

the guys couldn’t help but check her out, the action didn’t go unnoticed. y/n cleared her throat and stood next to bobby. “like you listen to your coaches and bobby, you will listen to me. anything i instruct will be beneficial for your performances and health. trust me with what i have to order, i’ve been doing this for two years now. i’ve been here longer than you guys have on the team and im in medical school, i know i have an idea with what you deal with.” she spoke.

stern, pretty, and kind. it took the guys’ attention, and like every year; they would try and flirt with her.

throughout the ongoing practices and races, y/n was seen beside the coaches. she spoke with them on training and things to heal the team, or work their muscles. she had her own small room alongside the coaches, and the boys always hobbled their way to her. along with the cries of sore arms and sprained muscles, calluses, and headaches; flirting that never touched y/n’s heart followed.

bobby stood in y/n’s office, watching as she wrapped his hand. “has anyone given up on trying to woo you yet?” he asked. the two were bonded due to the years bobby had been there, and her main focus on the varsity boys. “nobody has given up yet- but one hasn’t even dared to try.” y/n informed. bobby and y/n shared a look, “don. he hardly talks, let alone to girls.” bobby teased while y/n snickered.

“they keep asking me if we’re together.” bobby rolled his eyes, making her laugh again. “jealousy over their own cox. i’ve heard that story before.” she joked. letting him go, bobby stopped at the doorway. “i think donny is pretty head over heels though-” “oh get out.”

shaking her head and cleaning up, y/n looked back out the window and saw don walking into the locker room. bobby’s words came to mind, but she couldn’t. it was her team, her patients, she wouldn’t.

for the next months, don didn’t hear the end of it when bobby caught his stroke staring at the nurse. eventually the boys stopped because they noticed their quiet guy head over heels. it was new, and boys will be boys, so they never let don’s crush on her down.

so when it was time to get her for the train to berlin, don was the one to get her.

placing her two suitcases on her bed, y/n packed for the quick and eventful trip; clothes, uniform, accessories, and whatever she needed for schoolwork. her medical boss had packed a bag of necessities, knowing once they signed her as the nurse for the team, she’d be set with whatever else she needed.

y/n wore her uniform to match the guys’ professionalism. though she preferred her comfortable clothes, she wanted to look nice.

a knock at her door stopped her from her packing, “come in.” she spoke softly, turning to the door once it opened. she didn’t expect to see a guy, let alone don hume. it took y/n by surprise that don hume was upstairs, surpassing a strict dormitory director and several girls; just to get to y/n’s room.

“hello don.” she greeted with a soft smile, folding up the last of her clothes and placing them in the suitcase. “hi.” he said, slightly awkward. he stood with his hands behind his back, not knowing where to stand or sit. y/n looked at him again, “go ahead and get comfortable. who’d you fight to get in here?” she questioned. she closed her suitcase and started getting to the other, adjusting the books and case for her writing utensils.

“i didn’t have to fight thankfully. ms stevens is stubborn though. uh- we wanted to share with you- uh a hat. the guys and i- since you’re our nurse.” don said, moving his hands forward to show the hat that matched their uniform. y/n looked at it and smiled at him, “oh that’s so sweet. thank you.” she thanked. he nodded and handed it to her.

“what’s medical school like?” don asked, sitting awkwardly at her vanity chair. y/n smiled, “it’s interesting. i enjoy it. i think because i’ve always wanted to help people. but with now my grades excelling and everything, i get to help you guys. i’ve had to learn a new course to treat you guys. i’m practically a physical therapist alongside being a nurse.” she spoke.

she walked over to her heels and put them on, walking in front of don. “how do i look, mr. hume?” she asked. she turned to grab and put on the hat before posing for him. don was breathless and she smiled softly at him. “beautiful.” he spoke. she beamed, “thank you.” she said, shocked at how much the compliment touched her heart.

there was another knock at the door, both straightened and y/n finished packing. coach ulbrickson walked in, looking at don with slight question but brushing it off. “y/n, you ready?” he asked, checking his watch and looking at her softly. y/n nodded, closing her other suitcase and grabbing her medical bag.

“hume.” coach motioned, don realized and quickly yet gently grabbed her suitcases. she smiled at him and they followed coach out of the girls dormitory.

little cheers from the guys came down the hallway once they noticed don with the suitcases, causing him to go red and for y/n to shake her head.

boarding the train was a hassle, y/n and don rushed in. reporters yelling questions about the two at them, and girls giving glares at y/n. “god i’m just a nurse!” she yelled out the door. y/n turned on the balls of her feet and walked down to a train seat. she placed her bag in one bench and don placed the rest beside it.

y/n turned to him, “thank you don, i owe you.” she said. he shook his head, “nah you don’t-” “i insist. i’ll make it up to you somehow.” she spoke. he couldn’t argue so he nodded and bid his goodbyes. y/n relaxed in her quiet evening as they traveled while he returned to the guys; getting teased for being a gentleman.

he returned later to see her asleep, she was bunched to keep warm. don frowned and retrieved a blanket for her, his blanket. she dealt with eighteen boys daily, and soon nine in a new country. she deserved rest and comfort.

that night, he slept cold while she slept comfortable and warm. he could care less.

berlin, something new for the team. the ten students and coaches followed directions and ignored reporters. questions were shot at the coaches and y/n.

they all were led to their rooms, y/n was farther from them as she was placed closer to the hospital wing. the guys watched as she left with a few nurses and settled into the atmosphere, speaking butchered german and following a doctor.

they all settled and don became exhausted.

the next morning, he felt terrible. he was too tired to go to the introduction. “i’ll get y/n.” tom spoke, letting ulbrickson and george make sure he was alright. the boys parted ways as her heels clicked through the hallway and into the room, wearing navy dress pants and a blouse to match them- she had planned to walk out with team, but her plans now changed.

y/n had her bag and stethoscope and everyone watched as she gently checked his forehead. “no fever. i’ll watch him, you guys go and be with the team.” she spoke. george insisted on staying back, “go george, support your boys.” she spoke softly. he left and y/n turned to don, “hey donny, what’s going on?” she asked.

“just tired.” he spoke, closing his eyes as she touched his face and neck. “anything sore?” she asked. he hummed, “muscles, but not like practice soreness. heavy soreness.” he spoke. y/n nodded, she helped him change and laid him down in bed.

y/n packed her things and was ready to leave. “can you stay?” don asked, she looked at him. his hand reached out for hers, “yeah i can, i’m sure the boys will be back soon.” she said. y/n placed a chair next to his bed and his hand was still stretched out as he dozed off, she held it gently and looked out the window.

the coaches returned and y/n walked out to the hallway to talk with them. “he has a low grade fever. one he can work through if he continues to rest tonight, he said he has muscle soreness but it’s heavy. the fever is hitting his body hard because he works it enough. it’s eating at his existing exhaustion, so i’m just keeping an eye on him. is there any demand for him for the rest of the night?” she informed, leaning against the wall.

the coaches looked at one another, “not until tomorrow. is he contagious?” ulbrickson asked. she shook her head, “he’s not coughing nor sneezing. the boys should be fine, we just keep monitoring him in case he gets worse. i gave him medicine to kill the fever, so he’s okay right now.” she explained.

the next day, don had to compete with the boys to make it to the final race. y/n watched with the coaches, they stood on the boarding dock and she watched as ulbrickson spoke to them. she walked down once he was done, “are you guys feeling okay?” she asked, the eight nodded. her eyes went to the ninth, who sat tired. she walked over, “you got this don. just push through and before you know it you’ll be able to rest. how are you now?” she asked.

he shrugged, “decent.” he answered and she nodded. she shared a concerned look with bobby, bobby gave her a reassuring nod and she got up and returned to tom’s side.

they all prepared to watch the boys race; as hoped they won.

y/n checked on don before leaving to go to the hospital wing. he was decent, but looked tired. his assurances to y/n didn’t fool her. so she beat everyone to it to report his illness.

sure enough, as she spoke to a doctor, the coaches rushed in. they brought don in where he was checked up on by doctors, they prescribed him medicine and couldn’t put a diagnosis to what he was sick with; but gave y/n what she needed. the coaches left with the doctor to move the rest of the boys.

a doctor returned to the room with ulbrickson, “he can stay with me. i’ll watch him and if he’s contagious i can try to get it out of him and send myself home to prevent risking anyone else’s health.” she spoke, resting a hand on don’s shoulder. she knew what she was doing, and the doctor trusted her, so they agreed.

the boys didn’t have any urge to tease don amongst one another, but they knew it’d be something they brought up in the future.

with a bed across from her, y/n helped don into bed while she unpacked his things alongside hers. “thank you.” he spoke, quiet. “no need to thank me, it’s my job.” she said softly, walking to him. “you didn’t have to do this though.” he continued. she smiled softly, “i know.” she answered.

overnight, don got worse. he threw up after practices, y/n found him sat next to the toilet in the middle of the night. she watched as he became pale and thin, and he watched her worries grow.

the night before the big race, he sat on the bathroom floor while she wet a cloth. “y/n you’re gonna get yourself sick.” he spoke, she kneeled down and wiped his forehead with the cold cloth then rested it on the back of his neck. his eyes closed and she retrieved medicine.

“i can leave early if you’re better and i’m sick.” she stated. he looked up at her, the way the light hit her made her look angelic. “we’re lucky to have you.” he spoke, he wanted to say im lucky to have you, but his nerves stopped him. he was afraid she’d stop and leave him there to suffer, only because he admitted he was just as infatuated with her as the rest of the guys were.

she crouched in front of him with medicine and water, “and i’m lucky to have you guys. especially you.” she said, watching him take the prescription. his hands shook in pure nerves as he handed the cups back. “why me?” he asked. “you’re kinder than them, yeah they’re nice and one is my good friend. but you make me feel normal, not some big deal because i’m a nurse to eighteen guys.” she explained.

y/n sat beside him, and he looked at her. “plus you’re cute, and talented.” she added, watching him go red with a bashful smile. “you’re brains and beauty, how lucky am i to have you as my nurse.” he spoke. she blushed now, letting out a soft laugh. don smiled once she did, and he felt better just by that.

“if only you weren’t potentially contagious and throwing up, i’d give you a big kiss.” she admitted. don fought his nerves, “you can make it up to me later.” he said. y/n blushed and bit back a smile, she couldn’t respond and felt like they swapped places. all she could do was intertwine her hand with his. “you have a big day tomorrow, let’s try and rest.” she gently said.

she helped him to bed and rested a cold cloth on his forehead. y/n slept lightly that night while he slept through the night calmly, she was just happy to see him not wake up until morning.

the olympics came and y/n stood with don at the dock. he looked down at her with some nerves, she smiled at him lightly. “push through. i believe in you. america does too.” she added. she kissed his cheek and let him join the guys, he smiled and they all jokingly nudged him.

“thanks for getting our don happy and moving.” bobby thanked her, smiling and winking. y/n waved him off and smiled, “good luck bobby. yell at him if needed.” she said.

the coaches watched with y/n, the race was remarkable. y/n watched bobby spark don back up, and they pushed towards first place. it was a questionable ending.

y/n paced on the dock, waiting for the answer. ulbrickson watched ahead as the man walked to the microphone; everyone went silent as he held up the photo. “america.” he declared. cheers roared through the stadium and the boys cheered. y/n smiled and joined ulbrickson and tom, who watched proudly.

they all watched the boys pass the wreath, which they brought back to her and picked flowers for her as thanks for everything. thanks for taking care of their boy. hugs were shared and don stayed back. “how are you feeling?” she asked him. “like i could spend the rest of my life with you.” he said, boldly. the statement took her aback and she smiled, “i won’t ask you yet, but let me take you out first.” he added.

the boys cheered, knowing he was going to ask her to be with him somehow. y/n blushed, “i’m yours.” she responded. they shared a smile and returned to the team. the boys teased don all their way back to the rooms.

don sat in his bed, exhausted. y/n walked up to him and checked his forehead. “olympic winner.” she smiled, which he returned. “i won when i got to share a room with the brains and beauty we call the team nurse.” he admitted, nicknaming her the brains and beauty.

y/n beamed and couldn’t stop herself, she kissed him softly and he tensed. yet he relaxed at her touch and pulled her close, taking in the moment. she pulled away and he was blushing, smiling, and scared. “i’ll be fine, i had to make it up to you.” she assured.

— j’s note. this was super long, but i’m sure you guys don’t mind. i hope you enjoyed, and i hope to write another sometime soon! i’m busy with school and some mental stuff, but once i get ideas i’ll write you guys more.

#don hume x reader #don hume x fem!reader #the boys in the boat #boys in the boat #don hume fanfic #don hume #don hume imagine #j’s imagines

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