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zlut4rina · 1 day ago

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Imy♡

Storyline: Working overnight at a busy office job wasn't everyone's cup of tea, especially not your clingy girlfriends.

Pairings: Student!Ning x Businesswoman!reader

Warnings: public sex, phone sex, dirty talk (ithink)

Note: Both are 18+, obviously, ik I said I was making ning fluff, which I am obviously, but i wanted to make it two parts, and this just came to mind for part 1. Sorre

Word count: 2k (pretty short, idk how you could make 5k+ with just phone sex 😭)

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You hated your job. It was one of the most insufferable places on earth. But the money was good, you needed the money. You weren’t struggling to pay rent or for food. You were actually quite ahead on your bills. The reason being was because of this job, also with the help of your pretty roommate. After the fallout between you guys and a mutual friend, she was kicked out of their house. So you decided to take her in, of course. Unlike you, she was tight on money but somehow still managed to stay in her uni without problem. Ever since then, you two have been living together, then long after you bloomed a relationship with her. She was now your girlfriend of one year and three months, and you couldn’t be happier.

Present time

While finishing up a few papers left by your boss, you noticed some unopened emails on your screen. When opening them, you see at least 5 different request sent to you by a few employers and your boss. You sigh in annoyance, having a feeling you’re going to be here a bit longer than planned. Scrolling through your inbox, skimming through everything, you finally click one and start working. That’s when a coworker walks up to you, leaning on your wall divider. “How long you plan on being here, I thought only six of us had the night shift.” His question sounded genuine with concern in his voice, looking around the office as if scanning to make sure his count was right. “Seven is an odd number y’know” he lets out a stupid chuckle, one you’ve hated for so long. Looking up at him, taking you from your concentration, you spoke. “I have extra work I need to get done. Maybe I’ll be promoted, who knows. Doubt you would.” The last remark was snarky. You gave him a sarcastic smile, turning back to your work. The man left with a scoff, not before whipping a few papers off your desk, scrambling them in the process. You clicked your teeth at this. It wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t something you weren’t used to by now.

Continuing your work, already done with three of the assignments listed to you, your phone rang. Feeling the buzz on your thigh, you take it out, to your realization it was your girlfriend. You turn your head to the bottom corner of your computer screen to check the time. Seeing it was two hours past when you’d usually be home, a bit of sadness washed over you. Picking up the phone, you put it to your ear. “Hey baby, sorry I’m not home yet. I’ve got extra work I’ve gotta get done.” You spoke quietly into the speaker of your phone. Not to draw attention to yourself, your coworkers were all across the room, some just a row behind you. “It’s fine. I was just worried, is all” your girlfriend said, shuffling in bed, to get comfortable. “How long till you can come home, I miss you” she said in a whiny tone, her voice a bit hoarse due to being tired. She must’ve just woken up, you thought to yourself before answering her. “A while, baby, not too long, though. Don’t miss me too much, cutie.” You chuckled a bit as you spoke, earning a playful whine from the other side of the phone. “Hey I’m gonna connect my headphones so I can finish this work, okay, cutie?” The other girl responded in a hum as you pulled out your airpods and connected them to your phone. I'm sitting right next to your keyboard as you get back to work.

Half an hour had passed with you giggling and snickering at your phone. Finishing some more work, the other end of the call was a bit silent sometimes. She didn’t answer you with words mostly with hums or a few “uh huh’s” there wasn’t a problem in that at all, she was probably sleepy I mean its way passed 10 so of course she’s a bit less talkative. “I miss you” suddenly the other side of the phone spoke. Your eyes widened a bit, taking you out of your trance, and the corner of your lips formed a small grin. “I wish you were here right now” your girlfriend spoke in a soft tone. Barley able to hear her. “Me too, baby. I hope you're keeping the bed warm for me when I get home.” You let out a soft chuckle as she giggled quietly. Once again, you heard shuffling through the phone her sighs we slightly audible too. “Are you sleepy?” You asked after the other end went silent. It took a while to gain a response from her. “No, I can’t sleep, not yet” You laughed a bit at her words. Between the two of you, Ning was very clingy she held onto you like a lost puppy. You two were always together. She would even follow you to the bathroom sometimes. She loved being your little spoon, too, anytime you two cuddled. “You should sleep, love, I won’t be home till maybe around one in the morning” saying this caused you to frown. You really wanted to be in bed right now. Holding your favorite girl, planting sweet, soft kisses on her. But no, you just HAD to notice those emails. “I tried, I need you here, holding me. Your arms wrapped around me, I need you.” Hearing her voice, she sounded so needy, desperate. She really did need you, especially at this very moment.

“I miss you too. I can’t stand being away from you for this long. I haven’t kissed you in forever.” You whined out quietly. It really has been long, seeing as two of your coworkers have already left and headed home. “There’s a lot you haven’t done to me in a while …” the other side spoke, catching you off guard. You froze. Ruffling and strange movements were heard from your phone. It lasted a while, too. Coming to your senses, you finally connected a few dots “Like what baby” you asked in a mocking tone, smiling to yourself as well. “I think you know” her voice was husky, yet her words flew out smoothly. “Hmm I’m not sure. Maybe you could refresh my memory?” You teasingly asked her, your smiling becoming a bit bigger. “Fuck why can’t you just get here already ..” She let out a sharp sigh as she spoke. You giggled at her words, she really does miss you huh “So impatient baby, hmm I wonder what would I be greeted with if I were there right now.” You leaned back in your chair, you felt a bit cocky in this moment crossing your arms behind your head. “Your very needy, wet, horny and spread girlfriend that’s what” you could hear her soft sighs and whines through your headphones. It was a bit too quiet for your liking so you turned your volume up. “That’s a sight to see y’know, fuck I’d love to be there right now and ruin you. I bet that’s what you want huh, my fingers deep inside your aching pussy” a few moans were heard along with a few wet sounds from her fingering her pussy. “Your so disgusting, touching yourself at this hour, begging to be fucked senseless”

Giggling to yourself in the moment you check your surroundings, seeing nobody is paying you any mind you continue to focus in your desperate lover. “I bet you can’t wait for me to get home. Can’t wait for me to fucking ruin that pretty body of yours.” You bit your lip at the thought of it, sighing to yourself. Your girlfriends’ moans were getting louder, you heard a soft thud as your girlfriend placed her phone down beside her. “Fuck, I need you so bad right now!” Ning wasn’t really the time to vocalize her needs like this, she was quieter and let her body do most the talking when it came to sex between you two. Seeing this side if her changed something in you. You had to get this side out of her more often. “I can’t really hear you that well though baby, doesn’t sound like you miss me that much.” You tease her tilting your head placing your chin in your hands, staring at your computer screen. Imagining what she looks like right now. “You wanna hear how bad I need you, yea?” She took her phone in hand and turned her camera on. The camera facing the ceiling, before she slowly brought it down to her milky fingers going in and out of her drenched pussy. You could only stare at your screen, has she lost her mind ? This isn’t the same girl a few hours ago. This isn’t the same girl you gave breakfast in bed to earlier. Snapping you out of your thought, she moved her camera in all angles giving you the greatest views of her soaking wet body. “Fuck baby, see? See how bad I need you right now, you’re telling me work is more important than pleasing this?” her voice became higher in pitch the more she went on, bucking her hips into her hand. So desperate for more, so desperate for you.

The sound of her moans and the way her body moved into her hand was driving you crazy. That should be you. You should be the one pleasing her right now. Except you're stuck here watching your pretty girl work for her orgasm. Licking you’re lips at the sight, your hand slowly went down to your pants, unbutton them swiftly. Looking around the office for any wandering eyes. Your hands slipped down to your soaking panties circling your clit slowly. A soft sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes gently. Your motion on yourself fastening, closing your legs ever so slightly due to the feeling rushing inside you. “Baby ..” you whispered head falling down, biting your lip a little. Roughly enough to leave a mark. Moving from your panties you put your hand inside playing with your wet fold. Slowly teasing your entrance, moving your fingers in and out, but not the full length of them. Your girlfriends’ moans were louder than before the camera shaking, hips bucking up and down. Her tiny whines and quiet curses driving you nuts. “You close baby?” you asked working your fingers in yourself. “mhm …” She answered her voice whiney and needy. Flipping the camera she faced it to her exposed chest, cupping one breast and playing with her nipple. Of course taking her hand away from her heat upset her a bit, but she knew you loved seeing her touch herself. Just for you and nobody else. “So pretty baby, you look so good. Fuck I wish I was there to taste you” your words making her whine and bite her lip, putting her fingers back into her soaking wet pussy. “I wanna feel your tongue deep inside me, taste how good you make me feel.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, and honestly you didn’t care if anyone heard. Your too focused on the beautiful piece of art in front of you to care.

Your pace with your fingers quickened inside you, spreading your legs a little wider for easier access. Biting your lip to conceal your moans, you threw your head back against the head of your chair. Phone in one hand and the other in your pants. You could feel your climax reaching near. You could tell she was close too with the way her body was moving and how fast her hand had gotten. “You better cum baby, just for me, ruin those sheets” you gritted your teeth together and you felt closer and closer to the edge having forgotten all about your work, the time, and if the people around you were aware of your little situation. “Fuck baby I’m so close, I wanna cum in your mouth all over your face.” Her words sent you over the edge cumming all over your hands and in your pants. You wanted to close your eyes but you couldn’t look away from her perfect body and how it reacted to finally releasing all that built up tension in her code. She let out high pitched moans and cute whines as she came, not stopping after wetting her fingers she played with her clit a little more. The fast circles she was rubbing on herself made her squirt all over the bed her camera catching all of it. Her body squirmed at the pleasure and release. The call was almost quiet, all that could be heard was the heavy breaths your girlfriend was taking. Her small gasp and her little whimpers. You watched all this go down, finally growing tired of waiting you buttoned your pants up and packed your things to head out and head home to your girlfriend. “Fuck, hurry home, okay? I miss you” your girlfriend said before ending the call.

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#aespa smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #smut #aespa x fem #ningning #ningning x reader #ningning x fem reader #aespa x reader #kpop smut #kpop #ningning aespa

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mysteria157 · 2 days ago

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I apologize if this is all over the place…lots of thoughts!

Lu…

This truly made me tear up. It’s so rare to see post shibuya Nanami and I’m glad you picked up the pen. Every piece of this was so brutally emotional. To see the Nanami we know—that self-sufficient man who works in absolutes and knows exactly how much effort he wants to give—reduced to this. Alive—but scarred emotionally, mentally, and physically. Reduced to home health aides and his students. You paint it so well.

And it’s raw. The reality of this situation is that Nanami was burnt so bad. And you don’t hold back at all. Describing his wounds, the fact that he has a face mask, a cane to help him around the house.

But through it all…what really made me tear up. And I was truly tearing up, were his morning affirmations. It’s just…I don’t even know how to describe it. To know that Yuji sent them to him and Nanami decided to do it?

“I embrace healing.”

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is new to you.”

“It’s a new day. New chances.”

This is healing. The gritty, frustrating, and terrible parts of it. You don’t just bounce back from 3rd and 4th degree burns. And not only that, but you don’t just bounce back from the emotional turmoil of losing more of your close friends, of playing the part as a sorcerer.

He deserves so much love, it’s insane.

I love how you’ve written reader. You can see that flicker of tenacity in her but she’s patient and measured, funny as well and she doesn’t hover. Keeping him occupied while also assisting with the salad. The mention of her ex and how she moves on so quickly (I need to know more Lu please).

Nanami wants that independence but isn’t ashamed to admit what he needs help with. He’s trying so so hard and the scene at the end when he’s trying to cut the tomato. I could feel that frustration, that hopelessness.

“This feels like it’s never going to get getter.”

But you still paint that hope. When he asks if he’ll be able to cook again, when he finally acquiesces and asks for your help with his fork, you can see that Nanami isn’t going to give up. And we all know pookie is not a quitter.

God…I truly hope you make another part to this. The way it ends and just how much emotional ground that can be covered…this deserves a Lu Part 2. One of my favorite post shibuya nanami fics.

Thank you for writing this. Truly. I love fics that show the depth of Nanami that we do not see or are easily overlooked. I love this man so much and you made me smile while I read this. Even through the tears.

Thank you for your wonderful words, Lu 💕

Lifetime

post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader

A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.

Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.

content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.

wc: 4.9k

an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.

Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.

First at home session since being discharged.

4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.

“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.

He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.

So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.

“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.

“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”

Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”

He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.

As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.

>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.

Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.

“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”

“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.

Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.

It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.

Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.

It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.

The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.

“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.

One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Mr. Nanami?”

“That would be me.”

“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”

No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.

“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.

You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?”

Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”

Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.

“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”

“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”

The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.

“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”

“It happens.”

You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”

Nanami nodded. “Yes.”

“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”

His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”

“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”

“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”

Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”

“But you aren’t. I am.”

The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”

A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.

His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.

“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.

“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”

“What if I don’t want extensive help?”

“I would respect the boundary.”

Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”

“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”

Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.

“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”

“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”

He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”

Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”

That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.

“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”

Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”

Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.

“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”

“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.

“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”

You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”

Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”

“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”

The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.

___________________________________________

The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.

He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.

“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”

Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.

His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.

He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.

“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.

Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.

Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.

Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.

He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.

Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.

Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.

Slow and steady. Nice and easy.

“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”

He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.

The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.

The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.

The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.

Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.

He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

7:55 am.

“Timely.”

slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.

He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.

“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.

“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”

It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.

You nodded. “That sounds good.”

You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.

Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.

“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.

“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.

Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”

“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”

Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”

Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”

The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.

“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”

He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.

“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”

You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”

A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.

“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”

With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.

It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.

A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.

You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.

You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.

After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.

You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.

“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”

It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.

You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”

His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.

He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.

Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”

You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.

_______________________________________

The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.

During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.

You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.

Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.

“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”

The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.

“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”

Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”

The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”

He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”

His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.

Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.

“You have some really great knife skills.”

You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”

“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”

“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”

Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”

You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”

He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”

“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”

Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”

He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.

“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”

Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”

You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.

He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”

Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.

The fork slipped.

The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.

He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.

A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.

His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.

“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”

Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”

He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.

You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”

“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”

“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.

The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.

You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”

Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.

His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”

The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.

You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.

Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.

He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.

You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.

#mysteria’s recs #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #kento x reader #jjk kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #shibuya arc

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arxiwon · 1 day ago

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Hii! I have a request~ Professor Heeseung x student y/n? Lots of tension and brat taming? Y/n is actually smart but pretends to be dumb, causes ruckus to end up in detention all alone with him, she messes with him and his mind on a dialy. And like, initially Heeseung was holding back and actively refusing her advances but she pushes him so much, even flirts around with others in front of him and breaks numerous codes that one day his control snaps and boom! 🔥 and when he loses it? There's no stopping him.

Detention (Professor Heeseung x Bratty Reader – Brat Taming Smut)

(Tension | Edging | Power Struggle | Breaking Point | No Mercy)

The door clicked shut.

You barely had a second to process before you were caged in—trapped between the desk and Professor Heeseung’s towering frame.

"You think this is funny, don’t you?" His voice was dangerously low, a sharp contrast to the amused smirk playing on your lips.

You tilted your head innocently, feigning confusion. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh? You don’t know?" Heeseung hummed, stepping closer, forcing you to crane your neck up at him. His fingers traced along the desk behind you, slow and deliberate.

"Let me remind you, then."

His hand shot up to grip your jaw, firm, commanding, tilting your face toward him. Your breath hitched.

"You think you can tease me every damn day, parade around in that little skirt, throw yourself at other men right in front of me—" His fingers tightened ever so slightly, his thumb pressing against your parted lips. "—and get away with it?"

Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs, but still, you smiled.

"Oh? Was that supposed to make you jealous, sir?"

His jaw clenched.

"Jealous?" Heeseung let out a slow, humorless chuckle. "No, sweetheart. I’m not jealous."

His other hand slid down your stomach, teasing the waistband of your skirt.

"I’m pissed."

Your smirk didn’t last long.

Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightened just enough to make you gasp, your lips parting for him like an invitation—one he had no intention of accepting. Not yet.

"What’s wrong?" he murmured, eyes dark and unreadable. "Not so confident anymore?"

His other hand traveled lower, ghosting over your inner thigh, just barely brushing against the place where you needed him most. The heat between your legs was unbearable, but he was deliberately ignoring it, his fingers toying with the hem of your skirt instead.

You tried to press your thighs together, desperate for even the slightest friction—

But Heeseung was faster.

"Ah, ah—" His grip shifted, prying your legs apart effortlessly. His voice was pure amusement, but there was an underlying edge, something dark and dangerous. "Didn’t I tell you? You don’t get to act shy now, sweetheart. Not after everything you’ve done."*

You swallowed hard, a shiver raking through you.

"S-Sir—"

"Now you remember your manners?" Heeseung scoffed, leaning in close—so close his breath fanned against your ear, sending another wave of heat down your spine. "Cute."*

His fingers traced slow, torturous circles along your bare thigh, getting closer, teasing, but never quite where you wanted them.

"Tell me, sweetheart—" His tone was lazy, casual, like he wasn’t currently holding you hostage against his desk, making you tremble beneath his touch. "How many times did you pull this little stunt? How many times did you test me, thinking I wouldn’t do anything?"

His fingers pressed into your thigh, digging in just enough to make you squirm.

"How many times did you beg for this without saying a word?"

Your breath hitched, and Heeseung smirked at the way your body betrayed you—reacting to his every move, even as you refused to answer.

"Oh?" He tutted, shaking his head. "Not so mouthy now, are we?"

And then—suddenly—

You whimpered, back arching against the desk as Heeseung’s fingers brushed against your soaked panties—but instead of giving you what you wanted, he simply… stopped.

His smirk was infuriating.

"Look at you." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if he was disappointed. As if you weren’t already dripping for him. "You act like such a brat, but the second I touch you, you fall apart?"

You let out a frustrated breath, trying to grind against his fingers, but his other hand was already gripping your hip, pinning you down.

"Tsk, tsk." He leaned in, lips ghosting over your ear. "Did I say you could move?"

You bit your lip, frustrated beyond belief.

"Sir—please—"

Heeseung let out a dark chuckle. "Please, what?"

His fingers traced up your inner thigh again, slow, teasing, like he had all the time in the world. But when you tried to shift closer—he pulled away completely.

You nearly screamed.

"Aww, sweetheart." Heeseung tilted his head mockingly, watching the way your body twitched with frustration. "What’s wrong? Getting desperate?"

You glared at him, lips trembling, thighs clenching together in a weak attempt for relief. Heeseung watched with pure amusement.

"Not so fun when I’m the one teasing, huh?"

And then—he delivered the cruelest punishment yet.

Heeseung dragged his fingers over your soaked panties, pressing just enough to drive you insane—then pulled away again.

Again.

And again.

"S-Sir—!" You gasped, hips jerking, body trembling, so painfully close yet never quite there.

But Heeseung? He was completely unaffected.

"Oh, sweetheart." His voice was soft—mocking. "You’re shaking."*

He was enjoying this.

"Does it hurt?" He cooed, dragging his fingers over your sensitive core again—so light, so teasing, it was unbearable.

Your head fell back against the desk, tears pricking your eyes.

"Y-Yes—!"

Heeseung smirked.

"Good."

"Pathetic."

Your breath hitched.

Heeseung was watching you with pure amusement, eyes dark and filled with something cruel. He trailed his fingers up your trembling thigh again, barely brushing against your soaked panties—then pulled away just as fast.

You choked out a whimper.

"Aww." His voice was mocking, dripping with amusement. "Does it hurt, sweetheart?"

Your head fell back against the desk, frustration crawling under your skin like fire.

"Y-Yes—please, sir—"

"Please, what?" Heeseung tilted his head, pretending to think. "I’m not sure I understand, baby. You seemed so confident before."

His fingers dragged over your heat again—slow, featherlight, completely unsatisfying.

"Beg for it."

Your face burned with humiliation. "I-I am—"

SMACK.

His palm met your inner thigh, sharp and sudden. You gasped, the sting sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body.

"Not good enough." Heeseung smirked at your reaction, enjoying the way you squirmed. "C’mon, sweetheart. You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Now beg for it."

Tears pricked your eyes. Your body was on fire, every inch of you screaming for relief.

"P-Please, sir—"

"Please, what?" He leaned in, lips ghosting over your ear. "You need to be specific, baby. Otherwise, how will I know what you want?"

Your nails dug into the desk, frustration twisting in your gut.

"Please touch me, sir—please, I-I need—"

"Need what? This?"

HE PRESSED AGAINST YOUR CLOTHED CORE—JUST TO PULL AWAY AGAIN.

"Oh, sweetheart." His smirk was pure evil. "You’re shaking."

Your entire body was trembling—from need, from humiliation, from how cruelly he was playing with you.

"You really are pathetic." Heeseung clicked his tongue, watching you struggle. "So cocky, always pushing me, always playing your little games. But look at you now."

He reached down, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"All it took was a little teasing, and you’re already falling apart."

Your bottom lip trembled.

"Aww." Heeseung’s thumb traced over your swollen lip, smirking. "You gonna cry, baby?"

He was enjoying this. Enjoying how wrecked you were—how desperate, how utterly powerless.

And just when you thought he’d keep this up forever—just when you were about to completely break—

The moment Heeseung snapped, you knew you were done for.

"You wanted this, didn’t you?" His voice was low, taunting, laced with dark amusement. "You pushed and pushed—so desperate for my attention."

His grip on your hips was brutal, fingers digging into your flesh, forcing you exactly where he wanted you. There was no gentleness, no hesitation—just pure, relentless hunger.

"Look at you." He let out a dark chuckle, watching the way your body trembled beneath him. "Can’t even talk anymore, huh?"

Your mouth opened—but nothing came out.

Your brain was too fogged with pleasure, too overwhelmed by how rough he was taking you.

Heeseung noticed. And he loved it.

"Aww, baby." He leaned down, lips ghosting over your ear, smirking at your wrecked state. "What happened to that bratty attitude, huh?"

You whimpered, body jerking against his relentless pace.

HE DIDN’T SLOW DOWN.

"Oh?" Heeseung grinned, mocking you even as he ruined you. "You really can’t speak, can you?"

Tears pricked your eyes.

"Pathetic."

He grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him.

"You wanted this." His thumb pressed against your swollen lips, smirking at how breathless you were. "Now take it."

AND HE DIDN’T STOP UNTIL YOU COMPLETELY BROKE.

You were barely conscious. Ruined. Shaking.

Your body felt like jelly, limbs completely useless, mind hazy with the overwhelming pleasure he’d forced out of you. You couldn’t even form a proper thought.

But Heeseung? He was completely unaffected.

He leaned back, admiring his work—admiring you.

"Look at you." His voice was dripping with amusement, his fingers tracing over your trembling thighs. "So fucked out. So helpless."

You could barely move, much less speak—but he wasn’t done with you yet.

"Say thank you."

Your breath hitched.

You blinked up at him, vision blurred, brain barely functioning.

"W-What…?" Your voice was hoarse, wrecked, barely above a whisper.

Heeseung tilted his head, smirking. "You heard me, sweetheart."

He gripped your chin again, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to look at him.

"Thank me."

Your cheeks burned with fresh humiliation.

You couldn’t even speak properly, and he still wanted to humiliate you.

But when you hesitated—

A sharp slap to your inner thigh. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your whole body jolt.

"Did I stutter?" Heeseung raised an eyebrow. "Thank me."

Your lips trembled.

You had no choice.

"T-Thank you, sir…"

HE SMIRKED.

"Good girl."

And just like that, you were completely, utterly broken.

You were still trembling, body too weak to move, too broken to even think.

And Heeseung? He was completely fine.

No panting. No exhaustion. Just that same infuriating smirk as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear one last time.

"See, sweetheart?" His voice was low, taunting, dripping with amusement. "I always knew you were all talk."

He tilted your chin up, forcing your dazed, ruined eyes to meet his.

"Next time, don’t act like such a brat if you can’t handle the consequences."

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svgarseason · 3 days ago

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𖹭 cw: suggestive, mdni

The spotlight is blinding. Thus, to Satoru Gojo, who is always haloed in the glow of it, you were invisible, once. Another face in a dark sea of people that swirl around or break against him like waves, all without ever truly touching him.

You wish you had stayed that way. Invisible. Instead, the slide of his diamond eyes from the top of your head to the tips of your toes makes you feel like you are underneath a microscope, even from across the room. It makes you nervous and uncomfortably warm.

"Leave her alone, Satoru!" Your sister whines as he plops down on the couch next to you, his lanky limbs encroaching on your personal space as he sinks into the cushions.

"Huh?" He mimes bewilderment as he pushes his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. "Oh." His eyes slide in your direction once again as you dig your heels into the cushion and press your little body into the corner of the couch as far away from him as you can get. "Didn't see you there," he says.

You don't believe it for a second, although you make a point not to look up from your phone as you mutter a tepid, "It's fine."

You are grateful that he is distracted by a group of chattering students that gathers around him almost immediately. The way his slender fingers keep inching toward the bare skin of your thigh has you praying for the timely arrival of your study partner. Come on, Suguru, you think to yourself as you check the read receipt on your last text for the hundredth time.

Satoru excuses himself, mumbling something about the restroom, shortly after he feels the weight of you leave the couch. The only reason he comes to your sisters stupid house parties is for the opportunity to get you alone. He is eager to unravel the mystery of how you, a lesser moon, had managed to pull him into your sad, little orbit.

The wind was already giving you enough trouble lighting your cigarette before Satoru's bright voice rings out from behind you. "Whatcha doing out here all by yourself?" He asks. And, before you even have the opportunity to find your stolen breath, he's closed the distance between you and snatched up your wrists in his hands. "You're shaking?" He hums as you drop your smoke. "What's the matter, hm?"

There isn't the faintest trace of true concern in his voice and his eyes glitter with amusement as he leans in even closer. "Shouldn't smoke, you know," he says, releasing a wrist in favor of grasping your chin and prodding at the shocked 'o' of your lips with his thumb. "Don't want these pretty lips to wrinkle."

You're still stuttering, "Er... I- huh- wha-" when he presses his lips to yours. He tastes sweet like whatever fruity drink he'd been nursing. And when did your lips part, for his tongue? You hadn't meant to tug at his bottom lip with your teeth like that, although, judging by the appreciative hum that bubbles out of his throat, he doesn't mind. Your hummingbird heart threatens to burst out of your own as you tear yourself away from him and sprint towards the safety of your room.

"Can't believe you're going for that guy," Suguru, who is already lying across your bed, says with his usual easy smile as you slam the door shut behind you.

"He went for me!" You exclaim, cheeks burning. "When did you get here? I was waiting for you!"

"So it's all my fault, huh?" He says, propping himself upon an elbow and closing the book in front of him.

Before you can answer, there is a knock at the door and Satoru muffled voice whining to be let in. You can only gape at your friend with a look of wide-eyed terror.

"Let him in," Suguru says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'll deal with him." You have little choice as the slender man is already shoving the door open and wedging himself inside.

Suguru chuckles, shaking his head. "Satoru," he tuts, "that wasn't part of the plan. Rude of you to start without me."

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cakesunflower · 2 days ago

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lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 21

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

A/N: helloooo i have returned from my month long vacation and i wish i was still away but alas back to the real world. thanks for your patience while waiting for the update!

Rafe had the right idea about going to the beach. Instead of bringing beach chairs, she and Rafe spread out a sizable beach towel under an umbrella, where she prepares to lay a little out of the shade to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin. She can hear the sounds of other beachgoers over the waves crashing on the shore, the cry of the occasional seagull above.

Still standing, Isla unbuttons her denim shorts and as she shimmies them down her legs, she catches Rafe’s gaze where he’s already sitting on the chair in his trunks. His blue eyes track her actions and Isla’s stomach flutters, the corners of her mouths tugging upwards because she notes the way his spine straightens and gaze lingers on the triangular piece of fabric that makes up her bikini bottom.

He sits with his legs drawn up and arms resting on his knees, fingers lightly gripping the temple of his sunglasses as he watches her. “You’re staring,” Isla quips with a smile as she grips the hem of her crocheted crop top and lifts it over her head to reveal her dark blue bikini top, fixing the two necklaces she’s layered.

“Of course I’m staring,” Rafe scoffs, unashamed, and it only makes Isla’s smile widen, cheeks flushing.

“Alright, well—” She crouches and digs out the bottle of sunscreen and holds it out to him with an arch of an eyebrow. “How about you stop staring and start spreading?”

Rafe laughs as he takes the bottle from her. “Yes, ma’am.”

She moves with a grin, laying down on her stomach and reaching behind her to undo the knot of her bikini top, only to feel Rafe’s hand gently bat hers away. “I got it,” he murmurs.

Isla hums in thanks and folds her arms under her head, resting her right cheek against the top as she feels Rafe’s fingers deftly untie the knot. They have brought beach chairs that sit towards the edge of the large blanket under the umbrella, but lying down is easier. Even as she lays on her stomach, she feels the butterflies fluttering around inside when she feels the contrasting combination of Rafe’s warm hands and the chill of the sunscreen cream as he spreads it evenly on her back.

Isla rolls her bottom lip into her mouth, teeth grazing it as she feels his familiar touch on her bare skin and Isla has to stop herself from letting any sound escape as he soothingly rubs up and down her back. From the breadth of her shoulders, down her back towards where her bikini starts. When she feels his hands along her thighs, teasing the swell of her ass, Isla has to bite back the sound threatening to escape as electricity crackles in her veins.

“You’re teasing me,” she says, her voice a little breathless as she slides her gaze to look at him from where her cheek is resting against her arm.

Rafe is smirking above her, kneeling on the towel. The sight of him is mouth watering, his broad chest and muscular arms bare for her viewing; coupled with his hands on her body, she regrets them being in public because what she wants to do with him goes beyond the borders of public decency. “You’re the one in the bikini, sweetheart,” he responds coolly. “And you asked me to put my hands on you.”

Isla huffs despite the tickling in her stomach. “Semantics,” she murmurs as he squeezes out more sunscreen before working on the backs of her legs.

His movements and touch are slow and sensual, purposeful to make that fluttering in her stomach intensify. If she were to clench her thighs in response to the way his hands slide over the globes of her ass, Rafe would know just how deep of an effect he has on her—as if there were any question about it.

Oh, this was a bad idea. She should have known that asking Rafe to spread sunscreen on her was asking for trouble—to make her want things that they can’t do out in public. Isla does her best to focus on the sounds around them; children’s laughter, waves rushing to the shore. . . Anything to distract herself from Rafe’s fingers tickling the sensitive spot on the back of her knees.

He’s finished all too soon, even if it felt like it lasted forever, and Isla lets out a long sigh as she pushes herself up and glances at him over her shoulder. Her heart stutters at the smirk dancing on the corners of his mouth, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip before he tugs it under his top teeth. The smugness on his face tells Isla he knew exactly what he was doing as she sits up with a huff.

“You’re such trouble,” she mutters, crawling over until she’s kneeling in front of his seated figure, arms sliding around his neck as she grins. Even with their positions, he’s still got a couple of inches on her.

His smirk melts into a heart stopping grin as he looks down at her, showing his own dimples. His hands rest lightly on her hips, wiggling his eyebrows. “You want me to do your front?”

Isla narrows her eyes. “No,” she says firmly, prompting a short laugh to be pulled from Rafe. She snatches the sunscreen tube out of his hand and points at him with it. “Trouble,” she emphasizes.

His laughter rings out, the sound making a smile curve to her lips as she efficiently lathers sunscreen on her front. There’s a nice, cool breeze that’s ever present drifting from the water, salt tinging the air as Isla’s gaze wanders. Unsurprisingly, there are plenty of people at the beach—though most are teenagers and kids who are off from school.

She sees groups of friends around their spots, their laughter ringing out, and Isla ignores the longing pang that hits her in the middle of her chest as she chews on the inside of her cheek. It’s only been a couple of days, but the disconnect between her and her friends leaves part of Isla feeling hollow, as though nothing can fill the void that her Pogues normally fill. She tries to fill that hollowness with hope that things between them will soon turn back to normal, but missing her friends, no matter the state of their relationship now, is inevitable.

“Do you want a drink?” Rafe’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, dragging her gaze away from the group of friends to her boyfriend.

He’s opening the top of the cooler and Isla admires the shift of his muscles on his back with every minute movement. She pushes the ache away, wanting to enjoy this time with him. He took the day off to be with her, she knows, and Isla appreciates him all the more for it. Rafe Cameron is a sweetheart, and it’s not a side he lets others see often—if ever. But Isla is damn glad that he shows it to her.

“Sure. You got any soda in there?” It’s too early for beer, even if part of her wants it.

Ice rattles in the cooler as Rafe reaches in, Isla openly admiring the shift of his muscles at his back, until he turns and hands her the cold can of Coke. She settles on one of the chairs, Rafe right next to her as she takes a long sip of the drink, sighing in relief after she swallows.

“You gonna surf?” Rafe asks as he settles in his chair, a can of Dr. Pepper in hand.

“Ehh,” Isla sounds, squinting out at the water ahead of them. The waves today don’t seem too inspiring, so surfing doesn’t look too likely today. “Maybe not.” She shoots him a teasing grin. “Unless you wanna join me.”

Rafe snorts out a laugh, shooting her a look. “Yeah, you and I both know that ain’t happening, baby.”

Her smile widens with a laugh, head tilting back against the chair as her gaze drifts up to the inside of the umbrella above them. “Fine. No surfing, but you are gonna join me in the water.” Her tone doesn’t leave any room for argument.

His answering smile is boyish. “Yes, ma’am.”

When he turns his head to look out at the water, Isla’s gaze lingers on his profile, admiring the strong line of his jaw, his straight nose, eyes hidden by his sunglasses. He looks so at ease, a hint of a smile tilting at his mouth, and Isla’s chest swells as he stretches his legs out, digging his feet in the sand.

Just looking at him relaxes Isla’s muscles, melting back into her chair as she reaches over and places her hand on his strong forearm. “Hey.”

Rafe turns his head to her. “Hmm?”

She leans her head back against the chair, smiling at him softly as she rubs her thumb on his arm. “Thank you.”

He arches an eyebrow as he lifts his sunglasses, resting them on top of his head so his blue eyes can meet her green. “What for?”

Isla shrugs, her smile a little shy but grateful. “You could’ve gone to work today but instead you decided on having a beach day with me.” She isn’t blind to the concern that had etched in his features when she showed up at his place last night. She felt it in the way he looked at her and how he had held her throughout the night, his arms effortlessly a safe space she hadn’t wanted to leave.

She had cried and vented a little and all throughout it, Rafe listened, he held her, and he looked a little bit like he was two seconds away from confronting Kie and the rest of Isla’s friends. Isla is familiar with his anger and has seen him be fueled by it, but instead he stayed by her side and comforted her because he knew that’s exactly what she needed from him, not to play a knight in shining armor. And now here they are, with Rafe not pushing and instead giving her a sense of peace, silently letting her know he’s there for her, whatever she needs. She knows it by his actions, the way he looks at her, and the softness of his gaze makes her heart ache in the sweetest way.

“Isla.” The sound of her name in his deep voice makes her skin prickle with goosebumps as Rafe faces her, those blue eyes piercing as she meets his stare. He places his hand on top of hers that is resting on his arm. “I’d pick you over anything and anyone, any day.”

Her chest tightens at his sweet words, especially when he raises her hand and brushes a kiss along her knuckles, the touch whisper soft yet no less electrifying. She sees no lie in his eyes, doesn’t hear it in his words, and the honesty of it all fills her with a rush of excitement wrapped warmly in contentment.

They spend the next little while enjoying the warmth, feeling the gentle spray of the ocean water when it gets carried on the breeze. Eventually, Isla finds herself getting to her feet, raising an eyebrow down at a still seated Rafe as he looks up at her through his sunglasses. “Gonna join me?” she asks, holding her hand out to him and wiggling her fingers.

Rafe huffs out a laugh but doesn’t argue with her, Isla’s smile widening when he grabs her hand and lets her pull him up, their fingers interlocked as they head towards the water. The sand is warm between Isla’s toes, the soft grains hardening as they reach the shoreline where the water begins to rush up to their feet—

Until Rafe takes her by surprise and a shriek escapes Isla before she can help it when he suddenly scoops her up, an arm around the back of her knees and the other under her back and he breaks out in a run towards the water. “Rafe!” she screams through a laugh, her arms automatically hooking around his neck as he holds her firmly, not once pausing in his fast stride.

The sound of her scream is drowned out by the waves they crash into, Rafe’s grip on her tight until their bodies are halfway submerged, Isla squeezing her eyes and mouth shut as water rushes over her. It’s chilling against her warm skin as they resurface, still tangled up in each other with Rafe’s hands on her hips and Isla’s arms around his neck as they sputter out laughs.

“Uncalled for!” she exclaims through giggles, wiping at her face as she tastes the salt on her lips.

Rafe gives her a slow grin, his fingers brushing along her thighs before he tightens his grip and wraps her legs around his hips under the water, keeping them afloat. “You looked like you could cool down,” he quips, his hands cupping her ass and sending shocks of electricity through her, even under water.

“Thanks so much,” Isla responds sarcastically through a smile, one of her hands raising to run her fingers through his hair, slicking the wet hair back and away from his forehead. The water continuously laps around them, Rafe keeping them afloat, and the softened look in his eyes makes her heart skip a beat or two. Her throat locks up briefly before she says, “I hope you know that I don’t have any regrets. I’m not happy about how my friends found out about us, but I’m glad they know.”

Rafe looks at her inquisitively, blue eyes searching green. “Even with how things are between you guys right now?”

Isla nods, smiling a bit; a little sad, but still edging towards happy simply because she’s here with him. “Yes,” she answers truthfully, not missing the relief that flashes across his eyes. She doesn’t blame him for it. “It’ll all work out,” she reiterates for both of them.

Maybe it will come true if she says it enough.

Rafe’s expression softens, the glow of the sun making him squint a bit at her, his sunglasses forgotten where they were sitting. She doesn’t shy away from his gaze and instead holds it steadily, readily, as her fingers play with the wet hair at the back of his neck and her smile grows slightly.

And it’s as though her smile triggers something in him because he’s instantly closing the gap and Isla’s eyes slip shut when his lips meet hers in a sweet but sea-salty kiss that has her heart tripping over itself, as per usual. Isla’s legs around Rafe’s hips tighten as she inhales sharply, lips opening under his to let his tongue slip in. She loves the feel of him against her, holding him close, just as she feels and hears Rafe groan quietly.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you, you know that?” he mutters into their kiss, his teeth grazing along her bottom lip. “Never knew I could want someone as much as I want you, all the damn time.”

His words, husky but weighed with honesty, have Isla’s pulse skittering, a soft moan caught in her throat mid-kiss because he just has that kind of effect on her. She can’t form a coherent thought, not with the way he kisses her like he wants to devour her—and she’ll happily let him. To have someone like Rafe be obsessed with her? It tickles her ego almost as much as it does her heart.

“Rafe. . .” If he keeps saying things like that, she’s going to so easily fall in—

Everything comes to a halt when she’s suddenly yanked under water, allowing her a millisecond to gasp before she’s submerged and hears the muffled sound of her name being yelled before someone else is being pulled under—probably Rafe. Heart racing in mild panic, Isla squeezes her eyes and mouth shut while kicking her legs, effectively getting rid of whatever had grabbed her ankle, and swims to the surface as she tries to will her racing pulse to calm down. What the hell was that?

When she breaks through the surface, she hears riotous laughter before seeing who it belongs to, gasping for breath as she wipes her face before blinking her eyes open. Annoyance floods her veins when she catches sight of Topper and Kelce, the two of them high fiving as they laugh, feeling Rafe’s presence next to her.

His hand finds her waist under water as he asks, “Are you okay?”

Isla looks at him, clocking the blonde hair that flattens wetly on his forehead, hiding the crease that forms to accompany the concern in his gaze—concern edged with his own annoyance. She likes that his first instinct is to check on her, and despite her irritation with the two guys laughing as though they pulled off the world’s funniest prank, she nods and offers Rafe a slight smile.

“I’m okay,” she confirms, kicking her legs to stay afloat.

Rafe’s blue eyes seem to give her a once over before he purses his lips and nods, turning to the other two guys. “The fuck is your problem?” he demands, his voice hardening with a sharp edge that Isla is glad she’s not at the receiving end of. Especially when it immediately seems to falter Topper and Kelce’s laughter, though that stupid, smug look remains on Topper’s face. “You think that shit was funny?”

Topper shrugs, glancing at Kelce. “Made me laugh,” he responds, making Isla roll her eyes. He’s so fucking childish. “Though I gotta say, man,” he continues, running his fingers through his wet blonde hair. “Nothing’s a funnier joke than you sleeping with a Pogue.”

Instead of staying quiet like he should, Kelce pipes in, “Guess you and your sister have the same type.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Isla mutters under her breath, treading close enough to the shore that she feels the sand brushing against her toes. “Will you ever grow up?”

She swims towards the shore and walks out of the water, shaking her head in annoyance as she walks towards where her and Rafe’s things are. God, what the hell is their problem? They saw her and Rafe enjoying a moment to themselves and they just had to interrupt and ruin it? Rafe had told her he’s been putting distance between himself and Topper, but it seems as though Topper didn’t get the message.

Reaching their spot, Isla grabs her towel and starts drying herself off, and it’s not long until she hears Rafe behind her. “I’m sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize for them,” Isla replies as she turns to face him, only to catch sight of the guys past Rafe. Another annoyed huff escapes her as she bends at the waist to dry her legs. “Why the hell are they walking over here?”

Rafe instantly turns around and Isla sees the way he straightens, the muscles in his back tensing. He shifts ever so slightly, as if he’s shielding Isla from Topper and Kelce’s view as they approach. Isla drops her towel and grabs her denim shorts, sliding them on as she watches them warily, teeth pressing together as she wonders, not for the first time, why Topper can’t just fuck off.

“We were talking, man,” Topper calls out with his arms stretched out as he looks directly at Rafe. “It’s pretty rude to walk away in the middle of conversation.”

“I got nothing to say to you,” Rafe replies, his skin glistening with water under the bright sun. “I told you the other day, didn’t I? I’m done with your shit, Top. So—” Rafe waves his fingers in a shoo motion that almost makes Isla laugh. She smothers it though when she sees Topper’s features harden. “This conversation is useless.”

Kelce purses his lips while Topper slackens his jaw, his tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek as he slides his gaze over to Isla, who definitely doesn’t hide behind Rafe. She fully sees the contempt in Topper’s gaze, the disgusted curl of his lip, and the animosity is almost enough to knock the air out of her lungs.

“Wow,” Topper scoffs, looking back at Rafe, who has a few inches on Topper but he doesn’t appear intimidated. Idiot. Eyes narrowing and a contemptuous smirk making its way onto his face, Topper says to Rafe, “She’s got you so wrapped around her finger, huh, that you just dropped your best friends because of her?”

Isla presses her tongue to the back of her bottom teeth from saying anything. She can see the tension cording Rafe’s muscles, and she doesn’t want to push things. Not when she can just tell, from his body language, how pissed off he’s getting. And Isla notes that Kelce can see, too, because his dark eyes keep darting between Rafe and Topper, bracing himself as if to step in and keep things from escalating. At least he’s got some sense.

“Careful, Top.” Rafe’s voice is a low warning. “You made it easy with all of the stupid shit you’ve said and done to her and my sister.”

Despite the tension tightening the air, pride swells in Isla’s chest at Rafe’s words. It’s a little conflicting, because she never wants to be a reason for Rafe losing his friends, just like she knows the feeling is mutual for him despite the fact that he doesn’t get along with my friends. But, at the same time, Topper has been relentless in trying to get back Sarah and instigating things with the rest of them. If Rafe realized how shitty Topper’s behavior is and decided to cut him off, Isla can’t blame him for it. She doesn’t want to take the blame, either. It’s all on Topper, isn’t it?

“Oh, come on, man,” Topper scoffs with a roll of his eyes, unconvinced at Rafe’s change of heart. As if the concept of being a decent human being and leaving people alone is so foreign to him. He gestures towards Isla. “This fucking Pogue’s got you so pussy whipped that—”

He never gets to finish his sentence, which no doubt would have been insulting to Isla and her relationship with Rafe. Instead, the next sound out of Topper is a pained groan that follows the thud of knuckles colliding with bone, and Isla’s heart jumps to her throat in surprise as Topper tumbles down with a muted thud onto the sand on his back, a hand cradling his jaw as his expression scrunches up in pain.

“Shit,” Kelce mutters, looking as though he’s not sure if he should check on Topper or not interfere at all.

Meanwhile, Isla is staring wide eyed at Rafe; not scared, but surprised that he threw the punch in the first place. But Rafe doesn’t look at her. Instead, he’s standing over Topper, his right hand still curled into a fist, and Isla can see the fury darkening his face as he glares down at Topper, Rafe’s blue eyes so icy Isla can almost feel the chill of them.

If other beachgoers have noticed what’s going on, Isla doesn’t pay them any mind. Her concerned gaze is on Rafe—worried that Topper might get to his feet and throw a punch of his own. And while Isla knows Rafe can handle himself, she doesn’t want him to have to get into a fight. She doesn’t want any unnecessary harm coming his way.

“I told you to be careful,” Rafe says, his voice so lethally calm that it threatens to send shivers down Isla’s spine. His frozen glare doesn’t leave Topper, who stares up at Rafe in a combination of shock and anger. But Rafe is larger than life, towering over Topper; if he wanted, Isla’s sure he could crush Topper under his foot. Rafe doesn’t crouch to Topper’s level, just stays standing over him, muscles rigid. “Don’t look at her. Don’t talk about her. Don’t even think about her. I hear you running your mouth about Isla or Sarah or any of them, and I won’t pull back the next punch.”

Is it wrong to be turned on by his threat? It probably was but, God, Isla doesn’t care. She stands behind him, bottom lip curling into her mouth slightly with a quickening pulse as Topper slowly rises to his feet, sand sticking to his skin as he lowers his hand from his jaw that will probably have a bruise coloring it by tonight.

“You’ve totally lost it, man,” Topper scoffs out a laugh, staring at Rafe as if he’s never seen him before. But Isla can only see him.

Kelce is by Topper’s side. “Top, come on, man,” he says, clasping Topper’s shoulder as if to yank him back.

But Topper’s not listening, his incredulous gaze fixed on Rafe. “You’re gonna turn your back on your friends for a relationship that has no future?” He scoffs again, smirking as if he knows better than Rafe. “You think she’s going to pick you over her friends? I almost feel sorry for you. She may live on our side of the island, but she’s a Pogue,” he spits out and Isla almost flinches. Almost. Instead, she just stands by Rafe’s side, glaring at Topper and hating every word that comes out of his mouth. “They all stick together. You’ll see that soon enough.”

Isla’s heard enough. “Fuck off, Topper,” she says tightly with a lift of her chin, unwavering under his scowl. “Before Rafe gives you a black eye to match.”

Rafe’s jaw clenches, dipping his chin in threat. “You heard her.”

Kelce gives Topper a tug, who gives them one last sardonic smirk. “See you around,” he says before turning and walking off.

Isla loosens a breath as she moves around to stand in front of Rafe, who is glaring after Topper. She sees the muscle in his jaw jumping continuously, the sharp features of his face tightened in aggravation. “Hey,” Isla says softly, instantly getting his attention as he turns his head to look down at her. The anger in his eyes is still present, but it seems to soften slightly as she offers him a gentle smile. “Are you okay?” she asks while reaching for his right hand, her fingers carefully circling his wrist.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbles as Isla lifts his hand to observe it. His knuckles are already reddening as Isla gently brushes a thumb over them. Her chest twists at the idea of him feeling any kind of pain—physical or otherwise—as her throat works. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” she answers, and it’s almost the whole truth. Isla considers hiding the rest from him, but decides against it ultimately, her gaze still on his bruising knuckles. “I hate that this is how our day together turned out.” A breathless, hollow laugh escapes her. “It’s like we’re getting hit on all fronts. My friends and now yours.”

“Topper isn’t my friend. Not anymore.” Rafe’s stern words have Isla’s head lifting, catching sight of the look on his face; determined, firm, unyielding. “I should’ve stopped hanging around him the second he started acting crazy after Sarah dumped him.” He lets out a sigh, his other hand coming to rest on the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I’m sorry he said all of that shit. It was uncalled for and screwed up.”

Isla presses her lips together, nodding even as her throat dries. You think she’s going to pick you over her friends? I almost feel sorry for you. Topper’s words ring out in Isla’s head, eyebrows furrowing as she wishes the redness on Rafe’s knuckles would disappear. There isn’t any truth to what Topper said because at the end of the day, Isla doesn’t want to make any kind of choice. She wants Rafe and her friends, and it shouldn’t be a fucking choice in the first place.

Her stomach tightens in anxiousness that she can’t seem to ignore. Her skin prickles and it’s not because of the sand sticking to her in places. Isla can feel Rafe’s gaze on her, expectant, and the words tumble out of her. “You don’t believe him, do you? That I’d. . . Choose my friends over you?”

Even saying the words make her chest clench uncomfortably. The mere idea of losing him makes her heart hollow out and leave a bitter taste in the back of her mouth. And it’s the same kind of feeling she gets at the idea of losing her friends, too. She wants them all. She doesn’t care if that sounds selfish or, worse, unrealistic.

“Baby.” His softened voice saying that one word has Isla’s head lifting to meet his gaze once more, his thumb stroking her cheek once more as he gives her a fond half smile that makes her pulse skitter. She’s sure he can feel it against his palm on her neck. “I think you would’ve made that choice by now if you were ever going to. But it’s not a choice I want you to have to make in the first place.”

The earnestness in his voice makes the breath catch in Isla’s throat. He’s too good for her and she wishes so desperately her friends could see that. She wants them to know this side of Rafe; the soft, sweet side that puts her needs above everything else. And Isla doesn’t want him to ever doubt her and her feelings for him. She has fallen into him slowly but deeply, as obsessed with him as he is with her. The idea of losing him isn’t something she’s willing to even entertain.

Isla sighs, head tilting to the side as she gives him a smile only for him. “You’re a good man, Rafe.”

She means it deeply. The flare in his eyes tells her he knows it, too.

He kisses her in thanks.

taglist: @jenniesbuttercup-blog @combatbabys-world @talkfastromance4 @you-got-me-starry-eyed @invisiblexcth @freshsturniolo346 @theafournier97 @danismyth04 @fl0werlver @perfectprettypisces @pameluuu @melsbels-zip @gabrielaperez11 @katieeeeb @cenzie811148

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goreandbunnies · 9 hours ago

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❝ 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛!𝚂𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺

Inspired by @sweetlandspos ‘s fanart ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You see him again on campus a week later as you’re eating lunch in the park, nose in a book, not noticing that he spotted you from a mile away and has been watching you for a moment until he grew too impatient to wait any longer.

Dealer!Sukuna who sits across from you on the picnic table, wearing shades and grinning like he just won the lottery. He leans in and peeks at the cover of the book you’re reading, snickering when he sees the spicy themed cover.

“I knew you were a fun one under that shy attitude,” he teases before picking up a fry from your lunch and munching on it, his pink hair dancing in the warm breeze as you look up at him.

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to sound resigned and confident but you almost choke on the words.

You’ve been thinking about him. Of course you have. The campus’ bad boy offered you to spend a night with him and you just ran away like a scared cat. You were torn between shame and regret but also still deeply turned on by the memory of that night. The missed opportunity drove you mad, until now.

Dealer!Sukuna kept his promise to himself and started chasing after you.

“Do you want the polite version or the truth?” He asks back, grinning before placing a cigarette between his teeth. He leans back, throwing his shades on the table as his knee gently bumps into yours under there, sending electric shockwaves between your legs.

“Both,” you reply shyly, smiling a little. No harm in chatting with him and teasing back, right?

“Well first I’d like us to be friends, baby,” he shrugs, drawing attention to the tattoos on his massive arms, his black tank top clinging to his upper body and not doing a good job at concealing how huge he was. He nods at you and leans over, you mimic him, like two friends sharing a secret. “Then I’d have you in my bed, making sure I’d ruin you for other men in the future. Fictional or real,” he adds mockingly, glancing at your book.

Your breath is hitched, you feel too hot in your own skin and his presence crushes you in the best way. He’s intoxicating, much like the drugs he likes to consume. You wish you could be free to give in, to want him back openly, maybe even make him work for it a little since he wants it - you - so bad. But your studies are too important, you’re too focused on your goal to ruin your chances because of a frat boy. No matter how tempting.

“I- I’m not interested, sorry,” you tell him, frustration and regret gnawing at your gut.

Dealer!Sukuna who sees right through your lies. He knows the effect he already has on you.

“One night, that’s all I’m asking for,” he offers, finishing his cigarette and crushing the butt on the wooden table. “If you don’t want to see me again after that, I’ll let you go,” he lies. But you believe him and this time, it’s too tempting to refuse. Again.

Besides, one night of fun can’t be that harmless. Most students get trashed weekly and yet they still graduate. One night to unwind with the hottest guy on campus wouldn’t put your plans in danger. It’s been forever since you’ve had some adult kind of fun, sticking to smutty books to make sure not to get attached or too distracted by a real man.

“What do you say, Princess?” He insists, one of his long legs sliding between your pressed thighs, prying them open. You let him.

He doesn’t look like the type of guy who gets attached anyways. You tell yourself that you can spend that one night with him then just lie, tell him it wasn’t that good and get back to your bland, boring life. You already know any sex with him would be life changing. It scares you a little. He scares you even more.

“Okay,” you eventually give up, heart pounding in your chest.

Dealer!Sukuna whose eyes light up with malice and excitement the second that small word comes out of your mouth. He’s not the type to work for things, he’s used to people coming to him and giving everything he wants on a silver platter.

This is a first for him. Just like it’s a first for you too. You’ve always made sure to keep away from trouble and he always stuck to the wilder girls out of habit. None of them had sparked a similar interest in him.

His hand reaches out and cups your chin gently. His hand smells like the cigarette he just smoked and this alone ignites something in your lower belly.

“Clear your schedule for me tonight then,” he demands, impatient. You shake your head.

“Not tonight,” you feel stupid for saying no yet again. But you need more than an afternoon to prepare yourself for a whole night with him.

Dealer!Sukuna who lets go of your face, huffing as he collects his shades on the table and snatches a pencil from your stuff. He scribbles his phone number on the margin in the book you’ve stopped reading.

“Up to you now, princess,” he slides the book back to you before getting up, his playfulness gone as he leaves you there, alone.

Your face falls as you glance at the phone number, feeling like you’ve just lost your opportunity to step out of your comfort zone. The one chance to experience more. Defeated, you collect your belongings and head to your next class.

The entire lecture, your mind is on the number written in that book, wondering whether or not you should text him and apologize - what for, being a coward? Or simply tell him that you can’t see him tonight because you’re too nervous. You end up doing nothing, going along with your day.

You’re walking to your last class when a strong hand snatches you from the corridor into a fire exit. Before you can scream, that same hand covers your mouth as you’re being pinned against a wall. Pink hair and crimson eyes come into view and you suddenly become acutely aware of the proximity between your body and his.

Dealer!Sukuna who is just tired of waiting for a taste of his new favourite drug.

♡ Taglist : @gojoscumslut @bohoooitsme @call-memissbrightside @yuujispinkhair @seellove @s3ns4ti0n4l ♡

Dividers by @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #Sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #jujustu kaisen #jjk au #jjk fluff #jjk smut #tw drugs #sukuna headcanons

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nthewriter · 15 hours ago

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(This gif cracks me up)

Being Simon's long lost biological child

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 (you are here)

"You're heartless." Johnny spat, venom in his voice, arms crossed over his chest as he leant against the doorway. "I thought you were better than that, honestly."

Simon stayed quiet, sitting on their bed. He kept his eyes downcast to his hands. There was a storm of turmoil inside of him. In a way, he blamed himself for what had happened to his child. The indoctrination during high school, the fact that they viewed Makarov as a martyr, and how could he forget the way they glared at him, spitting, "You will never be my father. Makarov is more my father than you!". That shit hurt.

His hands were wet. Without realising, tears had been rolling down his cheeks. He tried to make it stop, but he couldn't. Simon felt the bed dip under the way of Johnny as the other man gathered him in his arms, a reassuring kiss on his forehead.

"It's okay -"

"No, it's not, Johnny!" Simon cried out in anguish. "It's all my fault, I should have- I should have stayed more, I should have recognised the child as my own, Elsie talked to me about it and I said no because I am a dumb fucking man who only cares about himself."

"That's not true, Simon." Johnny tried to comfort him.

But Simon just whimpered and then broke free from the embrace. Truthfully, he had always felt regret toward his relationship with Elsie and his child.

Moving toward his closet, he opened it, reaching for a hidden box. It was an old shoe box worn over, but Simon had put tape all over it. He wasn't huge on keeping things, but he had taken care of this shoebox as if it were the most preciois thing in the world. Johnny didn't say anything, just threw it a curious glance.

"So her name was Elsie." He finally whispered.

"Elsie MacMillan." Simon nodded as he brought the box over to Johnny, and he opened it.

Johnny's eyes widened at the sight. There were some pictures, one of a younger Simon holding a baby. Another one of a woman with the same hair and eye colour as Simon's kid, giving the child a bath with a huge smile on her face. There were also some mementoes.

"She wanted to be a lawyer. She said I didn't have to stick around, but I felt bad at first." Simon told him as he showed him her picture. "She was a student when she had (Y/N), so I tried to help. I really tried. But I thought fatherhood wasn't for me."

Johnny nodded absently, looking through the pictures. The woman was Scottish, as he had guessed with her name. He couldn't but smirk. So Simon had a type after all.

"It wasn’t romantic." He coughed when he saw Soap's smirk. "We weren't a couple or anything."

"But you tried. That's all that matters." Johnny told him. "But you also fucked up."

"How... how do I fix this?"

"Sarah said the therapy was going well, that they were seeing cracks into the ideology the Konni gave them. Maybe you two should spend time together. A child-dad moment. That won't fix everything, but that is a good start."

"Where would I be without you, Johnny?" Simon chuckled before nuzzling his companion's neck, planting a kiss there.

"Dead in a coffin."

"Uh. True." Simon's eyes wandered to the other pictures. There was one where Elsie had her diploma, holding the child with a huge smile on her face. "She was so young. She didn't deserve that."

“It's a pretty picture.” Johnny spoke again in a murmur. “There's still some places on the wall you know? We could hang those next to our wedding's pictures and the vacation ones.” He offered. “It would do the kid some good. You can't erase that part of your life Simon. Elsie needs to be remembered in some way or another.”

Simon let Johnny gather some pictures from the box before walking to a chest of drawers, pulling out frames and starting his work delicately with the pictures. He knew his husband was right: he couldn't run from his past.

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod x reader #ghoap #platonic #x gender neutral reader #cod platonic #cod x you #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #simon riley x john mactavish

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simp-ly-writes · 14 hours ago

Text

House of Talis

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.13)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: With a miniature Talis on the way, you grow weary of how your husband will react.

─ · · TAGS: epilogue kinda, fem!reader, pregnancy and labour (non-descriptive), overprotectiveness, second-person perspective, depictions of panic/anxiety, happy ending, domestic fluff, married life.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,036

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: hope you enjoy, this is the finale!

─────── · ·

─ · · After the two weeks of Jayce... putting you 'out of commission' so to speak. You were embarrassed to say just how foggy your mind and sore your body felt going back into the everyday swing of things; going to the lab, helping graduate students with their studies at the academy, and writing thank you letters to the wedding gifts you received from foreign diplomats... your brain was fried before the clock had even hit noon and you hadn't even started on editing your book to be published by the end of the year.

─ · · You felt disorientated, the stark pick-up of life again after feeling like you were floating of bliss from days of end to powering on your mind to think critically and converse with the public had you feeling increasingly overwhelmed as the hours ticked by and days progressed. You woke up happy- sure a little woozy but feeling fine, by mid-morning you were stressed, afternoon?- sad and longing to see Jayce and before you knew it evening hit and you were getting pissed off at Evren.

─ · · Evren had decided to stay and had gotten a job at the Academy. He loved riling you up about your's and Jayce's vacation period- watching as your cheeks warmed and the way you shuffled on your feet before trying to change conversation. Evren also had started a committed relationship with Jayce's ex-secretary that served as perfect rebuttal for all of his questions.

─ · · It was finally Friday, you had survived your first week back by a hair and were anxious to leave the Academy on time to be home ahead of Jayce- a handful of letters and your best friend the only barriers from leaving.

"Evren! I'm trying to work and you keep distracting me," you whine, rubbing your hands across your tired face, "can you talk to me in an hour? I just have to get these letters in before the office closes."

Evren stares at you for a long while, leaning back in his chair across from your desk with a small smile appearing on his face, his foot bouncing on his knee as he looks out the window contemplative. You look up, seeing that he hadn't left yet with a sigh, now looking at you with a mixture of joy and... concern? "What?" you ask, yourwince again at how sharp your tone appears as you apologize softly before double checking your writing.

"Do you feel... different?" Evren asks quietly, leaning forwards slightly to make the conversation feel smaller, you slowly tare your gaze back up while sealing the envelope, "different? well yes, I just came back from vacation, Ev," you explain with a chuckle before standing up quickly to grab your coat once seeing the time.

You stumble slightly forwards as Evren rushes to a stand and level yourself, "woah there short stuff, I'm really worried, I think you-"

"I'm feeling fine, Evren. Just need some more sleep and I should be good as new," you cut him off and explain, shrugging off his touch and shrugging on your coat before opening the door and signalling your friend out of the laboratory to lock for the day.

Evren stands still within the space, shaking his head and pulls you back in, shutting the door once hearing footsteps down the hall. He keeps his hands gripping your shoulders, unknowing to how you'll react to his next works. You watch as his glasses slip down his nose, exploring his stressed face fully. "Ev?" you call out, blinking and taking in his rigid stance, "everything alright?"

"I'm fine its just..." Evren sighs, choosing his next words with extreme caution, "...fuck it I'm just going to say it. Are you pregnant?" You blink once... twice... then thrice at his words. At first you are appalled, opening your mouth for what you thought to be a poor off-hand comment before quickly shutting your mouth as panic sets in and you analyze your recent week...

Nausea, mood-swings, fatigue, and tender muscles... fuck. Evren watches as a dozen emotions cross over your face before you feel him pulling you into a firm hug as your body starts to shake. "Ev?" you ask in a timid tone, gripping his back tightly- almost certainly ruining his knit sweater.

"Ev I," you choke up on your words, blink profusely as Even stands there holding you and rubs your back gently. "Hey, I'm here with you in the lab and you're picking apart my girlfriends least favourite sweater I own- she'll thank you for that." You barely process a laugh before choking back a sob, pressing your head into his chest.

"What tears are those?" Evren asks gently, "I just need to know if I have to get out my old kickboxing equipment or not." That comment has you coming back to the surface as you shake your head. "No, Jayce and I have wanted to start a family," you pull away looking down at your shoes, "I think I'm happy but I'm also just... scared- I just. I've never been through something like this..." you bite your lip, furrowing your brow before opening your eyes wide to meet Evren's curious gaze, " shit how far along am I? I should go see my doctor..."

Evren's nods, "yes, that would be a very good idea... should I let Jayce or someone of Jayce's office know?" You pause, thinking for a moment, "...no, I want to do that once I know for sure." Evren nods before extending his arm for you to take, you grip his arm like a lifeline, locking the door- feeling a cool wisp of air follow you out, thank you for the support, Viktor, I really need it now more than ever.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce could feel every mark you left across his back and neck, groaning every time he move from a sitting to standing position in between meetings. Mel tried not to laugh seeing her fellow councillor wince at someone slapping his shoulder in thanks a bit too hard (while it was done lightly) or how poorly his collar covered the bites across his neck- doing his best to remain professional and keep conversations surrounding the city not his personal life to the many curious stares.

─ · · His eyes are heavy, hair dishevelled by how many times he's wrung his fingers through it as he sits behind his desk meeting with tradesman after officer, hearing out how the city was developing.

─ · · When Jayce gets wind of you at the clinic, his heart dropped, hands gripping the wood of his desk and shoulders tense as he stood up slowly and rigid. Sudden images of you in that Piltover of despair, the smell of blood and the sight of a thousand corpses had him breathing in sharply through his nose before he was rushing to get his coat and sprinting down the cobbled streets. Please be okay, please be okay, fuck, please, Jayce prayed, taking a sharp right turn and nearly bumping into someone.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your feet swung back and forth off the table, your hand gripped Evren's tightly as you waited not so patiently for the results. You both looked towards the door, hearing a commotion from outside, rushed footsteps, heavy breathing and a sharp tone. "No. I must- my wife-"

"Councillor Talis. You must understand that-"

"What do I fail to understand? She came to a doctor suddenly without prior appointment and was seen nearly in tears by some of her students- please, at least let me see her if I can't speak with her- or let her know I'm here for her-" You bite your lip, seeing Jayce's tall outline from behind the curtained windows before looking towards Evren nervously seeing as his jaw is tense, shoulders rigid, "How'd he know so quickly?" Evren mumbles to himself, "Thought we were better at this hiding thing," he jokes.

That gets you to laugh as you loosen your grip on his hand, immediately the voices stop from outside. Jayce closes his eyes at the sound, relief flooding through his mind, you were alive, you were laughing, yet his hands still shook, needing to see you, to hold you, to physically know you were alright.

Jayce stays firm in his position as a nurse grips his arms, urging him back to the visitors gallery yet the Councillor watches as a doctor walks down the hall and towards the room he believes you to be in, two nurses follow behind, clipboards and bags tightly pressed against their chest as Jayce's heart leaps out of his own.

He see's a flash of your hair before the door is closed swiftly behind the group of medical professionals. Jayce takes a step forwards, another nurse grips his other arm, they shake their heads, "Mrs. Talis has not requested for you... yet. Please respect the lady's decision."

Jayce grits his teeth before nodding and following them back, not before looking and trying to stare through the door, eyes begging to catch another glimpse... instead Jayce glares at the white tiled floors, ears filled with white noise as he bounces his knee anxiously. Head jumping to every sudden sound he can hear down the hall.

Jayce's heart hurts as much as his brain, trying to figure out why didn't you immediately call for me?

─────── · ·

─ · · "Mrs. Talis," the doctor bends down in front of you face stoic yet eyes gleaming with happiness that she tries and hides. "Yes?" you respond, leaning forwards, a subconscious hand moving towards your stomach in wait. "Congratulations, you are expecting," she announces.

─ · · You stare at her for a moment before your shaky hands grasp the paper results, pressing them against your chest, feeling your rapid heartbeat. Evren stands off to the side, giving you space to feel out the moment. Your eyes look up at his, shining with tears as you let out a chuckle in disbelief, "I'm pregnant," you state softly and slowly to yourself, "I'm pregnant!" you say with much more confidence, "oh god, I'm pregnant," you tell yourself.

Evren laughs unsurprised that you and Jayce were having kids so shortly after your wedding, "you have no idea how much money you just made me, thank you and congrats!" Evren grasps your shoulder pulling you in for a hug. You shake your head at your friend. "I don't even know what to do-I-"

"Shush you. You have me, Jayce's mom, Jayce- who I'm sure is going to be a mother hen and is loosing his mind over you again..." Evren trails off patting your back as you pull away," I guess I should tell Jayce now?" you question.

The doctors, nurses, and Evren all look at you, slowly nodding, "I think thats a good idea, ma'am."

─────── · ·

─ · · You don't look to see the door open, the room is dead silent as you stare at your shoes, head lowered. Jayce curses, footsteps rushed as he kneels in front on you, hands resting on your knees, chin lowering to your lap, "sweetheart?" he calls out so softly you felt yourself falling for him again.

You hear as Evren gags in the corner, picking up your head a slight bit to catch the glare Jayce throws back, biting the inside of your cheek to contain a laugh. Jayce thinks you to be crying by the way your shoulders jitter, hands racing to hold your waist as he kisses the top of your head. "I'm here, always. Tell me what I can do- or I can listen, whatever you need," Jayce holds you so delicately, not wanting to overwhelm you but not being able to stop his need to ground himself to you physically.

You don't answer right away, instead peeling his hands away from yourself as you observe his eyes that stare widely into your own, confused, worried.... scared as you drop your touch, his hands shaking down by his sides.

Evren clears his throat, "She's not divorcing you man, stop thinking that." Jayce looks to you, shoulders slumped, eyes begging like a puppy kept out in the rain. The word alone sends him into a stressed state as he begins pacing around the room, gripping at his tie and shirt that feels too tight all the sudden, "No, please- I. I'll do better I promise I- you don't have to leave," Jayce begs.

"Jayce, I'm not divorcing you," you cut off your husband, standing slowly and walking over, pressing your head against his back, looping your fingers through his belt loops and glaring at Evren, look what you did. Evren simply raises his hands, backing out of the room and closing the door.

Jayce lets out a breath, placing his hands atop yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself tightly against him, "I'm pregnant, Jayce. You're going to be a father."

Jayce blinks slowly, breath hitching as he stills in your hold, me... a father... wife... pregnant... "Jayce?" you call out, panic settling into your bones again at the sudden thought of having to do this all alone.

Jayce spins around in your hold, picking you up quickly, peppering your face with kisses as you laugh, "my wife, my gorgeous wife pregnant with my baby." Jayce thinks he couldn't be happier, does not know the words to formulate how perfect his life feels right now.

You nods your head at his words as he gently sets you down on the table, hands cupping your stomach, "I'm mad at you though Jayce."

"What? Why?" Jayce asks without a care in the world, brain not registering your words- still trying to fathom that his every wish, every dream had come true in this room. He blinks away tears of happiness, smile spreading across his cheeks- unable to be ripped from his features. "Im. mad. at. you. Jayce," you slowly articulate, "we agreed to have one later and you knocked me up!"

Jayce merely shrugs, willing nothing to break his happiness as he kisses you deeply, "It's my fault-hm? All my fault..." Jayce kisses you slowly, you can feel his smile on your skin and the rumble on his chest against your palm as he laughs, nipping your ear gently, "... on how you got on your knees for me underneath the dining table, pawed at my lap pleading or woke me up begging for me to fuck you? How about all those times you locked your ankles around my waist and squeezed hard enough to-"

"OKAY!~" you sing, shoving a palm over his mouth, flushed. Jayce just steps back admiring you. "What?" you ask back seeing as Jayce continues to stare.

"I'm just so thankful for you and all the happiness you've allowed me to have." A suddenly you start crying uncontrollably, Jayce curses rushing over, "fuck, shit, uh I'm sorry, didn't mean to make you cry- I'm such an idiot, I know."

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce had gone full-blown overprotective and it was getting on your nerves how little he allowed you to do. He called his mother to move in with you both and to watch over your take care of you! You loved talking and spending time with Ximena but she was just as bad if not worse than Jayce.

"No! You're stressing too much by working, just relax my dear, let's take a short walk around the garden." Or, "you shouldn't be bending down to fetch the laundry, please allow me."

─ · · Their care was endearing as it came from a place of love but it was also mind-numbing not being able to leave the house on your own for an errand no matter how quick and short distance it was. You also were frustrated about not being able to go back to the lab or your office during the day as Evren would somehow always catch you and send you back home with a smirk, "don't worry! Once that kid is born you and Jayce will be fighting over who gets to stay home~" you glare at his cheery-tone as he walks you back to your front door and into an awaiting Ximena who taps her foot in wait.

─ · · As soon as Jayce comes home, Ximena allows you to rush up to him and throw practically yourself into his arms, "Jay, I'm so bored please let me do more than drink tea and water plants all day. I'm sure I'd be fine taking one trip by myself to the market or hosting an office session-"

And like every other conversation you had on the matter, his answer never changed, "No, I just don't want you over-working yourself. If you want we can go out together later." (and you struggled to throw your shoes at his face, with love of course).

─────── · ·

─ · · When you feel your water break, the entire household has exploded into panic. Ximena who had been so worried and cautious over you had you feeling whiplash from how quickly she changed to cool and assertive as she held your hand and wiped the sweat from your forehead with a cool-cloth while waiting for transit to the hospital.

─ · · Evren was blowing up your phone and when you arrived at the hospital was walking alongside you throwing question after question, hands running through his hair, glasses askew, "are you thirsty?" "how are your contractions?" "you'll tell me if you feel off, alright?" "what do you-"

Ximena precedes to slap his arm and if that did not work, splashes a cup of water on his face to shock him out of his panic. Evren finally sits in a corner of the room, staring off into the distance to maintain his breathing. You take one look at your mother-in-law who only shakes her head, "the men always act like its them giving birth," and you laugh, hard.

─ · · Jayce practically rips the door off its hinges to get into the room quick enough and slides to your side, kissing your forehead and brushing the hair away from your eyes. "I'm here, never gonna leave you, not again," you nod, smiling at his words before gripping his hand tightly.

Jayce grits his teeth knowing that in these moments, he could not make one comment about the pain. Ximena smiles, nodding to her son approvingly as he places his other hand atop your connected ones.

─────── · ·

─ · · "ONCE THIS KID IS OUT JAYCE, I"M GOING TO KILL YOU," you scream at Jayce part way through. He just nods his head in agreement feeling utter guilt for being the reason you are in such pain, "yup, I know, I know, I'll dig the grave and everything before hand."

"You better," you grip his hand even tighter if that was possible and Jayce debates if he'll even have his left hand by the of it.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your first child would be a girl and a few years later you both would have a middle-child boy and a few years after that, a youngest girl.

─ · · There was never a boring nor quiet morning in the House of Talis as all the children had taken after your's and Jayce's tinkering and science interests. It would be considered a more quiet day if only one part of the house caught on fire. On that note, many people did not want to babysit for your children.... even your closest of friends as the kids only wanted to listen to their mom and dad.

─ · · Evren had lost his eyebrows in under two hours after your son had prototyped a flame thrower using scrap parts in Jayce's workshop in the backyard.

─ · · Vi and Caitlyn both ended up in emergency care after trying to play a game with the children that became overly-competitive, your kids coming unscratched and victorious as they showed the nurses the trophy they crafted from stick and rocks.

─ · · Ximena almost had a heart attack in watching the kids take turns in their make-shift sleds made from blankets and pillows down the stairs and nearly crashing into the front door if Jayce didn't step through the threshold a moment earlier to catch them.

─ · · But in perfect opposition, when you and Jayce would take your kids into your respective workplaces they acted as angels. Listening, silently observing what you both were working on and asking questions to learn more. (Evren was weirded out beyond belief once observing this quote 'phenomenon' and was mildly offended that you barley had to do anything and they just listened to you).

─────── · ·

─ · · Once your kids came of age, Jayce would step down from the council so that your eldest could pick up the metaphorical torch and continue your houses name. You would also step down from your position within the academy and become an occasional spokesperson/seasonal lecturer.

─ · · In this newfound spare time you had together, you and Jayce went back to your roots, spending all your time in the backyard workshop working on all the projects you left unfinished decades ago.

─ · · It was peaceful, a record playing in the background, window slightly open and desks right beside one another as you leaned your head on your husbands shoulder while reading through your notes. Jayce was breaking down a trinket at his desk, humming softly with the melody of the song.

─ · · So lost in your thoughts you didn't realize Jayce had finished with his work as he looked down at you, observing the crease in your brow. "Everything alright, sweetheart?"

You blink, forgetting what you were even staring at as pick your head off his shoulder, "I'm fine... just thinking," you shrug, standing up to stretch before feeling Jayce's hands wrap around your waist pulling you into his lap. His chin rests on your shoulder, beard scratching the exposed skin of your neck, "what were you thinking about?- you looked serious," he chuckles, you call feel the reverberations against your back.

"Just thinking about how old you are now," you tease, fighting off a grin as you turn in his lap to catch his offended gasp. "I'm not much older than you," Jayce childishly retorts, squeezing your hip, "but seriously, whats wrong?"

You pause, smile dropping, "I just wonder how different life would have been if I had chosen different things." You feel Jayce tense, his hold loosening on you.

"Oh," his tone distant, "...do you regret anything... do you regret this?" his voice barley a whisper. You lean back, pressing a kiss against his jaw as you smile at all the silver hairs mixed in his beard.

"Never," you speak honestly, "....just maybe not meeting you sooner." Jayce wraps his arms around your front, holding you close.

"I regret that too then," Jayce exaggerates a pout. You roll your eyes, "I was being genuine!"

"I was too," he retorts, patting your thigh in a silent as for you to stand. You comply, extending your hand to help him up that he takes and holds as you both walk back to the house yet Jayce freezes half way causing you to pause, turning to face him already seeing as he looks down at you.

Eyes a mixture adoration and something you can't pinpoint just yet, "Jay?" you call out, searching his face for clues only to receive no answer as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Thank you for staying with me... I..." he pauses, stumbling on his words, "...I wouldn't know myself now... wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you."

You smile reaching up to pull his face forward and press a kiss to his cheek, "thank you too, Mr. Talis." Your heart races seeing the recognition flood his eyes, "now how does some coffee sound?"

"Sounds perfect, Mrs. Talis."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: thank you to all those who decided to stick with this story, it was the best of time... it was the worst of times (lol). But I hope you all enjoyed nonetheless!

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420 @mommymilkers0526 @whatislifebutlemons

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jaewriteshi · 2 days ago

Text

Invisible String

Summary: They say childhood best friends never fall apart. That the invisible string tying them together is unbreakable. But what happens when love tangles itself in between?

Maeve wanted to chase the stage. Jeonghan wanted to escape his fate. But not all dreams fit into the same future, and not all love stories end with a happy ending.

And as the final note fades, she wonders… Did he ever hear the words hidden in the melody?

Matching: best friend!yoon jeonghan x idol!reader

Genre: ANGSTTTT, fluff if you squint

Note: indented parts are flashbacks, this was written by 2023 me dsauihdjkns (its basically covered with webs)

____________________________________

The interview started with me singing one of the tracks in my album “Invisible String”.

Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Were there clues I didn’t see?

“Why can’t you just say who you like!” I said before chasing after him He then stuck his tongue out, trying to hide the smile that’s plastered in his face.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think

All along there was some, Invisible string

NOTIFICATIONS: ❦: Let’s go somewhere far away from here. “You basically kidnapped me,” I said, making our way to our bus seat. “No it isn’t, you agreed at the idea of leaving home” he replied with a grin while settling ourselves in a comfortable position. “What is your problem?” “School. You?” “Parents.”

Tying you to me?

I opened my eyes after hearing the instrumental ending, seeing how the staff clapped their hands as well as the host.

____________________________________

FLASHBACK TO 12TH GRADE:

“Gosh Jeong, when you mentioned you were thinking about going somewhere far away, I didn't imagine it to be to JEJU ISLAND SPECIFICALLY.” I exaggeratedly yelled, flailing my arms like an insane person. Which I am at the moment. Around 1 and a half hours ago, Jeong texted me if I wanted to go on a trip with him. Here we are, standing right infront of Incheon Airport with just our backpacks with minimal packing. Apparently, it's my fault for agreeing to it when we have our finals next week.

Jeonghan and I have been best friends since diapers, literally. Our mothers were considered “half-sisters” from their high school days till now because of their close bond, which led some to wonder if they were related. Automatically, from the moment I was born, I’ve always had a companion by my side. Until I got older, I had no idea he would be a pain in the ass.

I guess you could say that the name “Yoon Jeonghan” is very well known around the campus, if you think it was because of his charming looks and grades, well you’re in for a treat.

“YOON JEONGHAN GET BACK HERE!” A teacher yelled while chasing a very familiar brown-haired man, attracting many student’s attention as well. I was supposed to be in my 3rd class by now but my curiosity got the best of me. I walked over to the parking lot, seeing people gathering around. Oh god. Mr. Hudson’s car came into view—covered with glue and confetti, topped with pink glitter—making me snort, what a classic. I saw Jeonghan run past me, winking at me. One of my friends approached me asking, “It makes me think about how in the hell you and Jeonghan are still friends?” “I have no idea.”

I have no idea indeed. “Well where did you expect us to go? Didn’t you look out the window to see where we were going?”

“I FELL ASLEEP”

“Oh, not my problem. Now come on, we might miss our flight.” He said rushing inside, while I had a hard time catching up with his steps.

Being friends with him is very unexpected, like the way he pulled out my passport out of his bag once we reached the check in desk. Or maybe the way he managed to sneak out of their house without Auntie suspecting anything. Or maybe the way he got us a hotel to stay in once we landed. Or maybe the way he had extra cash with him, which means he had been planning this for some time now.

“How did you even manage to do all this? I mean, even my passport? Are you kidding me?” I plopped on my bed, I’m highly impressed he managed to get a hotel room with the view of the beach. “I have ways” he faced me with a grin on his face, Oh how much I wanted to smack that away so many times, “Let’s go out? I remember passing by a few shops earlier.”

In a span of just 2 hours, we managed to do some shopping (mostly me, making jeong my butler by holding my shopping bags) and food trips every now and then. Here we are sitting on a table just right by the beach, eating our ice creams. He broke the comfortable silence, making my heart skip a beat for the first time, as he said “I’m really glad I’m here with you.” I smiled at him but as I was about to share a heartwarming moment, I realized…

“OUR PARENTS ARE GONNA KILL US” I said, making me stand up from shock. I started pacing back and forth thinking about the possibilities my mom would do once she found out. I didn’t notice how distressed Jeonghan looked as well, trying to interrupt me from my rambling. He then got annoyed and pulled my arms making me clash into his body, staring into his eyes.

“Don’t worry, they know. I just wanted to have some alone time with you”

____________________________________

FLASHBACK TO COLLEGE, 1ST YEAR:

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME EVE! AFTER EVERYTHING YOUR FATHER AND I'VE BEEN THROUGH, YOU DECIDED NOT TO TAKE COLLEGE?” My mother said while furiously walking towards me, I swore I saw smoke coming out of her nose.

“You didn’t let me finish-”

“I didn’t let you finish because that is the finish! What else do you need to tell me!”

“You didn’t ask me why I don’t want to-”

“Then why?!” I rolled my eyes at the way she interrupted me, have you no manners?

“Because I want to pursue my dream of being an Idol-”

“YOU DON’T WANT TO GO THROUGH COLLEGE BECAUSE OF-” “Yes! Because I want to follow my stupid dream!” I cutted her off, I swear I’m so done with putting up with her attitude. Both of my parents looked at me, shocked.

“I want to do something I finally want, something I enjoy doing! You always pressured me into doing some job I don’t want to do! It’s a waste of time for me to be honest, by the fact why did I even have a chance to live when I couldn’t make my own decisions because my mother really had to control my life just because hers wasn’t perfect!” I said while walking towards her, as if I was threatening her.

My mother wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Always struggling on how to live, almost surviving in this society. While my father’s was the complete opposite. An only son of a CEO, making him the next heir of the company. It’s like a Wattpad Story. Them being arranged marriage because of a deal their families made, having to live in a lie that’s written on paper. Having to live in the same house, with no love shared together. Having to fake a happily perfect life.

Jeonghan’s no different. His parents pressure him way too much in taking law because “it’s a family tradition, dear” that the first born has to carry on. He was more suffocated than I was. My mother and his were like the evil stepsisters in Cinderella, marrying a man for their position. Funny how the story went downhill.

She slapped me. My own mother slapped me. My father stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do. He was never a talker, maybe that’s what I hated about him. “How dare you say that” My mother gritted her teeth, almost locking her jaw. “I said what I said” while rubbing my now red stained cheeks, glaring at her. “Get out” ok when I said that shit was going down, I never expected this.

“What?”

“I said. Get. Out” My mother said while staring at me, no pain evident in her eyes.

Silence then began to surround the house. I broke it first with a giddy-

“Fine!” I then rushed to my room, taking my already packed luggage below my bed. Finally, it’s finally happening.

“Wait. What?” My mother said, making me stop in my tracks as I was already standing at the door.

“What do you mean ‘what?’, you told me to get out so I am” I said the obvious.

“Yea, but I was expecti-”

“Expecting me to do what? To beg on my knees for me to stay? I scoffed. “You really are pathetic” closing the door, not even bothering to say my farewells. Before I shut the door, I heard my father’s voice finally coming out, shouting at my mother for the first time as he blamed her. What do I do now? The only person I could run to was…Him.

_______________

Song Playing: Mine

You were in college, working part-time waiting tables

Left a small town, never looked back

I rang the doorbell of an apartment as I awaited an answer. I was freezing. I just really had to take a bus that's heater is broken.

“Eve?” A familiar voice erupted behind me, making me flinch at the sudden sound. “Oh, you’re here” I said while sniffing my now red nose. I probably looked like Rudolph.

“God, you’re freezing” He said as he hurriedly opened the door, rushing me to sit on the couch and wrapped me up with blankets.

I chuckled at this sweet behavior. “Do you need anything?” “No, but thank you” I smiled genuinely. He then made hot choco while trying to make a conversation by asking me how I was doing.

I hadn't seen Jeonghan in a long time, and that was new to me. Even though we stayed in touch via chat, we never honestly discussed why he left home. He suddenly disappeared and messaged me saying he had an apartment in Busan. Yes, I did travel to Busan via bus. That is five hours. lacking a heater. I'm assuming it was for the exact cause as I was.

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin’

I saw him glancing at my luggages before making his way to me. “So, tell me” he said while handing out my drink, I whispered a small ‘thank you’ before tasting the beverage. I’m surprised though at how he managed to make Hot Choco when he doesn’t even know how to cook rice. He raised his eyebrows before taking a sip, signaling me to start on why I was here.

I placed my mug at the console table beside me. “I need a place to stay,” I said. “Why?” “They kicked me out, because of some passion I wanted to follow” I rolled my eyes.

“You’re still going on about being an Idol?” I nodded, in despair. “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you start auditioning now?” I know. “I just want to save up some cash first” I made an excuse.

I suppose it was both true and an excuse, though. I first needed a few bucks since I knew that if I started off with nothing, the expenses in Seoul would kill me. And maybe also because I wanted to see him. A peaceful silence enveloped us as we just stared at the wall in front of us, snuggling into each other’s warmth.

Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

“I missed you” We said simultaneously. Making me feel the oh-so-well familiar beating of a heart whenever we had moments like this.

I say, “Can you believe it?”

As we’re lyin’ on the couch

I looked at him, also seeing him staring at me. Making me realize…

The moment, I can see it

I love the person I trust the most, the person I always think of when I'm at my lowest, the person I think about when I hear the words 'sweet' and 'loving', the person I would make exemptions for. My Best friend.

Yes, yes, I can see it now

__________________________

NOTE: Maeve is now 20 years old

He cracked a smile as he faced me. "What?" "You look ridiculous," I do. I'm digging through his stuff while seated on the floor, and I have a ton of items attached to me. Wearing his hair clips he used to use when he had his long hair, his green puffer vest when we used to go camping, checkered scarf, and a white bucket hat.

After two years, I had finally moved into my own apartment, whereas Jeonghan had only recently moved into his own home. We’re currently unpacking the boxes scattered on the floor. When I said ‘we’, I meant me going over his stuff being completely distracted while he fixed his clothes in the closet.

Nothing much changed in our relationship, including the feelings that I kept from him. Since we were often together, I had to conceal the loud thumping in my chest whenever he behaved charmingly more than a friend.

"God Jeonghan, you're being too dramatic!" I shouted angrily at him. He calmly led me into his apartment to my assigned room, "No, I'm not," he responded. "He's a coworker of mine," I mumbled. I worked part-time in a restaurant close to Jeonghan's workplace for a while. My coworkers and I had planned to stay up all night drinking tonight, but someone had to spoil our plans. As if we didn't have shifts the next day, we were already at the local bar dunking the familiar taste and burning feeling of alcohol. I mistakenly sent a message to Jeong when I intended to ask one of my friends to pick me up. “You still don’t even know them yet” I could feel how he’s holding back from screaming at me. His voice was firm, but there was an underlying emotion I couldn't quite place. Frustration? Fear? Maybe something more. "Jeong, I'm not a kid. I can take care of myself." I rolled my eyes, stumbling slightly as I tried to get up from the bed where he had sat me down. He caught my wrist gently, stopping me. "I never said you were. But I know you, Maeve. You let people in too easily. You trust too fast. And that guy—he looked at you like you were something to win." I scoffed. "And what if I want to be won? What if I want someone to chase after me for once, instead of always being the one left behind?" His grip tightened for a second before he let go. His jaw clenched, his face unreadable. "You're not something to be won, Maeve. You're someone to be cherished." My breath hitched. For a moment, I let myself believe that his words meant something more. That he meant them. But then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning away. "Just... be careful, okay?" And just like that, the moment was gone.

____________________________________

Years passed. Life moved forward in its messy, unpredictable way.

I got my first break in the music industry. A small entertainment company took a chance on me, and before I knew it, I was training, recording, performing. The dream I had fought for—the one I had left home for—was finally in my grasp.

And Jeonghan was still by my side.

Through late-night calls, surprise visits, and quiet moments between our separate busy lives, he remained a constant. My anchor in the chaos. My best friend.

But best friends weren’t supposed to make your heart ache.

Best friends weren’t supposed to make you wish for something more.

____________________________________

The night before I left for my first world tour, I stood outside his apartment, my fingers hovering over the doorbell.

My heart was racing. I needed to tell him. Before I left, before it was too late, I had to let him know.

I knocked.

A few seconds later, the door opened, and there he was—hair messy, eyes heavy with sleep, wearing that same green puffer vest I had once stolen.

"Maeve? What are you—"

"I'm leaving tomorrow." My voice was barely above a whisper.

He blinked. "I know. I was going to call you in the morning. Wish you luck."

I shook my head. "No. I mean, I'm really leaving, Jeong. For months. Maybe years."

A shadow crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a smile. "That’s amazing, Maeve. This is everything you wanted."

"Yeah." I forced a laugh. "It is."

Silence stretched between us. The words I wanted to say caught in my throat, tangled with fear and uncertainty.

Don't let me go.

Tell me to stay.

Tell me you feel it too.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled me into a hug, his arms warm and familiar. I closed my eyes, trying to memorize the way he felt, the way he smelled, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek.

When we pulled away, he smiled. "Go make the world fall in love with you, Maeve."

And that was it.

____________

The lights of the stage felt too bright. The audience, the cameras, the interviewer’s voice.

It had been years. I left, we had no connection afterwards, and life went on. I chased my dream, just like he told me to. But some nights, when the world quieted down, I still heard his voice in my head.

I still saw his smile in the spaces between my memories.

I still felt his absence in every song I wrote.

The interviewer’s voice pulled me back to reality. “If you had the chance to say something to that ‘someone,’ what would it be?”

I swallowed, fingers tightening around my phone.

“I’d say…” My voice cracked. I let out a shaky breath, smiling despite the tears welling in my eyes. “I hope you’re happy. I hope you found what you were looking for.”

The audience clapped, oblivious to the weight of my words.

Oblivious to the fact that, after all these years, I was still trying to let him go.

I stood backstage, the echoes of the applause fading. The final notes of the song played through the speakers, the lyrics hauntingly familiar.

Like oceans and engines, you can't keep up with me You're holdin' my hand but you don't understand So goodbye, for now

I closed my eyes, letting the melody wash over me.

You never knew, the bridges burned, I let the fire just bathe me.

And just like that, the invisible string that had once tied us together was gone.

#jeonghanangst #jeonghan #jeonghanfluff #jeonghanff #seventeenff #seventeenangst #seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt fluff #svt angst #jeonghan x you #svt x you #svt scenarios #jeonghan scenarios

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jiro-kirisaki-no1-fan · 2 days ago

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Episode 14 rant

THAT NEW CHAPTER WAS SO GOOD

Jiro my baby I love you forever❤️ I was so worried for him especially during his episode oh my god

I KNEW that Yuri was in Frostheim before. IT WAS SO OBVIOUS!

There's this theory that Yuri failed to treat Jin's mother, hence why he's actually terrified of failing to treat all his patient. I believe this could be revealed later🙏

Aaaa when these annoying fuckass students started to make fun of him. I'm so glad Jiro stepped in🙏 it would have been so awkward.

It was kinda sad when he started to cry. I felt a bit bad for him of course, but he did deserve it... Like, he was being such a prick to everyone and his ego was so high and he behaved as if he's the greatest and best one out there, which, I'll have to be honest, is super annoying. So him getting humbled did satisfy me somewhat. Especially when Jiro and the MC just stood there. It was so awkward.

HOWEVER Jiro is NOT cold🙏 He cares for Yuri, obviously. Because without Yuri he can't survive. He's very direct and logical and doesn't do pointless things. When the Frostheim students wouldn't leave, he stepped in for Yuri, sort of, and made them leave, giving him privacy to be vulnerable. I think that's kinda cute. I think, since Jiro is such a logical person, that he has struggle to comfort others. I bet he wants to but just cannot find the right words.

Oh god with all the pressure and the absolutely CRUSHING of his self-esteem, and possibly being reminded of his time at Frostheim, it's only natural to now have trouble treating Jiro. It's so insane. God I panicked too. I actually really like that the developers showed this because it makes Yuri look more human and less like an arrogant, prideful, mad scientist type of guy.

THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE 💔

It made me tear up

Yuri cares so much for Jiro omg I wish. Jiro also calling him pathetic 😭🙏 AHH but saying he can cry when they're alone, when no other person is there, was so cute. He wants to protect Yuri as well, not just in fights, but maybe in an emotional sense too? I love him. It's so heartbreaking to see Yuri cry here. This made me feel bad for him because Jiro ended up in the infirmary because of him. And it's really important as a doctor to stay concentrated and vigilant when dealing with patients, so him being so nervous after the ordeal with the Frostheim students was only bound to end up with Jiro on the verge of death.

I LOVE how Jiro gave Yuri the hint with the incubation period. Because Yuri loves solving the cases, and Jiro knows that. That hint was enough to make Yuri solve everything and he lightened up again. I 100% believe Jiro did that to comfort him.

HE EVEN SMILED when Yuri solved the case!!! He's like "I'm so proud of you" omgmggmgm

God I hate Hyde so much. Frostheim (except for Kaito and Luca) are my biggest opps istg.

There's still so many questions, for example what Sinostra wants from Mortkranken, or whatever Frostheim is planning??? For Sinostra it's probably the spider eggs but I have no idea what Frostheim wants from them.

ANYWAY the Chapter was SO AMAZING!!! I LOVED IT SO MUCH!!! Might be the best Chapter oat🙏

#jiro kirisaki #tokyo debunker #anime #otome game #tkdb #yuri isami #mortkranken

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hellvst · 23 hours ago

Text

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 3.5k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; woohoo chapter three is here! also what's up with the hughes brothers getting hurt within the last 48 hours...hope they're ok :c also thank you all for the recent support, means a lot! uh this isn't proof read, but happy reading <3

CHAPTER THREE

QUINN

The bell above the café door chimed as I stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries hitting me almost instantly. I wasn’t much of a coffee guy, but I definitely needed it today.

The place was an average size for a café, cozy, slightly packed with students hunched over laptops and the occasional older couples chatting over mugs of tea.

Conor, who trailed behind me with Brock next to him, actually suggested this spot, claiming it to be one of the best coffee in this side of Vancouver. It wasn’t my go-to energizer. Still, after the morning skate we had, I could use something to wake me up.

After coming off a big-time loss, post-practice was always tougher.

If people thought we’d been left off the hook to start the off-season early the following day. They have never been more wrong. So fucking wrong. Just because we were out of the game, did not mean that it was over.

Everyone on the team had been anticipating that text from our coach and told us to “Get your asses in the rink. Now.” Knowing Tocchet, he was ready to give us hell–more specifically Simon and I. And we got it.

The skating and puck handling drills were relentless. I don’t think we’d ever been pushed like that before. They were much more intensive, fast-paced, more difficult targets to hit in the goal post. I tried my best to keep up, which I did, but I would be lying if I had said it didn’t wear me down to the max. My body absolutely felt like I was checked over and over again.

Not the best feeling in the world. Trust me, I would know.

Conor and Brock stood behind me, still joking about the brutal morning skate we had to endure. “Man–I need something strong.” Brock said while his eyes wandered the menu. “I swear, if we have another skate like that, I’m gonna need a new set of legs.”

Conor huffed a laugh. “Better legs wouldn’t make a difference for you, buddy.”

I smiled while Brock gave him a look, “Whatever–” he waved his hand before looking at the menu again. “So, what do you usually get here Gar?”

“Yeah, Garland. You’re the one who said this place was good.” I muttered.

“Because it is. And you need some caffeine in you, Huggy.” Conor shot back, nudging towards the counter. “Maybe then you’ll stop looking like you wanna skate into oncoming traffic.”

I ignored him since it was probably true, and not a terrible idea considering what I had to deal with in a week or so.

My mind was stuck on last night’s game and the conversation with Tocchet. I couldn’t get it out of my head. The rest of the team didn’t hound me after figuring out what transpired in the coach’s office between me and Simon. They knew not to press me on it–I was glad that they did as I was already in a bad mood. I doubt that Simon kept his mouth shut about it to some of the guys, ranting to them per usual.

Conor and Brock continued on with their banter. I was only half-listening as I stared at the menu, pretending I knew what any of the drinks meant or how–

I blinked and before I could react, as soon as I took a step forward, the person in front of me turned around–colliding straight into me. I watched as the girl’s cup tipped forward, brown coffee spilling all over her grey hoodie.

“Fuck!” She let out a sharp and frustrated voice under her breath.

My stomach dropped. This wasn’t good.

I staggered back, looking at her. The girl in front of me–who I had just completely steamrolled–stood frozen and appalled, coffee staining the front of her hoodie. The brown liquid spreads rapidly across the cotton like wildfire.

Her jaw clenched, a mix of annoyance and disbelief flashing across her face.

“Shit, I–” I started, but the words barely left my mouth before she snapped her gaze at me, clearly about to let me have it–then she froze.

I watched her expression shift, something unreadable flickering her chestnut-colored eyes. Her pupils softened, but still held that glare. Her gaze swept over me in a quick assessment. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

Oh, she was pissed.

Looking at her, she was strikingly beautiful. Dark brown hair tied in a ponytail, long eyelashes, very light freckles dotting her nose across her tan skin, the kind of natural beauty that didn’t need any effort. But it was the look in her eyes that got me–like she had already sized me up and made her judgement.

And from the way her mouth pressed into a tight line, it wasn’t in my favour at all.

“I, uh–” I looked at the sight in front of me, wincing at the view. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Shit. Not the best first impression.

I grabbed napkins from the counter and held them out to her. She took them but didn’t seem all that convinced they would be much help. I watched as she tried to dab at the stain, her expression growing more annoyed by the second. Yeah, the napkins weren’t much help.

It was only right that I offered to buy her another coffee–although, I figured it would make matters worse–so I opted to at least buy her a new hoodie.

She shook her head to refuse, still working with the napkins. What she said next had caught me completely off guard. “I don’t need anything from an NHL player, alright–”

Then she stopped, her own words registering, her eyes widened slightly.

My brows furrowed. “So, you know who I am?”

Maybe she was a Canucks fan.

She met my gaze again, unimpressed. “Yes, I do.” The tone in her voice made it clear that wasn’t exactly a compliment.

Alright, maybe she wasn’t a fan.

That surprised me. Most of the time, when someone recognized me, there was some level of excitement. But her? She didn’t seem impressed in the slightest. If anything, she looked more annoyed and pissed than before.

A strange mix of amusement and curiosity flickered in my chest. What the hell, that was new.

“Can I at least get your name or number?” I asked, then immediately realized how that sounded. “To replace your hoodie or pay for dry cleaning, anything to fix what I caused.”

I had no other intentions behind that statement. For all I cared, I just wanted to make a things right. Not just because there were now a couple of eyes watching us, but it wouldn’t be fair for her to leave this place without anything in return to help her. Then I’d feel like a complete asshole.

Sure. She was pretty. Beyond her looks–and her built up frustration–she carried herself with grace and poise. Even in a stained-hoodie, black leggings, and white sneakers, there was still that elegance to her like no one else had–you just had to be born with it.

Wait. I couldn’t be like this.

“I’m not making you buy me a hoodie. I can take care of this–” she gestured down. “–myself. So, I think I’ll respectfully pass up on that offer of yours, but thank you though.”

Before I could say anything else, she turned away.

Don’t look like an asshole. Don’t look like an asshole.

On instinct, I reached out, lightly catching the material of her sleeve. “Hey look, I’d feel really bad if I left here without making it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” She paused, raising a brow at me.

Of course I’d feel terrible. She could have gone off on me in front of the entire shop, but she hadn’t. And now I was weirdly determined to fix it.

But she smirked slightly. “I think I’ll survive without your help, but thanks.”

I stared, absolutely stunned, but a tinge in my lips dared to curve. And just like that, she walked off, returning to her table with another woman–most likely her friend–before I could even respond.

Well that caught me off guard. I don’t think I’ve ever been let down like that. Strangely enough, I was not bothered by it, but just fascinated. It’s not everyday I get these kinds of interactions.

The sound of laughter brought me back, and I turned to see Brock and Conor watching the whole thing unfold with shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. I forgot they were here for a moment.

“Dude,” Brock said, he shook his head in disbelief. “Did we just witness the Quinn Hughes talk to a girl?”

Conor was quick to add, whistled lowly. “Not just talk. Get rejected.”

I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t a complete rejection, noting she ‘respectfully’ declined.

“She didn’t reject me.”

“She literally just rejected you,” Brock deadpanned.

“She didn’t even let you buy her a new hoodie,” Conor mentioned the obvious, also shaking his head in mock sympathy. “That’s tough, Huggy.”

“Maybe she saw last night’s game and watched us play like shit and–”

“Shut up.” I said under my breath.

Given she knew I was an NHL player, there was no doubt that she knew about last night’s game. I wondered if she had even watched it at all. Better if she hadn’t, the sight of us losing on our home turf was not only embarrassing but rather disappointing.

If I were a fan, I would be feeling anything but happy. That realization crashed down on me a lot more than I thought it would.

Brock’s laugh brought me out of my short trance. “No, no, this is big,” he said, grinning like an idiot. “Quinn, do we need to have the talk? You know, the one where we tell you how to approach women like a normal person?”

“You two are the worst.” I wasn’t completely paying attention to them.

My gaze drifted towards the exit, just in time to watch the same coffee-stained hoodie girl leave the cafe alongside her friend.

I didn’t know who she was. I didn’t even get her name. But, there was that feeling down my gut that told me this wouldn’t be the last time I was going to see her.

And usually, my gut-feeling has always been right.

I had two weeks of freedom. A glorious, responsibility-free stretch of time before I had to start this personal hell.

And I spent it the only way I knew how: watching hockey, reading new books that I got a few weeks ago, hanging out with some of the guys, and watching more hockey.

It was the perfect balance of nothing and everything. Until now. Until this.

I pulled into the Lumé Wellness parking lot, stared at the building through my windshield like it was about to swallow me whole. The building itself was tucked in the center of downtown Vancouver, which was near the Rogers Arena. The area around the studio wasn’t too busy or lively, I didn’t have to worry about the media at this time.

If I could put this mandatory cross-training off another week, I would have in a heartbeat just to prepare myself for this moment. Hell, I would have put it off forever if it meant I wouldn’t have to do this with Simon.

But no, that wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to come back at my best instead of my ass being glued to the bench next season.

My fingers drummed against the steering wheel. I was about to hop out when I glanced around the lot and realized that Simon’s car wasn’t here yet. I took the liberty of keeping track of his cars whenever I could, just to avoid bumping into that prick at random places.

I was expecting him to be here, especially considering his whole ‘I’m better than you, I know everything, and I make the shots you would have missed’ complex. But, who was I kidding? Simon didn’t want to be here, and so had I. If he didn’t show, then I wouldn’t blame him. Since he wasn’t here yet, that either meant he was running late on purpose or–worse–he was about to show up here with his sister.

The hoodie girl at the café popped into my head before I could dread what was about to come.

The thoughts of our interaction weeks ago lingered in my head, which was strange, because usually I didn’t dwell on these things. But the reminiscence of spilling coffee all over her and interacting with her, it had been itching at my brain ever since.

She looked so annoyed, so unimpressed.

It also didn’t help the fact she knew exactly who I was. I had no idea if she hated me or not, but she probably did now. Not that I cared what people thought of me on or off the ice–except, for some reason, with her, I kind of did.

I shook the thoughts out of my head, got out of my car and walked towards the entrance of the studio, pushing open the glass door.

The foyer was empty, which was unexpected. I came prepared to see a lot of people here, but it was quiet–too quiet. The scent of essential oils idled in the air, a mix of eucalyptus and lavender, almost enough to make me forget how much I didn’t want to be here.

I made my way past the front desk, my gaze roaming over the sleek, modern with contemporary wooden interior. Soft lighting, smooth hardwood floor, and floor-to-ceiling arched mirrors in every studio room.

Great. That meant I’d have to watch myself struggle through whatever the hell was about to happen here.

As I wandered further into the hallway, I passed more studio rooms, each one either empty or locked. Then, as I turned the corner, I caught the faint sound of music–Michael Jackson.

I slowed my steps, glancing toward the slightly opened door at the end of the hall. Inside, a single figure was stretching in front of the mirrors.

My feet stopped moving. It took me half a second to realize why.

No. There’s no way.

The café girl.

She looked the same as the last I saw her. Brown chestnut eyes, her hair in a braid instead of a loose ponytail. Rather than a stained grey hoodie, she wore black yoga pants and a matching fitted jacket.

I traced her face through the reflection of the mirrors, watched as she moved fluidly, adjusting her position with practiced ease. She was focused, lost in whatever she was doing–until she wasn’t.

I hadn’t realized how long I was like this for. She must have sensed me, because she suddenly straightened up, her eyes snapping to mine through the mirror.

“What are you doing here?” She turned to face me, looking just as surprised.

I blinked, clearing my throat. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Her lips quirked, but it wasn’t a smile. “I asked first.”

Okay. Fair enough.

“I, uh–” I scratched the back of my nape. “I have a session today.”

She tilted her head in amusement, probably found it hard to believe that me, Quinn Hughes, would be at a Pilates studio. I also found that reality hard to grasp around my head. “I’m sure you don’t see a lot of guys here, right?”

“Well, believe it or not Hughes, I see a few male athletes here and there for Pilates. So, don't go around thinking you’re all that special now.”

Great, it looks like she hadn’t forgotten me after all. I couldn’t tell if I should be happy or worried about that. “So, you remembered me.”

She only nodded, but not in a way that meant it was a good thing. “Well, duh. You’re the reason I had to throw my favourite hoodie in the bin.”

I saw that coming, there was no way she would look at me any other way than this. I wasn’t just an ‘NHL hockey player’ in her eyes, instead I was now dubbed ‘the guy who ruined her clothes’.

“I offered to buy you another one or pay to get it cleaned–”

“I’m just kidding,” she chuckled, ever so lightly, waving her hand. “It’s a good thing washing machines and laundry detergent exist. It took a few cycles and extra scrubbing to get it out, but it’s all gone–good as new.”

That weight I have been carrying on my shoulders for the past two weeks, instantly lifted after hearing that. So, she didn’t hate me in the end. I dodged a bullet there.

“Oh, good–” I huffed out in relief. “I am sorry about that, again.”

All she did was smile. Who knew that a single smile would ignite something beneath my chest. There was that feeling from the cafe again. And I wasn’t sure why it only kept happening around her.

Taking that she hasn’t kicked me out yet, I took a few strides into the room, inviting myself in. I have never been to any Pilates studios, so I have never seen what was inside one–although, I had a good idea of it.

One side of the walls were large arched floor to ceiling mirrors, the opposite side were windows that overlooked outside, multiple pilates reformers in one neat row, and the other end were laid out yoga mats and more equipment.

“Do you come here often?” I asked.

I figured she was in her twenties, but I could be wrong. I guessed since most Pilates’ clients were either young adults or middle-aged. I did some research prior to coming, and I would know a bit about it since my mom picked it up a couple years ago.

She gave me a vague shrug, “Something like that.”

I exhaled, shifting my weight as I walked around the reformers, taking in my surroundings, still keeping my distance from her. “I should’ve known you did Pilates.”

I recalled from the café; she stood so close that I noticed the small flecks of sweat glisten against her skin. She most likely earned them after being here.

Her brows lifted, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, you seem like you’d be good at it.”

Now that I realized it, I sounded awkward just then. I mentally face-palmed myself for my ‘game’–more like lack thereof. Maybe that talk Brock and Garly were referring to on that day might have come in handy for times like these. I sound like a fucking idiot in front of her.

But, I wasn’t trying to flirt with her. This was simply to make conversation. That’s all.

She stared at me for a moment before she shook her head with a laugh–like she wasn’t sure if I was complimenting her or just making shit up.

I was about to say something else, anything to save me from my impending doom, when Michael Jackson’s voice blasted through the speakers again. I recognized the song immediately.

“Beat It?” I said, more to myself than anything. “Solid choice.”

She turned her back to her bag on the floor, kneeling to grab her water bottle. She glanced at me, amused. “Yeah, you a fan?”

“I know good music when I hear it.”

That earned me a small smirk on her pink tinted lips.

I didn’t know why, but I felt the need to keep talking to her. I wasn’t usually like this–I didn’t go out of my way to make conversation, unless I had to–but, especially not with strangers. But, my mouth was already moving before I could think about stopping.

“What's your name? You know, since it's only fair because you know mine.” I asked, looking at all the equipment surrounding us.

She exhaled a short scoff, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re not answering them.”

She twisted the cap off her bottle and took a sip, like she was debating on whether or not she wanted to humor me. Before she said anything, though, another voice cut through the air.

“Let’s not waste time and get on with it.”

I knew that voice all too well. Fuck.

I turned my head just as Simon strolled into the room like he owned the place, then tossed his bag to the side by the wall.

The café girl–her entire posture shifted. She walked over to the speaker where the music came from and turned down the volume. Her head snapped toward him, her expression tight. “Took you long enough. Didn’t I tell you to get here earlier because of traffic in the area?”

Simon barely looked fazed. “Turns out you were right after all. There was traffic. Duly noted for next time.”

My stomach twisted, and I wasn’t sure why. Simon has a wife, I knew that, but it did put me on edge to see her and Simon talk to one another. They spoke casually, so effortlessly, like they had known each other forever. Not that I was jealous or anything.

It seemed like I was invisible and there was a wall between myself and the two of them.

I cleared my throat and interrupted their conversation. “Do you guys know each other?”

Simon shot me a look, one of those ‘are you the dumbest person on earth?’ expressions he was always good at–towards me specifically.

“No shit, Hughes,” he deadpanned. Then he jerked his chin toward her. “She’s my sister.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #qh43

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thatfatbitxch · 2 days ago

Text

The Muggle Wife

Pairing: Severus snape x muggle reader

Summary: Snapes muggle wife comes to work with him for a day.

Word count: 3800

Warnings: None

Note: I am a nursing student so I couldn’t help but make y/n a nurse. I wrote this mostly for myself but decided to share. Let me know if you guys want a part two.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

The soft patter of rain against the window was the first thing Y/N noticed as she stirred awake, still nestled beneath the heavy warmth of the blankets. The second was the comforting weight of her husband beside her. Severus was rarely still in the mornings—he was always up before her, always already halfway through a book or preparing for the day ahead. But today, he remained in bed, his breath slow and steady, one arm draped loosely across his stomach.

Y/N turned onto her side, propping herself up slightly to look at him. He was still asleep, his dark hair slightly mussed against the pillow. The deep lines of his face, usually so tight with concentration or irritation, were softened in rest. It was a rare sight. She smiled to herself, taking the moment to admire him.

Outside, the grey sky stretched endlessly, the steady drizzle promising a slow, quiet day. Sundays were one of the few days they had together, uninterrupted. No work, no obligations—just the two of them. Y/N treasured mornings like this, where she could pretend that their lives were simple, that they weren’t so often pulled in different directions.

She reached out, running her fingers lightly over the back of his hand.

“Are you watching me sleep?” Severus’s voice was rough with sleep, his eyes still closed.

Y/N grinned. “Maybe.”

He let out a low sigh but didn’t move away. Instead, he turned his head slightly toward her, finally cracking open one dark eye. “That’s unsettling.”

“You’ll survive,” she teased, brushing her fingertips up his arm.

He hummed, letting his eyes fall shut again. “What time is it?”

Y/N glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “A little after eight.”

Severus exhaled heavily, his fingers flexing against the blanket. “Too early.”

She laughed softly. “For what? You’re usually up by now.”

“It’s Sunday,” he muttered. “Even I am entitled to a moment of peace.”

Y/N tilted her head, amused. “Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?”

He let out a low scoff, but she caught the faintest twitch of his lips.

She took the opportunity to shift closer, tucking herself against his side. His body was warm, and despite his usual complaints about being smothered, he didn’t push her away. Instead, he lifted an arm, allowing her to rest against him properly.

For a long moment, they simply lay there, listening to the rain.

It was Severus who eventually broke the silence. “Are you working today?”

Y/N sighed. “No, I have the next few days off.”

“Hmm.”

She smiled, recognizing that small sound for what it was—a quiet acknowledgment that he was pleased.

“Which means,” she continued lightly, tracing a slow circle on his chest, “we can actually spend the day together.”

Severus let out a noncommittal noise, but Y/N could tell he wasn’t against the idea.

They spent so much time apart during the week. Between his responsibilities at Hogwarts and her long shifts at the hospital, their days often blurred past one another. It made moments like this—lazy mornings wrapped in each other’s warmth—all the more precious.

She hesitated for a second, chewing her lip. She had been thinking about something for a while now, and if there was ever a moment to bring it up, it was now.

“Severus?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.

He opened his eyes again, glancing at her. “What is it?”

She bit the inside of her cheek before speaking. “Can I come with you to Hogwarts tomorrow?”

There it was—the immediate tension in his body, the subtle stiffening of his shoulders. His expression shifted, dark eyes sharpening with caution.

“No,” he said flatly.

Y/N sighed, but she had expected this. “Just hear me out.”

“There is nothing to hear,” he muttered, shifting to sit up slightly. “You do not need to be there.”

“I want to see where you work.”

“I work in a dungeon surrounded by idiotic children. There is nothing remotely appealing about it.”

She huffed, sitting up properly now. “Severus, I’m not asking to stay forever. I just want to visit. I want to see the castle, your classroom—I want to understand what your life is like when you’re not here.”

He ran a hand down his face, clearly agitated. “It is entirely unnecessary.”

She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “Is it really that bad? That I want to know more about your world?”

Severus let out a slow, measured breath, rubbing his temple. She could see the internal battle written across his face. He wasn’t just being difficult for the sake of it—he genuinely disliked the idea.

Y/N softened slightly. “Look… I know you like to keep your work and home life separate. I respect that. But I spend all this time telling you about my day-to-day life and I know almost nothing about yours, it’s a huge part of your life. I mean, I spend most of my days at the hospital, and you know everything about my job.”

Severus exhaled through his nose. “Yes, and I like hearing about your day, there’s not much about my job.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, please, Apparently you got staircases that move, a giant squid in the lake, and ghosts floating around like it’s normal.”

Severus gave her a look. “That is normal.”

She smirked. “Exactly. And yet, I’ve never seen it.”.”

He glanced at her but said nothing.

She reached for his hand again. “Just one day. You don’t even have to introduce me to anyone. I’ll just sit quietly in the back of your class and watch.”

Severus let out a low groan. “That is worse.”

Y/N smiled. “Why? Are you afraid I’ll make you look soft?”

His scowl deepened. “No.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“The issue,” he said through gritted teeth, “is that my students are insufferable, and the last thing I need is them seeing me with my wife.”

She blinked. “So… they don’t know you’re married?”

Severus hesitated before looking away, his expression unreadable.

“Oh my God,” she said, covering her mouth with a laugh. “You never told them?”

“There was no reason to,” he muttered.

She gaped at him. “Severus! That’s kind of a big thing to leave out!”

He glared at her. “It is none of their concern.”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming now,” she said, grinning. “I have to see their reactions.”

Severus let out a low sigh, rubbing his temple. “That is precisely why you should not come. It is hardly a place for—” He hesitated before finishing the sentence.

“For a Muggle?” she supplied, arching an eyebrow.

His expression darkened. “For anyone with an ounce of common sense,” he corrected. “Hogwarts is not a place for idle visits. It is a school, not a spectacle.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Severus. Please.”

He turned his head slightly to look at her, his dark eyes scanning her face. He saw the sincerity in her expression, the soft crease of her brow as she studied him, waiting for a response. She wasn’t asking just out of curiosity—she genuinely wanted to understand him better. And damn it, she knew he had a hard time saying no when she looked at him like that.

He exhaled sharply. “You will hate it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Severus scowled, his mind already running through all the potential disasters that could unfold. His students were incompetent enough on their own—throwing Y/N into the mix would only invite chaos. And worse than that, it would invite questions. His students had no idea he was married. He preferred it that way. He had spent years crafting an image of himself as the cold, unapproachable Potions Master, and the presence of his Muggle wife would shatter that illusion in an instant.

She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “Please, Severus?”

He stared at her, his jaw tightening. He should say no. He should put an end to this ridiculous idea immediately.

“…Fine,” he muttered begrudgingly.

Y/N grinned, squeezing his hand. “I knew you’d say yes.”

He scowled. “You are infuriating.”

“And you love me for it.”

Severus didn’t respond, but the slight twitch of his lips gave him away.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

An hour later, after a quick breakfast and much grumbling from Severus about how she would regret this decision, they stood near the fireplace in their home, preparing to Floo to Hogwarts. Y/N smoothed down her scrubs, glancing down at them with a small frown. “Maybe I should’ve worn something different.”

Severus eyed her attire critically. “You look perfectly fine.”

“I don’t exactly scream ‘Professor’s wife,’ do I?”

“You certainly don’t scream anything remotely intimidating,” he deadpanned.

She smirked. “That’s your job, isn’t it?”

He let out a long-suffering sigh before grabbing a handful of Floo powder. “Just stay close to me and, for the love of Merlin, do not engage with the students more than necessary.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but nodded. “Got it. No making friends with your little minions.”

“They are not minions,” Severus growled. “They are reckless, imbecilic—”

“Children,” Y/N interrupted with a pointed look.

Severus sneered but didn’t argue. Instead, he tossed the Floo powder into the flames, watching as they roared emerald green. He stepped inside and held out his hand. “Come.”

Y/N took a deep breath before gripping his hand tightly. “Hogwarts, here we come.”

And with that, they disappeared into the flames.

There was a rushing sensation, the world blurring around her as they were pulled forward at an almost impossible speed. The swirling green light engulfed them, and before Y/N could even catch her breath, they landed in a grand, dimly lit room.

She stumbled slightly, but Severus’s grip on her arm kept her upright.

“Jeez next time, warn me about what that feels like” she muttered, brushing off imaginary soot from her coat.

Severus ignored her, instead glancing around to make sure they hadn’t landed in the middle of some unwanted company. The office they arrived in was old and regal, lined with countless bookshelves and moving portraits. An enormous wooden desk sat at the far end of the room, and a fire crackled warmly in the hearth.

Y/N looked around in awe. “Wow. And this is just the entrance?”

“This is my office,” Severus corrected. “We are in the dungeons.”

She blinked, glancing at the dark stone walls. “Your office is in the basement?”

Severus gave her a dry look. “Dungeons.”

“Right, dungeons,” she said, barely suppressing a smirk.

“Come.” He gestured for her to follow him toward a narrow doorway leading to a long corridor.

Y/N stepped out behind him, and the first thing she noticed was the cool, musty scent of the stone walls. The hallway stretched on, lit only by torches flickering along the sides. It was eerily quiet, save for the soft echo of their footsteps.

“This is… very ominous,” she observed.

Severus merely hummed in response, leading her through a series of winding hallways. As they walked, the silence of the dungeons slowly gave way to the distant sounds of the castle waking up—muffled voices, the occasional burst of laughter, the clatter of footsteps on stone.

Y/N’s eyes wandered everywhere. The moving paintings, the candlelit chandeliers, the impossibly tall ceilings—it was like stepping into another world.

Severus, of course, was entirely unfazed, walking with the same long, purposeful strides he always did.

She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked. “Are you really that miserable working here?”

Severus glanced at her. “I never said I was miserable.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He sighed. “It is… tolerable.”

She smirked. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about your job.”

“I am attempting to maintain my patience with you,” he muttered.

Y/N only laughed.

As they ascended a stone staircase, the sound of students became louder. The moment they stepped into the main hallways, the atmosphere shifted entirely.

The castle was alive.

Students in robes moved through the corridors, chatting and laughing, their voices echoing through the massive stone halls. Some carried books, others had cauldrons or parchment in their arms. It was a chaotic yet strangely organized scene, and Y/N found herself grinning as she took it all in.

However, as soon as students caught sight of Severus, the energy changed. Conversations hushed. Students moved aside instinctively, pressing themselves against the walls to avoid crossing his path. Their gazes flickered nervously between Severus and—

Her.

It was subtle at first—just a few curious glances. But as they walked, the stares became more blatant.

Y/N could practically hear the thoughts running through their heads.

Who is that?

Why is she with Snape?

Wait—Snape has a wife?!

A few students even whispered to each other behind their hands, their expressions ranging from confusion to outright shock.

Y/N bit back a laugh. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Severus, on the other hand, was clearly unamused. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable. He didn’t acknowledge the students gawking at them, though Y/N could tell he was very aware of it.

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Do they all think you’re a celibate vampire or something?”

Severus shot her a sharp look, his mouth pressing into a firm line.

She grinned. “That’s a yes.”

He inhaled slowly through his nose, as if summoning every ounce of patience he had. “Do not engage.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said sweetly.

Severus led her through the halls, ignoring every wide-eyed stare and hushed whisper. It was clear that the sight of him with someone—let alone a Muggle—was an event in itself.

Y/N, however, found it thoroughly amusing.

Eventually, they reached the entrance to the Potions classroom. Severus paused before pushing the heavy wooden door open, casting her one last warning glance.

“Sit in the back,” he instructed. “Do not speak to the students. And under no circumstances are you to distract my class.”

Y/N placed a hand over her heart in mock sincerity. “I would never.”

Severus narrowed his eyes but said nothing, instead stepping into the classroom.

This was going to be interesting.

The moment Y/N settled into her seat at the back of the classroom, she felt the students’ stares practically burning into her.

It was obvious they were dying to know who she was.

Even as Severus swept into his usual lecture—his voice sharp and commanding—the students kept sneaking glances at her. Some whispered behind their hands, others tried to subtly turn in their seats.

Y/N smiled to herself.

Severus, of course, pretended not to notice. He moved about the room, giving instructions in his usual crisp, no-nonsense tone. “Your Amortentia samples are to be completed by the end of this period. Any foolishness will result in immediate expulsion from my classroom.”

A few students gulped.

Y/N had to resist laughing. Merlin, they’re all terrified of him.

As the students got to work, the room filled with the bubbling of cauldrons and the soft scribbling of notes. The scent of Amortentia—the powerful love potion—lingered in the air, a strange mix of everyone’s most beloved smells.

Y/N sat quietly at first, watching.

But it wasn’t long before one of the students—Hermione Granger, if she recalled the name correctly—turned in her seat and whispered, “Excuse me, miss, but… who are you?”

Immediately, all the students nearby went silent, their attention snapping toward her.

Y/N smiled, leaning forward slightly. “I’m Y/N. Severus’s wife.”

The effect was instant.

A ripple of shocked murmurs spread through the room. Several students exchanged wide-eyed glances, some looking downright baffled. A few even turned to gawk at Severus, who was currently occupied with examining a student’s potion.

“Wife?” Ron Weasley whispered, looking scandalized. “Snape’s married?”

“Since when?” someone else asked.

“Wait—how does that even work?”

Y/N chuckled, resting her chin in her hand. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you just look so… nice,” a Hufflepuff girl said hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should be saying it out loud. “How do you—um—how do you get along with Professor Snape?”

Y/N grinned. “Sev is an absolute sweetheart once you get to know him.”

A collective wave of disbelief washed over the students.

“Sweetheart?” Seamus Finnigan repeated, looking as if he’d just heard the most absurd thing in the world.

Several students immediately turned to look at Severus, as if trying to reconcile this new information with the man they’d known for years.

Y/N laughed at their stunned faces. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I promise you, once you get past all the scowling and dramatic cloak billowing, he’s actually really kind.”

A few students stifled their laughter at her description.

At that moment, Harry Potter—who had been unusually quiet—spoke up. “How did you two meet?”

Y/N’s smile softened. “Ah. That’s a story.”

That got their attention.

The students leaned in, completely abandoning their potions in favor of hearing whatever ridiculous story had led to their feared Potions Master getting married.

Y/N rested her elbows on the table. “Well, it happened one night when I was walking home from my shift—”

“Shift?” Hermione asked.

“I’m a nurse,” Y/N explained.

That sparked more interest

“A Muggle nurse?” Dean Thomas asked.

Y/N nodded. “Yes. I work in a hospital.”

A few students whispered among themselves. Clearly, this was fascinating information.

Severus, who had been preoccupied with monitoring cauldrons, finally seemed to sense something was amiss. He turned sharply, his eyes narrowing when he saw his students sitting in rapt attention—not to him, but to his wife.

“What,” he asked slowly, his voice low and dangerous, “are you all doing?”

Silence fell over the room.

Then, almost simultaneously, every student turned back to their potions, stirring frantically as if they had been paying attention the whole time.

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Severus narrowed his eyes, then shifted his sharp gaze to her.

Y/N only gave him an innocent smile.

With an exasperated sigh, Severus turned away, resuming his usual rounds through the classroom.

The moment he was far enough away, the students subtly turned back toward her.

“So?” one of them whispered eagerly.

Y/N smirked. “Where was I?”

“You were walking home,” Hermione reminded her.

“Right,” Y/N said. “So, I was walking home after my shift, and I found Severus lying in an alley.”

Gasps.

“An alley?” Ron whispered in horror.

Y/N nodded. “He looked like a homeless man.”

That was too much. A few students actually gasped again, while others smacked their hands over their mouths to stifle laughter.

“Wait—so, what did you do?” Dean asked, his eyes wide.

“I went to help him, of course! He was hurt. I assumed he was a regular person, and I’m a nurse—I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“So, you had no idea he was a wizard?”

“None at all,” Y/N confirmed. “He was just some grumpy, half-conscious man bleeding on the pavement.”

Seamus covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand slightly. “And… what happened next?”

Y/N smirked. “I patched him up, brought him home, and he tried to be all moody and mysterious about it. But I wasn’t having it. He was injured, so I made him stay.”

The students listened, completely enthralled.

“What did he say?”

“He mostly just glared at me.”

“Did he at least say thank you?”

Y/N snorted. “Of course not. But, eventually, I found out he wasn’t just some random man. He was—well, him. And, for some reason, he kept coming back.”

“And now you’re married,” a Hufflepuff boy said in amazement.

Y/N smiled. “Crazy how life works, huh?”

The students exchanged looks, still struggling to comprehend this new reality.

Before any of them could ask more, Severus’s voice cut through the air.

“Get back to work.”

The students instantly snapped to attention, scrambling to focus on their cauldrons.

Y/N bit her lip, glancing toward Severus. He was giving her a very pointed look, his dark eyes filled with something between exasperation and why did I let you come here?

She only winked.

Severus inhaled slowly through his nose, then turned away, resuming his lecture.

The moment he wasn’t looking, one of the students whispered, “You have to come to every class.”

Y/N grinned.

After the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, the students took their time packing up their things. Usually, they were eager to escape the dungeon and their intimidating Potions Master, but today, they lingered.

They weren’t ready to say goodbye to Y/N just yet.

“That was the best Potions lesson I’ve ever had,” Ron muttered to Harry as they gathered their books.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Who knew Snape’s wife would be so cool?”

Meanwhile, a group of students had gathered around Y/N’s desk, talking to her in hushed, excited voices.

“You have to come back,” Seamus insisted.

“Yes! Please?” a Ravenclaw girl pleaded.

Y/N laughed. “I don’t think Severus will allow it.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked. “It’s educational, isn’t it? Learning about Muggle medicine? I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would approve.”

Several students nodded eagerly.

Y/N smirked, glancing toward Severus, who was currently rubbing his temples as if trying to ward off a headache.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered.

“You’re being dramatic,” Y/N teased, standing from her seat. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

Severus gave her an unimpressed look. “For whom?”

“The students loved her,” Dean interjected. “Honestly, sir, she should come to every lesson.”

Severus fixed him with a cold stare. “Would you all prefer detention?”

Silence.

Dean shrank back slightly. “…Noted.”

Severus exhaled, clearly exhausted, and turned to Y/N. “Come. We’re leaving.”

Y/N grinned, then turned back to the students, who still looked hopeful.

“Well, I suppose we’ll see,” she said.

A chorus of disappointed groans followed.

“Please?” a Hufflepuff girl begged. “Even just one more time?”

Y/N gave her a knowing look. “I doubt it will be just one more time.”

“Exactly,” Seamus said. “That’s why you might as well keep coming back!”

Y/N chuckled.

Severus, however, was at his limit. He grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the door. “Enough. We are leaving.”

Y/N let herself be led away, throwing a final wave to the students as they called after her:

“She’s coming back, right?”

“She has to!”

“She makes you bearable, sir!”

That last comment made Severus stop in his tracks.

The students froze.

Very slowly, Severus turned his head toward the direction of the voice.

Silence.

Then—

“GO.”

The students scattered, grabbing their things and rushing out of the dungeon in a chaotic blur.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer.

“You love them,” she teased, squeezing his hand.

“I loathe them,” Severus corrected, his voice dripping with irritation.

Y/N only smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but Y/N didn’t miss the faint pink dusting his ears.

Oh yes.

She was definitely coming back.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape #severus snape x reader #professor snape #x reader #harry potter oneshot #snape x reader one shot #oneshots

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