Strugglingbigtimw - LocalWoman

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here we go <3

Masterlist, Part I of __

"Oh my God," someone from his right gasped loudly. "God really has favorites!"

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as he patiently waited for the elevator door to open. It was too early in the morning for someone to be this loud, or for someone to have this amount of energy. In fact, he thought it was peculiar. Despite him being the most handsome and perfect man on this whole planet with a godlike body proportion, clear skin, the most expressive eyes, and despite him being the genius that he was, and well, despite him being flawless in everything that he did, he could not for the life of him be that energetic when it was six in the morning. For heaven's sake, he still hadn't gotten his coffee.

Jin simply did not have the energy to deal with this person.

"Good thing you're a doctor!"

Jin took the deepest breath known to man, before breaking his intense and angry eye contact with the elevator. He noted that he would have the whole system replaced by Jungkook's company. The time was just unacceptable, he thought. Besides, he hadn't gotten enough beauty sleep last night because he stayed up late patching up the man Taehyung was torturing and the asshole called him at a godforsaken hour just because he didn't want the fun (also known as Tae’s torture) to end just yet.

What a psycho, he thought.

Well, they all were, he surmised. They just hid the madness in order to blend well with the society. He meant, who would even think that the beloved and heavily awarded actor was a high-functioning psychotic shit? Kim Taehyung was just that- a master manipulator when it came to emotions. They all had their own talents, though.

"I'm sorry?" he asked in the voice he used to communicate with his difficult patients. When he turned, he could have sworn you were really a patient if not for the white robe and identification card that you were wearing. He thought you looked like someone who escaped from the ward with the way your hair was haphazardly and carelessly tied in a bun, the bags under your eyes looked heavy that he almost recoiled. It was as though you and a peaceful night of sleep were strangers

He read your name and the department that you were working in.

Department of Psychiatry.

"How can I help, Doctor Y/N? Do you need medical assistance of any sorts?"

Your smile got even wider, and he was almost certain you were losing it. However, to you, you were just elated to hear your name passed his plump lips. Ah, you thought, you really loved working here. You were on the verge of transferring to the hospital your professor owned in the province. He had been attempting to pry you from this hospital, and you were ready to say yes. In fact, you already filed your resignation.

How could you say no to a seventy-percent increase? To a greener grass? To being able to afford to pay loans your family unfortunately passed onto you and buy your basic necessities?

Well, this face would do it.

"Yes. I feel a shortness of breath and you're to blame. You just took my breath away..." you explained, the smile still present on your face. The elevator dinged open, and you waved at the frozen medical director, the highest position in this hospital, with a glee. You entered the glass box, waiting for him to get in. "The medical director will hear about this!" you playfully scolded him

Alas, it looked like you broke him today.

He was still looking at the spot you had just vacated as though his mind circuited. On the other hand, you were on your way to take back your resignation. You just found your reason to stay. You were waving at the man blushing profusely enthusiastically as the door was closing, and yet he remained there.

Ah, what a good morning indeed, you thought.

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand and for the first time in his whole life, was taken aback by the reckoning force that you were.

That day marked your entrance into his life, whether he wanted you to be in it or not. And well, that day unknowingly sealed your fate. You couldn’t leave his life, whether you wanted to or not.

You became a somehow...permanent fixture in his life.

“Tadaa!”

Kim Seokjin jumped when he heard your voice for the first time today. He didn’t even have to turn to know it was you- you made sure that your voice alone was etched in his genius brain. He was always on guard when you were near, and fuck, even if you weren’t. It was like he had an internal alarm when you were near that kept screaming that there was a foreign substance near him, rendering him a different man. One that was not confident, one that always seemed to blush when you were near and he loathed it!

He was perfect and he was used to being in control with his emotions! What was this atrocity! How was a person such as you managed to disable his flight-or-fight instinct?

Jin blinked owlishly at the steaming cup of coffee you were eagerly presenting to him. It was his from his most favored coffee shop, he noted. It was off the way to the hospital.

And it was still hot.

It was six in the morning.

What time did you wake up for this?

“I know you must be tired from that six-hour surgery,” you noted lightly, smiling up at him. He looked good in scrubs and you couldn’t help the heat rushing through your cheeks when he met your eyes. “I thought you needed coffee. I asked your staff and they said this is your favorite.”

See, every time you talked, his brain just circuited and he didn’t know why. Although he possessed extraordinary genius, he still couldn’t find the reason why. He was not a bubbling mess. No! He was the image of perfection!

“I don’t…drink coffee.”

Idiot, he thought. Why did he say that?! You saw him several times with a coffee in his hand. Your elated expression fell immediately, the glint in your eyes fading. He was beating himself inside when the door opened behind him, his colleague, Doctor Seong-Min walking out and he immediately saw you.

“Oh! My favorite doctor!” he greeted you as almost everyone in the hospital knew of you because of your extrovert personality and high energy.

“Good morning, Doctor Seong-Min,” you greeted politely, though the tone of your voice was definitely knocked down. “You were in the surgery with Doctor Jin, right?”

He nodded before slapping Jin’s back once, “This man right here saved the patient twice. He definitely didn’t give up on-“

“Do you like coffee?” you cut him off, your exhaustion from your shift plus the trip you took to buy him coffee was now taking a toll on you and you wanted nothing but to sleep on your own bed.

“Yes?”

“For you! Have a good day, doctors!” you waved at them before walking away. Ahh, your mind was filled with thoughts of food and sleep. Finally, your day off!

Kim Seokjin’s mind, on the other hand, was filled with panic that he hurt your feelings and also anger to the doctor that was now about to sip the coffee.

“Give me that!” he hissed, pulling the coffee away from the equally exhausted colleague of his.

“What?! No! I need coffee!”

“This is mine!”

“She gave this to me-“

“No. Mine,” he announced as he successfully wrestled the coffee away from the confused doctor. “Okay, goodbye.”

”Close my eyes, embrace my matter”

Summary: Nanami has a bad day at work, so you decide to help him. Word count: Almost 1K

Cw: sub! Nanami, choking, reader has him in a chokehold, handjob, cum eating, grinding, cursing, marking, dom! reader

A/N: I’ve been missing him, so i decided to treat him and myself.

Nanami Kento is a man burdened with responsibility. 

Even now in his late 20s, as he tries desperately to catch a break, the borderline Sisyphean task of leaving work at work suffocates him. That’s where you come in. You often nag him when he returns to the house with blue-black eyebags and a clear chip on his shoulders. 

“It’s nothing Darling. I just had a rough day at work.” Your ass. 

So you take it upon yourself to care for him in small ways. Making him coffee in the morning. Fixing his tie, or wiping stray hairs or eyelashes out of his face. Ironing and steaming his button-downs to perfection.

Tonight is no different. You wait for Nanami to get out of the shower with some lavender massage oil on your shared nightstand. He’s always told you he thought lavender making you sleepy was an exaggerated pseudo-fact by large wellness corporations, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

You hear the drumming of his footsteps and you assume he’ll fall into his usual routine. He’ll put on his boxers, maybe a loose T-shirt if he gets cold. He’ll sit on the edge of the bed while you carefully dry his hair after some gentle convincing. You’ll try and give him a massage, but he’ll stop you once you reach his shoulders. Nanami has never been comfortable being pampered. Then he’ll lay on the bed with his bagged eyes closed until he eventually falls asleep. 

However, he smashes those expectations quickly when he swiftly throws on some boxers and practically throws himself on the bed, still drenched. 

Well. At least now you have your chance. 

You swiftly straddle his chiseled back. The stray water droplets soak into your garment while you lay yourself on top of him. God, he’s beautiful. You can see the curve of his long lashes and the slight pink that remains on his skin from the heat of the shower. 

“Kento.” 

“Mhm?” He muffledly asks from his place on the pillow, not even opening his eyes.

“Want a massage, baby?” 

He pauses. Usually, he would say no, but tonight is full of surprises. 

He gives you an exasperated, “Yes, please.” 

So begins the massage. Your skillful, oil-covered fingers lull him into a pleasant limbo. Then, a third expected thing happens, you grab his neck. 

In moments like these, he would be able to keep his cool, but the exhaustion and the vulnerability flowing through him and the blood rushing towards his dick makes it difficult for him to hold back. You hear his groggy gasp and see the back of his ears shine a reddish hue. 

“Kento…Baby?” 

He has no response other than to just bury his head into the pillow in shame. 

Still, you know better than to give up. 

You lean down pressing your chest into his back, slipping one hand near his jaw and the other close to his happy trail. 

“Kento…Did you like that? It’s ok if you did because I liked it too.” You whisper into his ear. 

He doesn’t respond but the wiggling of his hips tells you everything. 

“Kento, baby, lemme take care of you.” You whisper into his still-burning ear. This night wasn’t supposed to go this way, but fuck, if you both didn’t love it. 

You slowly move your oil-covered hand from his jaw and place it near his neck. 

“Just lift your head for me a bit baby, ok?”

He complies. You slither your arm under his neck until you can feel his adam’s apple bop into your forearm. You squeeze his throat between your arm and he lets out a groan. 

“Good job baby. Tap my arm three times whenever you feel like it's too much ok?” 

He grabs your wrist as confirmation. You kiss below his ear while whispering a “Good boy” as you slide your other hand finally down into his boxers. 

You already feel him throbbing in your hands. The oil on your hand gets mixed with the surprising amount of precum he’s let out. 

“You must really like this. Huh, baby?” You sigh into his nape. He thrusts into your hand. 

You thumb his slit and slowly, but surely stroke him. The whole time you whisper to him in between the kisses you leave on his shaking shoulders: 

“You’re doing such a great job baby. Thank you for letting me take care of you.” 

“You’re so handsome like this. We should do this more often.”

“You’re so turned on right now. Don’t worry, I am too.”

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you like this. Do you want me to choke you harder?” 

The combination of the restricted airflow, your hands touching his sensitive dick, and feeling you grinding onto his lower back in an attempt to ease the friction between your legs leaves him gasping. However, what drives him over the edge when you suck a Hickie onto the junction of his neck and shoulders. The feeling and knowing that you wanted him so much in this moment you had to physically claim him? Fucking break him. 

He curls his hands into the sheets, almost ripping them underneath his nails as he climaxes. The ropes of his seed shoot into your hand as he convulses under you. He pants and groans as you remove your arm from his neck. You notice you left a red mark around his neck. You suck on your cum covered fingers in an attempt to ease yourself. Tonight truly was something special. 

Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?

Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.

I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.

Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.

There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.

And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.

And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.

I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.

Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.

there’s absolutely nothing better than reading a 100k word fanfic, that is until you remember you have a body that is starving, thirsty and incredibly sleep deprived and hasn’t used the bathroom since the sun set 8 hours ago