#i feel like ive become one of those people that turn 18 and then immediately go 'minors dni'. im not there yet but i just.

[gobstoppr]

and btw im in my hater arc rn. as time goes on the more i find a lot of 'fandom' stuff insufferable (i like art n stuff. just the way that fandom refits every media to fit a single mold and set of boring archetypes is exhausting.)

i just get really easily annoyed lately. and have been unfollowing people on a whim a lot. its not personal i promise

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Some people would call you far too serious. Some would call you stuck-up. And some would call you a bitch. But to freshman Jeon Jungkook, you’re the head Calculus I TA noona  – and he’s determined to fuck you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, pussy spanking, fingering, m-receiving oral, doggy, dirty talk); non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

"I think Jungkook likes you."

The lead of your mechanical pencil snapped suddenly. Stupid soft graphite. You glared at it, annoyed, and brushed the broken piece away to complete the equation. 

"Who?"

"I think he's taking the afternoon class."

You double-checked the last question and handed him his homework back. "Jimin, you used the wrong equation, here and here."

Park Jimin frowned, face falling when he saw all your corrections. Being one of your parents' friends' kids, your parents and his parents naturally asked you to help him out when he entered the same university as you. You pretty much figured the likelihood of Jimin speaking to you was zero, since he was a dance major and you were a graphics design major. You shrugged and agreed.

Except you forgot you were also the head Calculus I TA and Calculus I was a required course for all students. And, turns out, Jimin wasn't that great at math. That's why you were sitting on cushions at your coffee table in your apartment with Park Jimin, watching a music program as you checked his homework.

"Oh."

Jimin began to look over your arrows and circles. You never actually gave him the answer. He usually ended up forgetting a step in the middle and thus fucked the answer. Usually he caught on easily once you pointed it out. 

You stared at the television screen, listening to the latest hit. Not bad. Catchy. 

"I think I should tell you because he's kind of reckless," Jimin was saying.

You placed a hand under your head and took a sip of your tea, distracted by the cute MC with the blue hair. He had a cute smile. It reminded you of a bunny.

"Who?"

"Jeon Jungkook," Jimin snapped impatiently.

You raised an eyebrow and faced Jimin. "Oi. I'm correcting your homework here. I could just correct it tomorrow and hand it back to you with red marks instead," you threatened.

He pouted at you, his full lower lip sticking out. "Sorry, noona."

You sighed. "Don't call me that. Makes me feel ancient." You turned your body so you faced him as he scowled at his homework. "Okay, okay, I'm listening now. What did you want to say?"

Jimin put his pencil down immediately and began to chat like an excited gossiping auntie. Round brown eyes getting rounder, glad for a break from his math homework. You didn't want to get him started, but he was going to nag you incessantly until you let him talk.

"I think he sits in the back?" Jimin pondered. "Dark longish hair, wears a lot of black. Looks scary when he's thinking because his eyes go really wide and he furrows his brows."

You twisted your mouth to the side and thought. You only attended the class when they had quizzes or exams because during lectures the professor didn't need your help. Mostly you remembered people by their personal scores or their handwriting, because you graded everything as the head TA. Looking at people's faces wasn't really necessary, unless you were looking for cheating. 

"Can't recall. I remember his handwriting though. Not bad," you said, shrugging. "I think he's pretty highly ranked at the moment."

"I think he likes you."

You scoffed. "How did you come to that consensus?"

Jimin tapped his temple sagely. "Intuition."

"If only you used that intuition on Calculus."

He frowned at you, pouting again. You let out a puff of air, conceding.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Jimin scratched the back of his head. "Well, er... I'm just warning you."

"... Is he a serial killer or something?"

"No, no, no!" Jimin waved his hands on the air hurriedly. "He's really nice. But he can be kind of, uh... forward."

"How old is he?" you asked, glancing at the television for a moment as you took another long sip of your tea.

"Two years younger than me."

You choked. 

"What?" you squeaked between coughs. Jimin hurried over and patted your back as you struggled, becoming pink in the face. "The fuck? Tell him to find someone his own age."

"I did!" Jimin whined. "But he's stubborn."

You rolled your eyes. "You're warning me that I have to break a poor freshman's heart?"

"Kind of."

You rubbed your throat. "Hmph. Darn whippersnappers these days."

Jimin smacked your arm, laughing. "I thought you weren't ancient?"

"I am now knowing some kid is fantasizing about their fucking Calculus TA."

You had said your comment sarcastically. You fully expected Jimin to make some joke, but he froze up a little. You looked over to him. He looked somewhat guilty, like a lost puppy who got caught stealing food. You sighed and patted his back.

"Don't worry, I won't chew your friend's heart out. Finish your homework, so I don't drop you off too late. You have practice in the morning, yeah?"

"Y-yeah, thanks."

-

Forward, huh?

An understatement. 

You were sitting in one of the math department offices, laptop open, your drawing tablet in your lap, thinking. The conversation with Jimin happened about two days ago. In that time, you hadn't attended either morning or afternoon class yet, since it was only lectures. Not that it mattered, because lecture halls were massive. If this Jungkook kid sat in the back, then you probably wouldn't be able to see him anyway. At the moment, however, you were preoccupied with your assignment, to design a logo. Logo designing was difficult, especially since a school assignment didn't exactly have a real client attached to it to ask questions. 

Technically these were Calculus I office hours, but who attended office hours? Nobody.

Who attended any type of calculus office hours?

Yeah, exactly. 

You spent the time doing homework with the door open. You were the only TA that actually showed up for the office hours. Every other TA said it was a waste of time. It was. You still came through; in the off chance some poor kid decided her grade mattered. You felt bad since the actual professor wasn't very patient when people needed extra help. Also, technically you were the head TA, so you did have a bit more responsibility than the others.

Your black boots were perched on the desk as you sat back in your office chair, sketching a few ideas. If a member of the math department saw you, you would probably get in trouble. Thankfully, the math department was usually deserted. Math wasn't exactly the most social subject. 

You took a sip of your tea from your thermos, tapping your tablet pen on your black jean-covered thigh. 

"You look even better close-up, noona."

A clear, silvery, male voice cut through the silence. The voice came from the doorframe right in front of the desk. You frowned, slowly lifting your head from your tablet. How had you not heard him? Were you really that focused on your assignment?

Chucky black sneakers. Black cargo pants, slim fit. Distressed black sweater, hands casually in his pockets. Broad shoulders. Lightly tanned skin. Sharp jawline. A tiny mole under a mischievous smile. Your eyes narrowed as you made eye contact with those sparkling dark brown orbs. Long hair slicked back, with only a few wispy strands on his forehead. 

"Calculus I question?" was your response. 

His smile quirked a little higher. The young man didn't have a backpack with him. Didn't even have a piece of paper stuck under his arm. Wasn't even trying to pretend that he needed help.

"I have questions."

He didn't elaborate. You lowered your legs, placing your tablet on your laptop. 

"This is Calculus I office hours. For calculus questions only."

His eyes flickered to your laptop and tablet. Back to you. 

"Is this what the TAs should be doing during office hours?"

Suddenly, you could feel your pulse in your ears. Point taken.

"What do you want?"

He slid into the chair across from the desk, hands still in his pockets. Watching you carefully, still smiling thoughtfully. It should have been unnerving, but there was no malice in that smile. Maybe you were imagining it though, so you kept your guard up. 

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

Yeah, I guessed, you thought wryly. "And my name is on the syllabus. What do you want?"

He tilted his head at you, studying your face. 

"How do you know Jimin-ssi?"

Isn't Jimin older than you, punk? "Our parents are friends."

He nodded slowly. He looked around the windowless office, at the three papers tacked to the wall – outdated notices – to the still open door, to the desk with your laptop, tablet, and backpack. Then to you, sitting back in the black office chair, eyebrow raised, hands half-in the sleeves of your gray flannel, cropped black sweater underneath. 

"I think you're beautiful, noona."

Your brain winced at the compliment and your hormones looked up from the abyss. Your brain scolded them to go back to their hidey-hole. You clicked your tongue. 

"I'm too old for you."

There was an ever-so-slight tick of his head. His eyes shifted downward and then flicked back up to you, almost shyly, if it wasn't for the small smirk dancing on his lips. 

"We both know such a mindset is outdated."

You felt your breath catch in your throat. The fuck? Your hormones peeked out again. Your brain was too distracted with trying to find a comeback to tell them to fuck off. You figured you better cut this off right now before it went too far. 

"This whole conversation is inappropriate," you said evenly, standing up from the chair and rolling it back. You walked around the desk and stood in front of it, balancing your ass against it. You crossed your arms over your breasts. "You should leave."

He slowly, slowly gazed up at you. Why did he look so satisfied? Your heart did a little three beat skip. Stop it. Keep it together. Jungkook got to his feet, hands still in his pockets. Then he pulled them out and pushed his sleeves up.

Oh?

Tattoos ran up his right arm, the beginnings of a sleeve. Ink black against light tan, flexed muscle. He was not a skinny pretty boy. You were so busy staring at his arms that you barely registered him placing them casually on either side of you, face right next to yours. Now you were staring down at his broad chest, at his black distressed sweater.

"Excuse me?" you snapped testily, lifting your head to look into his smug eyes. 

"I won't touch you," Jungkook murmured quietly. "Unless you ask me to."

This punk ass bitch.

You narrowed your eyes. "What makes you think I would?"

That small teasing smile came back. 

"Well, for one, you haven't actually told me you have absolutely no interest yet."

Your hormones prodded you excitedly. Your brain told them to shut up. Your eyes moved to the open door behind his head, looking into the empty hall, trying to keep a balanced, even tone. It came out a little sharper than you intended.

"Door's wide open."

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Jungkook purred, breath on your cheek. 

You tried not to react even though your hormones were fucking losing it. "What about you?" you shot back sharply. 

You heard Jungkook chuckle. "Fuck no I'm not." Your heart jerked heading the crude word come out so daintily and casually from his lips. "I want to be seen with you. All the time. In every position." 

You finally tore your eyes from the open door to give him the side-eye. "Real big words there."

Jungkook smirked. "I'm giving you a chance to tell me no. It's taking everything in me not to bend you over this desk right now and fuck your brains out."

You sucked in a breath. Accidentally. Not on purpose. There's absolutely no way Jungkook would have noticed unless he was literally right next to you. Which he was. Shit. He leaned in closer, still not actually touching you. 

"You like that idea?" he breathed, the lust evident in his voice, not even trying to hide it. 

"I am not some easy bitch at the club, Jungkook. This is the fucking math department," you scolded, eye-level to the base of his neck, wanting very badly to make out with it.

Now it was his turn to inhale sharply. He pulled his head back, and now you were face-to-face with those dark, dark eyes, falling, falling, your body screaming at you to do more. And still you didn’t, torn between reason and instinct.

"I'm so pissed," he growled, breath against your lips. "That the first time I hear you say my name, I wasn't watching your pretty lips form it."

Those few strands brushed against his exposed forehead, framing his furrowed brow and those intense dark brown eyes, making you breathless, telling you that you should, even though the last shreds of reason were telling you, do not, do not, do not give in to Jeon Jungkook. 

"It's the middle of the damn day," you murmured.

"And you make me horny every second of every day," he groaned, so close now that his nose almost touched yours. "With your stem stare, your assertive stride, your well-spoken words, and your beautiful body that demands to be kissed, loved, fucked." He panted, shoulders shaking. "God, I want you under me so bad. You have no idea, noona."

Resolve? Hello, where are you?

You raised an eyebrow. "You think you're enough for me?"

His dark eyes gleamed. 

"I know I am."

Your eyes flickered to the open door, the vacant hall, feeling Jungkook's body heat hovering so close, so close to you, and then you shifted your eyes back to him. Your brain was screaming at you and your hormones bonked your brain silent. The words at the tip of your tongue came tumbling out, nothing to hold them back anymore. 

"Let's see."

And then you kissed him.

Jungkook’s reaction was immediate, his large hands leaving the desk, grabbing your waist, ramming his crotch into you. You gasped against his soft lips and he slid his tongue inside, playing with yours, moaning, kissing you hungrily. His fingers pressed into you through your clothes, strong, tight, unforgiving. Your eyes flew open, surprised at his eagerness. He retreated his tongue and nipped at your lower lip, sucking on it lightly. You shivered, feeling him lift you onto the desk, pushing your legs open with his hips, grinding against you. He kissed down your chin, lifting your head impatiently, moaning against your skin. Every gentle kiss a jolt to your system, contrasting with his rough hands kneading your waist, pulling you close against his firm body, the fucking desk cutting into your thighs, eyelids fluttering.

There was movement at the door.

You froze.

Jungkook’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking sharply. You choked back a wanton moan, seeing a familiar face. A familiar, plump smile with cute, lovely eyes. He waved a small hand at you and reached for the doorknob, locking it from the inside before winking at you and closing the door silently.

Park fucking Jimin.

That bas–

Your thought was sharply cut off by Jungkook nipping at your throat, hissing as he rolled his hips into your thigh, a distinct bulge pressing into you. He yanked down the front of your sweater, sucking on the space right between your collarbones. You whimpered and shuddered, wrapping a leg around his waist and hooking him towards you, hands finally leaving your chest and grabbing his, fingers getting caught in the holes of his sweater.

“Fuck,” he growled. “I’m so fucking hard already because you’re so fucking hot.”

You caught yourself against the desk, elbow slamming onto the wood. You winced. “I haven’t done shit,” you said, surprised to feel your lips slightly swollen.

Jungkook grinned. “You don’t have to. Just you below me is enough.”

You glared at him and he bent over the desk, grabbing the back of your head, pushing your face to his, kissing you again, stealing your breath. It was the perfect mix of force and desperation, leaving you yielding, back arching as he sucked on your tongue, bobbing his head up and down slightly to pull on it. You tried not to make noise – everything was already too noisy anyway – only crying out softly when he let you go. Now you were on your elbows with Jungkook towering over you, licking his lips, the spare strands now stuck to his exposed forehead. His eyes roamed over your body before landing back on your face. You gave him your best questioning look.

He chuckled darkly. “I want to rip all your clothes off, but something tells me you will be upset with me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Because this is still the middle of the math department, let me remind you, Jungkook.” You huffed. “I don’t live here. Don’t get crazy.”

He grinned, leaning forward. “Say my name again, noona. God, let me watch your delicious lips speak my fucking name.”

You raised your eyebrows. Then you felt his hands on your jeans, undoing the button, making you jump. The zipper going down, down. He yanked at the seam, digging it into your already wet pussy, shoving your panties into your slit.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

Oh fuck. That sounded kind of pathetic.

He bit his lower lip, and yanked again.

“J-Jungkook, ah…” Your eyelids fluttered, trying to keep your strict demeanor.

“Fuck,” he hissed, firmly gripping the waistband of your jeans and pulling them down your ass, half-dragging your panties down. “You like that, noona? Do you want me to be rough with you?”

You prayed to the higher power that he would just take the damn hint and not make you say it. But Jungkook was dragging your panties back up, the thin black fabric being sucked into your folds and ass as he pulled them far too high. You gasped, trying not to look down, trying not to look at his face. But he grabbed your chin, dragging you back to him, making you open your glazed eyes, making you see his excited expression.

“Look at me, noona.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jungkook held the front of your panties and pulled, hard. You had to choke back a moan, the fabric nearly ripping, rubbing harshly against your clit. You felt the squelch of you getting wetter, hearing it clearly as he yanked at it, stimulating your clit.

“Tell me you don’t like it, noona,” Jungkook whispered hotly, letting go of your chin. “Tell me and I’ll stop.”

You spread your legs involuntarily, trying very hard not to make a fucking sound, but it was already obvious by your fists clenched against the desk, your widespread legs, and your pussy lips practically sucking your panties in, so much so that they nearly disappeared into you.

Jungkook snuck a glance down, gasping softly at your glistening pussy being tortured by your panties. He dropped to his knees and you had only one second to be confused before Jungkook’s tongue licked up your slit. You had to slap a hand over your mouth to avoid crying out, leaving your sounds limited to muffled whimpers as he lapped at your juices, groaning into you. Your entire lower body vibrated as he teased your covered clit, smushing the fabric into your deeper, rougher. Your hips strained, trying to hump his face but only digging your panties into you harder.

You removed your hand from your face, biting on your tongue to regain some semblance of thought so you fucking talk.

“T-take it off…” you gasped. You looked down, seeing his mischievous eyes above your quivering mound, licking his lips slowly, pink tongue tracing the contours of his mouth.

Jungkook raised his hand.

Smack!

This time you had to actually shove to knuckles into your mouth and mute your squeal as pain radiated through you, your pussy stinging. He slapped you again, right on your clit, hard, making your throw your head back and nearly hit the desk, hips raising to meet him. Oh, God. He pressed his finger against your aching clit, rubbing hard, standing up to bend over you, an impossibly strong presence as he pleasured you.

“Say it, noona,” he breathed. “Tell me you like getting your pussy spanked.”

He was rubbing your clit so hard that you felt your hips raise into it, eyes rolling back into your head.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” he warned menacingly, voice so low it ripped through you.

You tore your knuckles out of your mouth. “Don’t stop, please, fuck, Jungkook, I love it when you spank my clit, fuck, please, fuck.” The words came jumbling out in a rushed, half-panicked whisper, cut off by your sharp gasp as your orgasm clawed into you. You felt Jungkook slap his free hand over your mouth, shutting off your wail as your throbbed into his hand, turning into helpless whines as he spanked your clit hard and fast, accentuating your high with waves of sudden, aching pain. You pushed his hand away, pressing your head against the desk, gasping.

“Harder, please, Jungkook, harder.”

He was staring at your fucked-out face, massaging your throbbing pussy with his palm, coating his fingers with your cum. Your voice a thin moan, hips rutting into him.

“Believe me, I want to,” he snarled. “I want to so fucking bad, noona, but we’re already loud enough and you’re making a fucking mess.”

He pulled your panties down, nearly useless at this point and roughly shoved two fingers into you. You gasped, tongue lolling out and he took the chance to put two fingers of his free hand into your mouth, rubbing your wet tongue. You could feel every joint, the calluses of his fingertips as he thrust them into you, slopping, wet sounds accompanying his movements.

“Fuck, look at you, noona, sucking in my fingers, letting me fuck your mouth,” Jungkook murmured, centimeters away from your face. “I haven’t even fucked you with my cock yet and you’re already taking me so well.”

If you could think, you probably would have a snappy response, but Jungkook was stuffing his fingers into your mouth and scissoring the others inside your pussy, driving you insane. You made eye contact with Jungkook, him and his blown-out pupils, his lips trembling as he rammed his fingers into your holes faster, harder, sliding you up the wooden desk. Something inside you snapped and you squeezed your eyes shut, your body shaking as you came again, trying to yell, but unable to because Jungkook shoved his fingers into your throat, making you almost choke if it wasn’t for your own expertise. An embarrassing amount of liquid poured down his hand and wrist, dripping down your thighs. You clamped your legs shut, burying his hand, hips jerking as the aftershocks rippled through you.

You heard Jungkook swallow loudly, jaw tight. He slowly pulled his fingers out of both holes, strings of bodily fluid following him as he did so. Your shaking knees were barely holding your lower body up, jeans constricting your calves and your upper body way too fucking hot.

You laid back on the wood, trying to catch your breath. Was it a fucking cliché? Probably. You felt Jungkook lift himself off the desk and you closed your eyes, chest heaving. Of course. He was just going to leave you like this, tearing your secret out of you and then leaving to boast about how he turned the head Calculus I TA into a helpless, submissive puddle of goo without even actually fucking you. Why did you even bother–

You suddenly felt the desk creak and snapped your eyes open to Jungkook climbing onto it, straddling your chest, unzipping his pants right in front of your face. His slicked hair was becoming unfurled now, more and more dark strands falling down around his ears. His brow furrowed, eyes so wide and focused you weren’t even sure he was actually looking at you.

“Uh–”

He reached in his black boxer briefs impatiently and pulled out his thick, leaking cock. Your eyes widened and his found yours, glittering with arousal. A smear of pre-cum grazed your cheek as he adjusted his position to push the red, bulbous tip against your lips.

“I want to fuck you, noona, but you have to clean me up,” Jungkook breathed, gently asking you but also trying to greedily push his dick into your mouth.

You could say something, but somehow you concluded you were going to be muffled anyway, so you opened your mouth, tongue snaking out and licking the head. Flat, wide, and all over, coating your tongue with his pre-cum, moaning at his taste. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip, hissing softly as he spread his legs even more, lowering himself slowly into your mouth. You licked around his cock before closing your lips and sucking, growing wet as he thrust his hips into your mouth, slow and steady, eyes closed. You reached up to hold onto his thighs, whimpering as you felt his muscular quads through his pants. He opened his eyes and looked down at you, sliding his cock in a little deeper, hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, noona, so fucking sexy, taking my cock like that,” he groaned, reaching down and pushing your hair out of your eyes. His dark hair hung down, framing his face in shadow, making your pussy throb at the image. “Makes me want to fill all your holes up, makes me want to coat you with my cum and see you covered in it, messy and dirty with me.”

You couldn’t say anything so you just whined, nails digging into his covered thighs.

“You want that?” His voice dropped several octaves again. Your skin prickled hotly with every word. “You want me to jack off all over you and leave you a mess covered with my cum?”

You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for friction, now moving your head to suck harder, rubbing the tip fiercely against the back of your throat.

“F-fuck,” he gritted out. He tapped your hand hurriedly, eyelids fluttering. “S-stop, stop.” You whimpered, sadly looking up at him. He chuckled, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

Look here you little shit, you can’t say all that dirty stuff and not expect me to be horny, your eyes were telling him.

“I know, I know,” he purred. “But I want to fuck your pussy and office hours are almost over…”

You glowered at him, but reluctantly unhinged your jaw, opening your lips. He slid out, gasping, hitting you in the chin and getting the front of your sweater wet.

“You’re a jerk,” you muttered as he climbed off you.

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, noona.”

You shook your hair and reached into your backpack, pulling out a condom, only to turn around and see Jungkook pulling one out of his back pocket.

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “You’re prepared.”

Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew what I was coming for.”

A muscle in your brow twitched as he tucked his tongue in his cheek, grinning widely at you as he ripped it open and slid it on slowly, rolling it down his thick cock. His voice changed, dipping raspy and low.

“Turn around.”

Part of you wanted to fight, but then you spied the time. You rolled onto your stomach, sighing exaggeratedly as your legs tangled a bit in your jeans. You felt Jungkook’s presence behind you as he bent over your back, hand sliding over your lips and covering your mouth.

“Sigh all you want, noona,” he growled, chuckling as you shivered. “Just don’t scream when I’m fucking you.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the head press against your puffy pussy lips, pushing in forcefully, expanding your tight little hole as his cock entered you, his moan against your ear, your name dripping with lust. Both of you still mostly clothed, but his cock sliding deep, deep inside you, his teeth on your earlobe. Your walls throbbed around him, squeezing him. He gasped, jutting his hips experimentally into you. A stifled moan sneaked past his fingers, your tongue licking them lightly.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “Nice and tight for me, bent over this desk.” He nipped at your ear, whispering softly as he began to fuck you. “What if someone hears you, whimpering for my cock, begging to be fucked?”

Your hands clenched into fists, eyes fluttering shut, feeling him pound you into the wood, deep and slow and far too perfect.

“Noona, what if someone sees you?” His voice like smoke, invading all your thoughts, threatening your dreams, cursing you with the feeling of his lips on your ear and his hips pounding your ass. “Proper, harsh, strict noona turning into a slut for this cock, bent over this desk and humping my hips so you can get this dick deeper inside you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and wiggled your ass against his cock. He thrust his hips harder into you, jerking you forcefully upwards, your thighs smacking against the desk. Light flickered in front of your closed eyelids and you opened them, seeing your phone screen glaring at you. A message from Jimin. Finish already! You struggled to say his name and Jungkook lifted his hand for a moment to hear your shaking breath.

“Jungkook,” you panted. “Time.”

He covered your mouth again. “You’re right,” he grunted, rolling his hips into you, biting back his moans as you clenched around him. The wet, slapping sounds became louder as he changed his angle, fucking you roughly into the table. It pushed your hips up and you clung onto the edge of the desk, moaning around his hand, tongue pressed flat against his palm as he fucked you with reckless abandon, beating a damn indent of the edge of the desk into your thighs. The dull ache was going to lead to a bruise, but you didn’t care, pushing your hips back to meet him. A choked wail vibrated in your throat as you came again, whole body lurching as he sunk his teeth into your clothed shoulder, groaning as he came inside you, cock twitching and throbbing against your walls. You felt the condom expand, matched with Jungkook’s hiss as he pumped into you. You pulsed your pussy around him and he detached his mouth, whispering your name against your ear.

“You’re dirty, noona,” he rasped, the words so breathless they made you shiver. “I love it.”

You shakily reached up and peeled his hand from your mouth, gasping as he straightened to hold the condom and pull out of you. Fuck. Oh fuck. You scrambled for your phone, seeing Jimin’s text.

You better rush outta there, noona.

You heard the wet, peeling sound of Jungkook pulling the used condom off gingerly. You turned around, hissing at Jungkook before he threw it in the trash.

“Are you crazy?” you muttered, snatching it from him. “Someone will see.”

Jungkook blinked at you. “What else do I do with it?”

You glared at him and tied it up, grabbing some tissues and wrapping it inside. Then you shoved it in your backpack, along with your laptop, your tablet, the spare condom, and reaching over the desk to unplug your laptop’s AC adaptor so you could shove that in your bag too.

“Fuck, your ass is so sexy,” Jungkook marveled behind you.

“Jungkook, we have to get the fuck out of here, so pack your damn dick,” you ordered, yanking your jeans up. Squelch. You sucked in your lower lip in at the cold, uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties. You zipped your bag and checked around the desk to make sure you took everything. You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your back pocket, turning around to see Jungkook rezipping his pants. Thank God. You might have been tempted if he hadn’t listened to you. Then you remembered the two bits of condom wrapping on the floor and picked those up too, shoving them in your other pocket.

Jungkook smirked at you. “So thorough, noona.”

You scowled at him. Maybe he hadn’t been in this situation before, but you sure as hell have.

“Stay here for twenty seconds and then leave.”

Jungkook pouted at you. You felt your heart skip a beat.

“But I don’t even have your number.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ask Jimin. You two are in cahoots anyway.” You popped your head out, looking around. No one. You popped your head back in. “Also, you owe me new panties the next time I see your smug little face, you punk,” you added, tone irate.

He smirked at you; his long dark hair wispy around his playful eyes.

You gave him one last look before you tore your eyes away, rushing through every back stairway to get the hell out of there before someone could realize you just fucked a freshman during office hours, your slopping, torn-up panties reminding you with every step that you really needed Jeon Jungkook to fuck you again.

-

part ii

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masterpost

[burnedbyshoto]

a nurses job

— Bakugou breaks his arms and as a nurse, you have the responsibility to make sure that he is comfortable, even when he needs to use the bathroom.

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pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x nurse fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, prohero!bakugou, golden showers/water sports/piss kink, degradation (giving), dirty talk, lusting/pining, handjobs

word count: 5,050

a/n: so, I was going to make this a piss in ur mouth and pussy type of fic, but I kept seeing all those beautiful bakugou piss arts where he’s with a nurse.... so this is inspired and brought upon by all the water sports bakugou x nurse art ive seen for three months.

kinktober day 21 main kink: piss | kinktober masterlist

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You’re not quite sure what persuaded you into wanting to become a nurse as a child.

Maybe it was because your quirk (when you hum at an A flat, everyone within 5 meters experiences accelerated healing properties) was useless for Pro Hero work, so you realized early on that being a Pro Hero was a distant dream. Maybe it was because medical staff were still hailed as everyday heroes despite being in a world with people who could perform extraordinary achievements. It started as a small obsession to prove to the soon to be jobless, dream broken, and graduated failures of the hero course high schools that you had done more than them. That you, unlike them, were recognized as a hero. 

You were decent with math and science, so you strove for medical school. But with the horrendous costs of schooling, your then living situation, and your dislike of unneeded and unwanted competitive stress, you deterred toward the nursing pathway. It was a pathway where you really found yourself, or at least, you thought so.

Empathy, emotion, and the need to see people come out of a hospital better than when they entered was something that grew on you quickly and obviously. Your earliest clinical rounds often left you with swollen, tired feet from walking around for restless hours, but with a smile on your face that was irreplicable. With every semester in school, you got better, connected better with your patients. Your feet still ache after long shifts, and sometimes your smile is hollow and broken, and if you look closely, you could see dried tears and puffy eyelids, but you wouldn’t ever regret this decision to become a nurse.

At twenty-five, newly graduated from nursing school, already working full time at the best hospital in Japan, while studying for your degree to eventually become a nurse practitioner. You loved your job quite a lot. They had placed you immediately within their Post-OP, ICU, and recovery wings, and even though you were somewhat new, you were celebrating a year of working in a few weeks, you already had some… more than familiar faces.

“Well, Ground Zero-san, I guess you owe me a drink because unless my eyes are deceiving me, it looks like both your arms are broken, no?” you hum, your grin bright and wide, not even attempting to hide it’s glee as your high profile patient sat seething on the hospital bed. “It’s been, what? Two weeks since you last showed up here? You getting old?”

“Oh, would you shut the fuck up, you shitty ass nurse?!” Bakugou snarled, his arms obviously trying to tense and move against the large casts that envelope him. “The fuck would you expect to happen when facing off with a quirk that’s specifically meant to break people’s arms?!”

“Deku didn’t break any arms,” you point out with a soft laugh, eyes still scanning and reading through his charts to check his medical needs and medicine prescribed by the attending and when he should be taking them. “A bit weird that only half of the Wonder Duo was indescribably injured, no?”

A loud snarl ripped from Bakugou’s throat, and you stifled your own laughter as you raised your eyesight to look him straight in his raging eyes.

“I took that damn nerds hits because he’s broken his arms so many fucking times he’ll be forced to amputate them if he breaks them again!” Bakugou’s eyes were near white in his anger, but the intensity of his emotions was heavily diminished by the fact that his arms were strapped to his chest in thick, round bandages.

“You can admit you care for him,” you chide, ignoring his ‘like hell I do!’ Placing the chart down and walking to his IV drip, you checked to see if anything he was hooked to required any changes or whatnot. “Besides, this is not the first time I’ve seen you in here! It was quite surprising to see Ground Zero on bedrest on my first ever shift here.”

That much was true.

You had been working at Tokyo Hospital for nearly nine months now. Within the nine months, you saw a lot of heroes; that much was true. Your quirk was versatile as a nurse, and you were bright, young, very good at your job, and definitely a beautiful individual. So, when you were assigned to be working most of your days healing heroes because they were the backbone of the country, it didn’t quite catch you by surprise. It was a common assignment you had as a nursing student too.

You just didn’t expect the head nurse of the floor to assign one of your five rooms to be holding none other than Ground Zero, a.k.a Bakugou Katsuki.

Of course, you weren’t an idiot. You had known about the explosion hero since high school! You had sat in front of your TV in high school, attempting to do your homework while watching the rather intensive first-year battles. He had done well in every stage, placing within the top three each time and even winning the game! You had cringed at the awards ceremony but had been horrified at the news of his kidnapping. 

But after that, with the rising tensions of the villain world upon the dying world left behind by All Might, you had forgotten him for a moment. As time went on, and finally, a new support system was brought forth, Ground Zero, much like his quirk entailed, exploded onto the scene alongside Deku and a few other young heroes.

So, sure, you expected to maybe one day run into the ash-blond hero, but you didn’t expect it to happen on day one.

All things considered, the two of you got along rather well.

His... strong personality did make you wary of him at first, taking his near verbal barrage until you, very flusteredly he will argue, told him to ‘shut up, you butthole!’

You were horrified at your lack of professionalism, and Bakugou had gone silent as he stared at you in silence.

“Did you just call me a butthole?” he echoed, his face full of emotions you could not read. You felt on the verge of panicking, unsure if he was going to potentially tell on you! The sounds of a barking laughter rang in your ear, and you looked up to see his grinning, much more relaxed form. “Are you some shitty preschooler?!”

Thus began a working relationship of sorts between you and Bakugou.

He was an asshole, and you tried your best to not let him talk you off a cliff. It didn’t take very long for you to find out what made him tick surprisingly enough, and you used that to your advantage. The best way to tease him right now was by reminding him that he had been hospitalized more times than Deku, who apparently had held the record for the number of hospitalizations between him and his friends.

“Are you going to mention that shit first meeting every time we talk?!” Bakugou barked, his eyes narrowed as he turned his head away from you.

“After you admit you care deeply for all your friends!” you chirp back, stepping away from his IV drip, satisfied by what you saw. “Well, you look good for now. I’ll be checking up on you every ten to fifteen minutes since you can’t press the button until we can get those casts off! Did ya need anything before I go check on my other patients?”

“Open the damn window; it’s stuffy in here,” Bakugou grumbled, his face finally facing you again. 

“Of course,” you smile cheekily, your eyes squinting with your broad grin. “It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy!”

Standing at the side of the bed, you stretched over Bakugou to grab the edge of the window and slide it open. Through your stance, you were entirely aware of how this looked, how this felt. Your breasts centimeters from Bakugou’s face, your eyes never once breaking from the window to feign your innocence as you finally pull away. Even with scrubs on, you could feel his hot, sharp breathes expelling through your clothes, his ears tinging just the smallest bit red as you smile.

“Anything else?” you asked sweetly, failing to hide your impish grin.

“Put the water cup close by,” he grunted, eyes staring at the liter of water at his side table. Well, he wouldn’t be able to use his arms until just before he was set to be discharged, so moving the water closer was a good idea.

Nodding, you grabbed a nearby cup, filling it three-quarters of a way full before placing it onto the feeding table and dragging it near his mouth, a bendy straw already secured into the cup. You watched as he shot forward, putting the plastic straw into his mouth and beginning to drink the cold water. His eyes were back on yours, deceivingly cold had you already not been an expert on his personality.

With one final soft chuckle, you waved at Bakugou as you headed out, a cheerful smile on your face as he continued to drink his water.

“See ya in a few!”

Well, you guess there was one more important detail about your relationship with Bakugou Katsuki. For the past five months, you have been doing everything in your power to seduce him — to get him to admit that he wanted you too.

You knew the ethics and the morals behind falling for a patient of yours, much less a high profile patient at that. You knew that if your little crush was ever found out, you would most definitely be moved from his room. You were also damningly aware that you should have brought up your initial feelings for the explosion hero to your admin the moment it arose. But the thought and the way you were always so happy to be around him eventually overruled your logic. Five months ago, you had stayed at the hospital until nearly three am, talking with a severely concussed Bakugou. You were stationed for an overnight round with the task of making sure that he didn’t fall asleep. And for the first time in your time knowing Bakugou, the two of you somehow clicked into place, and when he was discharged the next morning — the nurse who had a quirk to rid of concussions finally arriving — he had thanked you.

It was so benign, so incredibly simple, yet the way the golden sunshine illuminated his blond hair and made his red eyes shine like a ruby, you found your own tired body feeling heated and warm. He wasn’t such a lousy conversationalist, and you had already enjoyed all your interactions together, yet it still caught you off guard to feel your heart pounding in your throat as he pulled on his jacket and left.

So after coming to terms with your sudden infatuation for the stubborn hero, you began to express your desires and feelings for him without having to say it. For all that he was worth and all that he expressed himself to be extremely observant, Bakugou Katsuki still had no idea that you liked him.

Unfortunately, your scrub nurse uniform wasn’t precisely seductive. The light blue of the breathable, sterile uniform was about as unsexy as uniforms got. But that never stopped you from leaning in too close when doing what Bakugou demanded of you. It didn’t prevent you from accidentally dropping papers in front of him and bending over to show off the curves of your ass.

There had never been a time such as this one where you hated that the old, ‘sexy’ nurse outfits were no longer up to standard and banned from use. How you would have loved to be wearing gartered held stockings just to accidentally flash to Bakugou. But, you suppose that it’s alright. Even though your feelings and ambitions to get the Pro Hero to like you as much as you did him, you never tried to push it.

For now, you were just an asshole tease.

You carried out the rest of your rounds in peace, your pager sitting comfortably in your pocket, unused, unneeded for now. The rest of your four patients were doing well for now.

One was asleep, most likely due to the medicine coursing through his veins, but his vitals remained unchanged.

Another was in the process of getting ready to be discharged, her family there to help her in leaving.

The third was eating his dinner, eyes concentrated on a poker game on the TV as he asked you to help fluff his pillow.

The last was busy with a physical therapist, her forehead slick with sweat as she attempted to sit up from her chair.

All in all, they were all doing fine, and you were back to the beginning, back to Bakugou’s room.

You entered his closed room door to be greeted by an empty bed. Your eyes widened immediately, the initial wave of pure horror flashing through you that by some freak accident, some murderous villain had kidnapped the injured hero straight from the hospital bed. 

“Ground Zero-san?!” you called out, a pitched voice of concern frilling your voice as you stumbled through the room. Your eyes were frantically searching the room, fingers feeling the lingering warmth of his body on the bed and your eyes noticing the empty water cup on his table still. The sheets of his bed haphazardly thrown off as if in a struggle.

Your fingers wound around the panic button, your ears straining to hear any sort of sign of Bakugou still being here.

A gritted teeth snarl was muffled from the attached bathroom, and you froze, unable to move as you felt the untouched button in your hands turn as light as a feather. You approached the bathroom door with soft footsteps, the smile on your face, unable to be stopped as you pulled the door open.

The sight you happened upon was something that made your lips curl into a wider smirk as the hospital clothed-clad hero absolutely struggled with his lack of functioning hands and arms to pull down his pants. Something he couldn’t do himself because the socks and slippers on his feet kept him from even attempting to tug his pants off with his toes.

In his struggle, undoubtedly miserable attempt to get his pants and underwear off his waist, Bakugou seemed ignorant to your arrival. His back still towards you, his head tilted down in his struggle as he twisted and pulled at practically nothing.

And as you watched him struggle, you couldn’t help but let your eyes drink in his form that stood tall before you. Most occurrences where you found yourself face to face with Bakugou, he was always tucked in a bed (except that time you realized your feeling for him), whether it was because he needed to be or because he was forced to be. So seeing him in his full height, seeing how despite your size, you were still only at his shoulder, made your eyelashes flutter.

He was tall, so deliciously tall, you wanted to climb onto a chair to see if he would be taller even with that added height. And oh how the flimsy material of his hospital outfit was stretched then against the taut muscles of his back. They flexed and shifted with his aggravation, and the only thought on your mind was to rake your fingers against the tempting muscle and skin.

“Shitty. fucking. villain!” he hissed angrily, sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he still struggled to do what nature called him for. 

But you couldn’t help it; the flexing muscles of his back, the lower tenor of his voice, and the way he seemed ridiculously larger than life at the moment tipped your restraint over. Your ability to hold back crashing through you like a tsunami wave, drowning you until you found your hand tethered to the tight spot at the center of his spine, your hushed words drifting to his ear like sweet, warm honey.

“You need any help here, Ground Zero-san?” you asked, your voice just loud enough to have your hot breath fanning against his sweaty exposed neck. You could feel him twitch in your hold, his body stiffening as he whipped his head around to look at you, red eyes wild, wide, and dark.

“Don’t ya know how to fucking knock?!” he snapped, his body flushed at being caught in the bathroom, unable to shed his clothes. He doesn’t move from your touch, and that small detail makes you warm, knowing that he wasn’t entirely repulsed by your touch. 

“You were missing from your bed, and I called your name,” you smile despite his angry glare. “I know you are susceptible to hear loss, but I thought you were still in the clear.”

“I ain’t fucking deaf,” Bakugou growled, his face twisted with a frown. “And that still doesn’t explain why the hell you’re here!”

“Oh, were you not just completely struggling earlier?” you feign shock, the grin on your face unstoppable at the embarrassed scowl that sets on his face. You step even closer to him so that your torso is perpendicular to his side. Your hand still gently touching his muscled back, and your free hand gently pressing to his own abdomen, the feeling of his flexed muscles, making you dizzy as you peer down at the white toilet. “Is there a villain in the toilet? I didn’t think that was possible!”

“Of fucking course not, there’s not a shitty villain in the toilet.” Bakugou flushed, his body entirely trapped by you, but he made no play to escape.

“Oh, so did you need help?”

Bakugou stares at you, his mind whirling a kilometer a second as he contemplates his next course of action. The both of you know he needs help, and still, the both of you are aware that his ability to ask of that from you is slim to none given he couldn’t even wait for you to return to his room.

“Tch,” he clicks his tongue angrily, annoyed, completely fed up. His eyes rolling to the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge you as his head nods once. “Help me, shitass nurse.”

“Of course!” you chirp, your eyes finding his hooded ones.

You give him one last warm, sweet smile before the hand on his torso lightly drags down his stomach, soft in its unashamed way of feeling him up. Your head tilted as your fingers hooked into the tight waistband of his pants and pulled it down, the heat of your palm accidentally dragging itself over the imprint of his cock behind his boxers.

The slight, flustered choking noise at the back of his throat didn’t go ignored by you, but rather but aside for later. Your eyes flashing up to see his red eyes wide, his cheeks so lightly dusted with pink as you managed to pull down his boxers too. 

“There!” you exclaim, your eyes closing in your grin before you turn your attention back down to his exposed dick. 

Immediately, you had to hold back a noise of pure want and lust at the sight of him. He was long, undoubtedly eight inches, definitely more. Although you couldn’t tell how thick, you knew his dick would fill your palm without a struggle. The trimmed, dark blond pubes and the protruding veins are what did it for you, your tongue poking out for a millisecond to wet your lips as you stared at his dark pink head.

“Stop staring at it!” Bakugou hissed, clearly embarrassed if the slight voice crack said anything about it. 

You looked back up at him, fake confusion swimming in your eyes as you tilted your head. “It’s only a penis. I see millions of these all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s fucking weird!”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, your eyes rolling softly as you sighed in retreat, “Fine, fine, let's pee big boy and get you in bed.”

With your dominant hand, you grabbed his dick with a soft grip, pleasure simmering through you at the confirmation of the thick dick in your palm. But it seemed you weren’t the only one who thought that for the moment you tried to steer his dick toward the toilet to assist in aim, Bakugou hissed loudly. His flesh twitching to life in your warm, soft hand as it began to grow upward.

You didn’t say anything; your jaw remained as tight and closed as your vocal box despite the egging need to tease him and celebrate his apparent approval of your touch. So, eventually, in a voice that defied the nervous energy coursing through your veins, you asked: “Didn’t you need to pee?”

Bakugou let out a throaty, guttural groan, his anger hissing between his teeth as his dick twitched again in your hold, growing longer and harder still.

“I can’t take a damn piss with a hard-on, you idiot!” he roared despite the strawberry red blush on his cheeks. You admired the way he was still fighting for control of an upper hand here despite — clearly — not having any.

“Oh, haha! Silly me!” you laugh, your hand shifting against his length, your warm palm getting closer to the base of his cock.

“W-What are you doing?!” Bakugou spluttered, your soft butterfly touches sending him through a loop he clearly wasn’t expecting. “You could just wait for it to die!” 

“It’s a nurse's job to make their patients comfortable and happy,” you repeat your words, your hold on his dick growing firmer and harder just as his cock continued to do. “You clearly need to pee, and there’s no telling when your cock will go down.”

“I’LL MAKE IT GO DOWN!” Bakugou yells, but the usual sharpness to his tone has deflated, diminished to nothing but whining embarrassed yell. You look up at his clenched jaw and how a pretty pink glows on his cheeks, and you’re mesmerized.

Looking back down at his growing cock that warms your hand immensely, you hum, slightly twisting your hand around his length. Bakugou shudders, a whine hidden in his throat as you open your own mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” you question, your eyes fluttering up to look at his clouded red ones. “Do you not need or want me?”

That was a double-headed question if Bakugou ever heard one. He looked at your glossy lips, the way they were pouted, so ready to be kissed, to be claimed, and that delirious look of want and need in your eyes. And he knows better; he knows that this is not the place, not the time to act on emotions like this. The need to pee sits heavily on his lower belly, just like the need to cum makes him twitch and pace uncomfortably. God fucking damn his broken to smithereens arms.

But you already know this, of course, you do. But you also know how stubborn he can be, how anal he can be about the littlest thing. So with no answer, you weaken your grip, making him think that you’re ready to leave, and he falls right into the trap.

“Make it fucking q-quick,” his voice cracks, the embarrassment nearly tangible as you nod your head firmly, your fist tightening around his cock.

Your warm fingers pressed onto his length, beginning at a slow leisurely pace, your eyes glued onto his face, detailing how he reacts to every small flick of your wrist, every little difference of grip in his hands. Your strokes began to grow larger, your fingertips tracing the bulging veins on his cock, your eyes hypnotized by the way his face pinches in his pleasure, the blush on his cheeks, the way the hot pants expelling from his mouth curl warmly in your lower belly.

“Y-You do this with all your shitty patients?” Bakugou growls, but it sounds weak, too blurred and slurred with his increasing pleasure.

Your fingernails drag against the underneath of his cock, tracing the incredibly sensitive skin until he’s slowly thrusting his hips into your fist. “Only the hot ones,” you tease, your thumb pressing against the tip of his beading tip, the warm pre-cum slick and spreading quickly against his flushed tip.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Bakugou continues, his head tipping backward, exposing the slenderness of his neck that begs for your teeth to sink into. “Just needed to take a fucking piss.”

“Nervous, you’ll pee all over me, and I won’t want to suck your dick?” you ask, your fingers brushing near his scrotum, eyes blazing dangerously at the sight of his gasping, jaw-dropping face. His hips rut forward, leaking cock dripping with his pre-cum, and you giggle softly, fisting him faster, spreading the pre-cum against his heated sex.

Your fingers run against his throbbing length, your palm tight and hot against his cock, the veins you drag across searing against your flesh, ingraining itself onto your skin and memory forever. Despite it all, the obvious near tangible horror Bakugou has on the thought of pissing on you, he continues to fuck into your fist. 

“Damn bitch like you would probably l-like it if I pissed on you,” Bakugou pants, his casted arms twitching at his chest. His head tilted away from you, but his eyes burning into you, the red eyes hot as fire against your skin. “You want me to piss on you? Make you my bitch.”

The words burn against your skin, your teeth biting onto your lower lip as you meet his gaze. You’ve never considered it before, never thought you’d be into it. As a nurse, you’ve been around piss, shit, and vomit, and while you had grown unfazed by it, you never considered the prospect of a man pissing on you. But you thought of it, of Bakugou standing above you, free from his casts, hands on his cock as he smirks down at you with golden liquid spraying from his cock, soaking you where you lay. 

You shudder, pleasant chills running down your spine as you stare into his eyes yet again. 

“And if I do?” you ask, fingers rolling the head of his cock between your forefinger and thumb, relishing in the way that he snarls low in his throat. “What’re you gonna do about that, Ground Zero-san? You gonna piss all over your bitch after you get out of here.”

“You want me to piss on you here?” he asks, his voice snappish, strained, his hips drilling harder into your hand that was quickly speeding up. A battle of power and speed between the both of you as he looms over you, face flushed, pink, and lips demanding to be kissed. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you do.”

“Why’s that?” you breathe, his lips tantalizingly close to yours, a breath away as your hand grips and tightens even more around the base of his cock, causing a pained-pleasured hiss to rip from behind his teeth as he looks at you.

“Don’t act like your shitty ass hasn’t been trying to seduce me every time I show up,” Bakugou gruffs, his hips continuing a drilling rhythm into your fist, his body no longer shy or embarrassed.

“So you noticed but never said anything?” you counter, your fingers shifting over to his swollen, hot balls. You fondle them, tugging at their weight gently, taking in the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and the way his teeth tear into his lip. “Coward.”

“Hah?! Who the fuck—”

You can’t help yourself anymore, your mouth coming to slam against his in a piercing, searing kiss. He moans into the kiss, and you gasp back, tongues clashing together, teeth knocking into each other as awkward, nearing uncomfortable kisses are exchanged. His sweet scent of caramel wafts into your nose, and his grunts and groans are addicting, entirely enthusiastic noises that send your own thighs clenching shut to quiet the heated need in between your thighs.

Your hand increases in its speed, his whines and groans so pretty and piercing into you. 

“How fucking gross,” you laugh into his mouth, the slicked heat of his precum lathering your palm until soft noises of your fisting hand begin to fill the sterile bathroom. “You’re a child, wanting to piss on things that you shouldn’t. You came to the bathroom and got a hard-on instead of pissing, Bakugou, aren’t you embarrassed.”

“Y-Y/l/n,” he hissed, his jaw falling slack against your mouth. His hips are drilling into you faster and faster, the throbbing of his cock, the growing, thick scent of his caramel sweat filling the room and your senses. “F-Fuck!”

“Such a dirty, childish pro hero,” you smile your tongue curling into his mouth and dragging against the roof of his mouth as he shudders helplessly against you. “Cum already, Bakugou, cum and piss over yourself like some small brat.”

He shudders, and you find your mouth leaving his own as you stare down, spurting white ropes of cum pour from his tip, completely covering the toilet seat with his sticky white cum. And you watch as soon as his body collapses onto you, entirely spent from the orgasm, yellow piss streaming from his tip.

The toilet fills with his cum and piss, and you grin once his balls and bladder are completely drained. His cock limp and weak in your hand as you hum, your quirk activating and causing the exhausted Pro Hero to recompose himself so that he wasn’t entirely weak against you. 

“Such a good patient,” you coo, pulling up Bakugou’s boxers and hospital pants without a second's thought. Patting his butt gently, you watched as his still exhausted red eyes stared at you. You walked over to the sink, washing your hands so that you could continue to finish the rest of your shift.

“Don’t think this is over, shitty nurse.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your fingers curling under the warm water as you grin.

“I expect to be fucked and pissed on next time,” you counter, your smirk devastating and sending a fire right back to Bakugou’s groin. “No freebies anymore.”

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: “Two months too long”

Pairing: dom! Yoongi x sub! brat! Reader Ft. Namjoon Ft. Jin Ft. Jimin

Warnings: SMUT like a lot, fluff (just a bit), angst (eh), cheating/talk of cheating, abusive parents, oral (f) receiving, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), rough sex, orgasm denial (f) receiving

*Read in both perspectives, this a long one: over 10,000 words.*

Rating: 18 and over

Y/N:

“Faster, Faster!” You moan, yanking his hair, and grinding your aching cunt against his face. You’ve been at this for 20 minutes and you were no closer to your release than when you started. “Use your fingers!” You cry out. Jimin pops up from beneath your skirt, out of breath, lips swollen. “Jagi, this doesn’t seem to be working. Please, I need to be inside you.” He whispers in your ear, rubbing his erection along your thigh. “I don’t know why I am even doing this. We were supposed to just talk. I have to go.” You push him away. “Perhaps lover boy isn’t doing his job properly.” Jimin quips licking your juices from his lips. “This was a mistake Jimin, I can’t, we can’t do this ever again.” “We shall see Jagi. As always, it’s good to see you.” You rush out of Jimin’s office and race for the street, angry with yourself for thinking you could have a simple conversation with your ex. You hop into your car and pull out your phone sending a text that you know will just fall into the unknown like the rest. ‘I need you, please just answer me. I miss you. I’m so sorry.’ You wait and wait staring at the screen, as tears begin to fall from your eyes, for a response that doesn’t comes.

MIN:

Yoongi quietly contemplates whether he will respond this time. He does this every time you message, each message more desperate than the last. He’s ignored you ever since he walked out on your father’s birthday party, wanting you to suffer and hurt the way he did. A tap on the passenger side window snaps him out of his contemplation as he simply placed his phone in the cup holder. “If it isn’t my baby brother. Have you missed me?” Yoongi’s brother smiles wide, throwing his luggage in the back seat and taking his place in the passenger’s seat. “How was your flight?” Yoongi grumbles. “Nah, come on, is that anyway to greet me?” Yoongi sighs deeply but leans over and embraces his brother. Yoongi had never hated Jin, he was in the same boat as Yoongi, merely a passenger to their parents’ craziness. In fact, Jin and Yoongi had bonded over the years and become a source of comfort to one another. Jin was only older by a year but had taken over his father company after his death, becoming quite successful at his young age, something Yoongi admired and Yoongi’s father lusted after. A fact that neither boy allowed to sully their relationship, Jin even protected Yoongi at times from his father’s wrath. “Have you eaten?” Yoongi asks. “No but I can wait. My mother has instructed me to come straight to the house to see her upon landing.” Yoongi nods and begins driving. “How’s the love life?” Jin inquires, Yoongi chuckles. “I don’t do love lives.” “Good answer bro. I intend to meet many love lives out here. Mother has been pressuring me to choose a wife and I am uninterested.” “Well then, we should throw a welcome home party for my favorite brother.” Jin laughs out loud. “Speaking of, how is Namjoon?” Yoongi joins in on Jin’s joke laughing along with him.

Y/N:

“So, let me get this straight, you want me to convince him to talk to you?” “Yes! Exactly.” Namjoon nods sarcastically. “No.” “What? Why not?” “Well for starters you really messed up this time and second, I don’t care to be involved in your craziness!” You whine obnoxiously. “Joon, please. I need this, this one favor.” “Ah, then one favor becomes two and two three and you see the pattern here yeah?” You drop your head into your hands and begin to cry causing Namjoon to chuckle nervously. “Well, don’t cry. He just needs his space. You need to realize that not everything is your way. The people around you have feelings also and deserve to be treated accordingly.” You wipe your tears and look up at Namjoon. “I fucked up Joon and I don’t know how to stop fucking shit up but I know that I love him and I shouldn’t because he flat out told me he doesn’t love me but I still want him.” Namjoon sighs. “I think the best thing to do is give him space. When I see him, I’ll pick his brain a little but that’s all I’m going to do!” Namjoon warns as your face lights up. “When do you see him?” “Uh, Uh, bro code, remember?” “Yeah, yeah. What about us code?” Namjoon laughs. “That’s the thing Y/n, no one else puts me in a situation to have to play that card but you.” You roll your eyes at his response. “He will come around, hopefully, in the meantime you’ll just have to wait.” “I have to tell you something. I saw Jimin today. I know what you’re going to say. I shouldn’t have but I just wanted to get closure I guess, and it turned into something else completely and the entire time I was with him I just couldn’t stop thinking about Min.” Namjoon just stared at you in a disapproving manner, it made you feel anxious. You always thought highly of Namjoon, he was smart in ways you weren’t, and he always gave the best advice and right now you needed that. “Well, say something Joon.” “I just have one question Y/n, How do you ever intend to move forward if you’re always looking back?”

MIN:

“Okay, okay. How about this one? What do you call a cow with no legs?” Yoongi sighs and rolls his eyes but obliges his brother’s antics. “What?” “Ground beef!” Jin immediately starts cackling while Yoongi just shakes his head disapprovingly. They have been home for a time but no one else was home. “We should’ve just gone out to eat. I fear you’re losing your mind.” Yoongi tells Jin. “Yeah, I agree. Let me call mother and see what’s going on.” Jin walks off. Yoongi pulls out his phone and aimlessly scrolls through his Instagram, stopping when he sees a side profile mirror selfie of you in bed, hair tousled, wearing nothing but a thong and white crop top. He sucks in a breath at the sight, feeling his cock twitch to life. She’s teasing me and its working, Yoongi thinks to himself. He swallows hard, examining the photo with a fine-tooth comb, his heart beating at a rapid pace. His mind playing tricks on him, what if she was just with someone. You have your phone positioned to cover your face so he couldn’t really tell if you looked fucked out. “Wow, she’s hot! Do you know her?” Jin leans in over Yoongi’s shoulder. He fumbles with his phone quickly tucking it away. “What did your mom say?” “Oh! You really like this one huh? You got all nervous and I think you’re even blushing.” Jin teases. “Fuck off.” “Well in any case, mother is almost back from shopping. She’s going to bring food back with her. While we wait, why don’t you tell me about this girl.” Yoongi shakes his head, visibly annoyed. “She’s no one. Someone I was seeing for a bit but she’s just like the rest. Taking what she needs and discarding what she doesn’t.” Jin purses his lips, nodding in understanding. He taps Yoongi on the shoulder, “Day by day brother. Just take it all day by day. Anyone who doesn’t see how great you are doesn’t deserve your time. How about another joke to clear your head?” “Ahh, please spare me. I’d rather jump head-first into the river.” Yoongi jokes. “That can be arranged boy.” Jin and Yoongi both jump up at the sound of Lee An’s voice. They both bow deeply as she shoves past Yoongi and embraces Jin. “My son, my handsome son. Ive missed you so. Come, let’s eat, tell mother everything about your trip.” She takes Jin by the hand and pulls him towards the dining area. “Come brother.” He waves at Yoongi to join. “Actually, I would prefer some time with alone with Jin. I’m sure Yoongi has other things to do today, don’t you boy.” “Mother, Yoongi picked me up from the airport. He hasn’t eaten either and I’ve missed him as well.” She sucks her teeth at Jin. “It’s ok. Your mother is right. I have a lot to do today. We can catch up later.” Yoongi gives Jin a tight smile and turns to grab his things. “Mother that was rude of you.” Jin whispers. “I don’t care. I hate that boy and I don’t want you picking up nasty habits from him.” “I have ears you know.” Yoongi mumbles. “I wasn’t trying to be discreet.” Lee An hisses as she walks off. “Really, stay brother, don’t worry about her.” Yoongi chuckles and taps Jin on the shoulder. “It’s all good, I’ll see you later at Namjoon’s place, besides this will give you a chance to get out all those terrible dad jokes. Women don’t find those things sexy.” Jin laughs loudly. “I find just the opposite. It drives them wild.” Jin gives Yoongi a wink as he takes his leave.

Y/N:

You watch as the likes and comments pour in for your naughty little photo but of course the attention you want you don’t get. Namjoon’s voice rings through your head over and over. He was always right, even more so this time. How did you ever intend to move forward if you were always looking back? You were fooling yourself into thinking you needed closure from Jimin. You had since moved on from what he had done to you without a second thought but still you ran to him when Min left you high and dry because you figured you’d show him who was boss, again only fooling yourself. Now it seemed you may have ruined any chance at a normal relationship. “You told him you loved him? Girl, are you sick in the head?” You sat on your BFFs bed, sulking, filling her in on everything. “It doesn’t matter now, I fucked everything up. He doesn’t feel the same way and hooking up with Jimin again just put the final nail in my coffin.” “Yeah but he doesn’t know about that and you didn’t even cum so technically it doesn’t count.” You groan and throw yourself back on her bed. “Why can’t I just be happy?” Your BFF sighs deeply at your question. “Well for one, I think you might be an actual bitch.” “Wow, thanks! You’re really great at this!” She begins laughing at your response. “Okay, okay. You seem to be hooked on this guy and while I don’t approve, I am always down to help my girl out. With that being said, I happen to know that he is currently with Namjoon.” You hop up at this news. “How do you know this?” She gives you a sly smile. “I’ve been texting Joon and he told me they would be out and about today, planning some party. Maybe we should accidentally show up to where they’re going to be looking fucking bomb. Get that Min boys blood boiling.” “That’s fucking genius! I think I’m in love with you!” You say before jumping on her. “Let me text Joon and see what’s the tea.” “Let me borrow that red mini skirt.” You ask, running to her closet. She nods excitedly while texting rapidly. “Let’s see you ignore me now.” You whisper, looking yourself over in the mirror.

MIN:

“Who are you texting so much?” Yoongi ask Joon while shoving a dumpling in his mouth. “Ahh, Y/N’s friend, do you remember her from the party? I don’t know, maybe I’m reaching but I think we have chemistry.” Yoongi shakes his head. “I don’t think she liked me very much. She wasn’t very nice if I recall.” “Maybe you should try smiling more.” Yoongi pretends to choke on his food at Namjoon’s comment. “Now where’s the fun in that?” “Namjoon, hello, how are you? It’s so good to see you again.” Namjoon begins to stutter as Yoongi licks his lips looking over the guy who’s approached the table. He furrows his brow, trying to recall where he’s seen him before. “Jimin, what are you doing here?” “Finishing a business lunch. This place has phenomenal food. Who’s your friend?” He looks over at Yoongi, who’s heart drops to his stomach. “I know you. You’re the ex.” Yoongi states through clenched teeth. “Excuse me.“ Jimin questions, leaning in. “Y/N’s ex, the one who kissed her at her father’s party.” Jimin’s eyes widen suddenly. “Ahh, you must be lover boy. I would shake your hand, but it seems tasteless since I was just with Y/N today.” Yoongi jumps up from the table at the remark. “What the fuck did you just say?” Jimin takes a step back as Namjoon steps between them. “Gentlemen please, not in public. We all have reputations to maintain.” Yoongi’s body trembles with rage as he breathes heavily. “Calm down friend, as I recall she kissed me back at that party and came to my office to see me today. A fact I’m sure wouldn’t have been necessary had you been taking care of business on your end. No matter, I made sure she was handled just as she likes.” Jimin provokes with a wink. Yoongi chuckles and nods, passing his hand through his hair. “Let it go, Yoongi, he’s just trying to get under your skin.” Namjoon tries to calm. “Listen to Namjoon here. You wouldn’t want to do anything stupid.” “You’re right, she isn’t worth it.” Yoongi states calmly, grinding his teeth. He places money on the table and swallows hard, examining Jimin one last time before walking past him. “Good choice friend. Being the bigger person. I know how hard it is to resist her but I’m sure it’s harder to see her fucked out in photos on Instagram, knowing I’m the one who did it to her.” Yoongi’s breath hitches at Jimin’s words and he all but blacks out before spinning around quickly to slam his fist into Jimin’s perfect jaw.

Y/N:

“Shit!” Your BFF says aloud. “What? What’s going on?” “They are headed back to Namjoon’s house already.” “What? That was fast! He just said they were eating.” You look over to the passenger’s seat to catch her gnawing on her lip nervously. “Yoongi clocked Jimin.” Your jaw drops as you try to find words, heart frantically beating in your chest. “I don’t understand.” You feel tears burn in back of your eyes. “According to Joon, Jimin was at the restaurant also and approached them at their table and told Min you guys fucked and something about your picture on Instagram. Yoongi flipped and clocked Jimin. Damn that boys got it bad for you.” “Are you crazy!? What are you saying!? I didn’t sleep with Jimin okay. That’s a lie! And why would he even hit Jimin? We aren’t even together anymore; hes been ignoring me for almost two months. Why does he even care? I can’t, I have to pull over.” You abruptly turn the wheel, parking the car on the side of the road, and begin hyperventilating. “Calm down Y/N! What the hell?” Your friend rubs your back to calm you. “He’s never going to talk to me again! Everything is so fucked!” You sob. “I don’t want to be that friend that hits you with an I told you so but girl this Min boy was trouble from the start. You need to just let this thing go. It’s not worth all this grief.” “You’re right. I don’t need to hear I told you so.” You bark at her, yanking out your phone. “Oh, please don’t do what I think you are going to do.” She warns you. You dial Yoongi and wait for an answer. ‘You have reached the voicemail….’, You hang up and dial again. ‘You have reached the voicemail….’, you hang up and dial again. ‘You have reached the voicemail….’ but this time your BFF takes your phone. “Stop,” She shouts, “He doesn’t give a shit about you. He only clocked Jimin because men are territorial pigs not because he cares! I have had enough of that god damn Min boy. Now, we are going back to get you cleaned up and go get nice and shit faced tonight, and you are going to forget all about that ridiculous Min Yoongi!”

MIN:

It had been hours since Yoongi knocked Jimin on his ass. He smirked to himself as he looked over his swollen knuckles. He was good and drunk now, making damn sure he was numb to the pain. He nodded his head to the music playing even though he had no clue what it was. His eyes shifted frantically just trying to focus on something long enough to fool himself into thinking he could move about the party he and Namjoon put together for Jin. “There you are brother! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! This is Lisa and Jess. I overheard them talking about the infamous Min boy and they could hardly contain themselves when I said we were brothers.” Jin gives Yoongi a wink. “Is that so?” Yoongi looks over the two girls, not really his cup of tea but he’s not in the position to be picky. He needed to get his mind away from you and quick! Before he has time to speak Jess leans in for a photo. “Smile for the Gram!” Yoongi leans his head in and gives a sly smile. “Oh, me too!” Lisa leans in next and Yoongi obliges her with a photo as well. “Jin was just telling us he doesn’t have social media.” Lisa pushes herself against Yoongi to say. “Takes away from one on one time. I hate it.” Jin explains. “Maybe we can have some one on one time?” Lisa whispers into Yoongi’s ear. He takes a moment to take in her features. She’s a pretty girl, too much makeup honestly, which surprised him since she didn’t really need it. She begins to run her hand over his arm and press her breasts, which are spilling out of her top, into his chest. “Can we find someplace quiet?” She breathes heavily into his ear. Yoongi nods and leads her off. Jin winks at him, wrapping his arm around Jess, who pulls him into a kiss. Yoongi takes Lisa through the house, trying to get to a guest room. “This is good.” She says, yanking him into a dark room. “This is a restroom.” He drawls, flicking on the light. “I don’t mind.” She giggles, shoving him into the sink and dropping to her knees. He chuckles at her enthusiasm. “We can take our time. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” “I heard you have a big cock. Is that true?” She pants, pawing at his crotch. He growls quietly, covering her hand with his, trying to soften her brutish attempts at stroking him through his pants. “Hey, hey,” He grabs her by the chin and lifts her face up. “It’s not going anywhere.” She giggles while yanking at his belt, undoing his button and fly. “I heard you like it rough.” She yanks down his pants and underwear just low enough to free his semi hard member. “Mm, let’s wake him up shall we.” She states before licking at his shaft like a lollipop. Yoongi’s brow furrows as he tries to calm his mind. You’re fine. He repeats over and over in his head as she laps at his cock. “Don’t tease.” He whispers to her. She smiles up at him before suckling on his tip.

He moans softly, as she swirls her tongue around his now engorged tip. “There’s that big boy I’ve heard so much about.” She comments, examining his fully erect cock. She slowly begins to stroke him, a perfect bead of pre-cum forming at his tip. She swipes her thumb over it and slides it down his shaft. He hums in approval. She wraps her mouth around his tip again suckling at it while using both hands to pump his cock. He groans in discomfort at how tightly she clenches and twist his shaft, her hands beginning to dry around his dick. “Wait.” He says. She releases his now reddened member. “Open up.” He says gently, placing his hand on the nape of her neck. She does as she’s told, and he slowly slides his cock into her warm gaping mouth. He sucks in a breath at the sweet sensation of moisture that finds his irritated dick. He is almost inserted halfway before Lisa begins to gag and shove him back. He pulls away, stroking her cheek gently. “I’m sorry, are you ok?” “I don’t really do the deep throat thing. I know guys like it but to be honest I think you’re too big for my mouth. Literally, my dentist once told me I have an unusually small mouth.” Yoongi purses his lips but soon nods in understanding. “Don’t you worry Min. I can still make you cum.” She smiles seductively up at him, pushing Yoongi’s hands away from his member to insert his tip in her mouth once again. She slurps loudly on it while using both hands to pump his cock again. Yoongi bites his lip to keep from groaning in pain. She slows her pace much to Yoongi’s delight and he releases a relived breath until she twists her head to the side and grazes his sensitive tip with her teeth. “Ah!” He cries out. “Sorry! I just get so excited.” She giggles. Yoongi grips the countertop and tries to steady his breathing. He should stop this right here and now, but he doesn’t want to insult the girl. So, Yoongi just closes his eyes, trying to stay calm in the moment. “Mm, so good.” She moans, moving her attention towards his shaft, wrapping her lips around the left side and gliding her mouth along the side. She begins to twist her closed fist around the tip of his cock, tightening her grip with every turn, causing Yoongi to wince at the feeling. “Fuck.” He whispers to himself. “You like that baby.” She asks, turning her attention to the right side and gliding her mouth along his shaft once more, all the while still twisting his tip tightly. “Wait.” Yoongi cries out, unable to stand the pain any longer. “Gonna cum already.” She teases. “Uh, no, just, um, I like when you use just your mouth.” He mumbles, trying to hold back his need to take control of the situation. Lisa doesn’t exactly look like the type to enjoy Dom play and he wouldn’t dare try it since she seems to live off the rumor mill. “Well, I can’t get the whole thing in my mouth but maybe if I just focus on the tip…” Lisa rambles as Yoongi’s mind begins to wander on how to salvage this moment. He stands there, cock out and losing life, watching Lisa’s mouth move but not processing what she’s saying. Instead he wonders about you, what you were doing, what you were wearing, if you missed him. Try as he might, he can’t stop thinking of you, your cunt, your neediness, and the way you swallow back his cock with ease, like a woman mad. He growls at the thought, his cock coming back to life. He begins stroking himself greedily while Lisa watches in awe. He closes his eyes, imagining you laid out, on display for him, rubbing your perky tits, mouth opened and waiting for his seed. He moans loudly at the thoughts plaguing his mind, feeling his climax approaching from deep within his ball sack. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Open that pretty mouth for me?” He asks of Lisa. “Um, I, uh, I don’t swallow.” Lisa mumbles, eyes wide like saucers, clearly affected by the show. “What?” Yoongi says breathlessly and frustrated. “I don’t swallow, sorry. I hate the taste.” Yoongi groans, heading towards the toilet quickly. He strokes his cock desperately and cries out as he shoots his load into the porcelain. “We could fuck if you want?” Lisa offers. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry. I have to go.” Yoongi states calmly, fastening his belt and escaping the restroom.

Y/N:

“This is amazing. Really a great idea. Why didn’t we think to do this sooner?” You pass the bottle of Vodka to your BFF and she takes a swig. “I have no clue but Its exactly what we needed. Namjoon is so sweet right? Like he could’ve told me no when I asked to borrow the lake house no questions asked but he didn’t. Who does that?” You squint over at you friend, taking in her newfound glow. “Wow, I’m really sorry.” She looks over to you and laughs. “Why?” “I have been so consumed by everything going on with me that I hadn’t noticed that you were falling for Joon! When did this happen?” “Ok, so, no more Vodka for you.” She scoffs. “Come on be serious! Does he know?” “Ugh,” She throws her hands up in defeat, “I have no clue! Ok, full disclosure, I guess it started blossoming at the fourth of July party and he’s just been so sweet and attentive, and I’ve never experienced anything like that. Now we’re like talking a lot! I mean he sends me a good morning text every day. Who does that?” She passes you the bottle. “No one because chivalry is dead but,” You swallow down some Vodka and the large lump in your throat, “You and Joon are going to be really cute together. I think you’ll make a great couple. I can always ask him how he feels about you.” “Really? Do you think he could like me? Like do you get that vibe. I mean, I know he’s completely out of my league. He’s smart and charming and worldly. I’m just some random chick that happened to become friends with the cool kids if you will.” “Don’t sell yourself short. You deserve the best! And Namjoon is the best in this God forsaken city so you go get your man girl!” Your friend immediately starts laughing and you can’t help but join in. “You are super drunk!” “Are we expecting company?” You ask looking past her. She spins around, “Not that I am aware of.”

Your jaw drops as Namjoon approaches from the house. “Shit, girl. Act natural.” You whisper to your BFF, who’s face is turning a gorgeous crimson. “Sorry to interrupt ladies! I had assumed you would be alone.” Namjoon says directly to your friend. “Nope, no, not a problem. Please join us Joon.” You slap your hand on the blanket laid out on the grass underneath you. He chuckles. “Not to be rude, I was hoping that I could speak to your friend alone?” Your BFF gasps as you try but can’t hide the shock on your face. “Of course, yeah. Um, Is Bear still here? Maybe he can drive me back home. I am in no condition to drive myself.” You respond, shaking the Vodka bottle at him. He laughs and nods. “I can definitely arrange that for you,” He turns and reaches his hand out to your BFF, “Will you do me the honor and join me inside for a night cap and some conversation?” Your BFF nods at him, shock and lust gracing her face. “Hey girl, drive my car back to my place tomorrow?” You ask. She looks over to you and nods as she makes her way to the house. “You ok?” Namjoon asks, holding his hand out to help you stand. “No but I think I will be.” You stand and then pull him into a hug. He squeezes you tightly. “Yeah, you will be. You’re strong like that.” “Hey, Joon, is Yoongi ok?” He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “No, but I think he will be.” You nod. “Be good to her. She really likes you and she deserves to be treated like a queen!” You point at him with warning. Namjoon smiles wide, adjusting his eyes to see you better. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Y/N.” He looks down at his phone and then up at you. “Bear is out front. Get home safe. Promise I’ll take good care of her.” You hug him again and make your way out to meet your ride.

MIN:

“Be quiet. Your mother will freak if she sees you like this.” Yoongi strains, trying to keep a drunken Jin upright on the steps to their house. “She can be very overbearing, but she is a good mother Yoongi. I wish she could love you like she loves me. You deserve to know a mothers love.” Yoongi scoffs at the comment. “My mother wasn’t always how she is now Jin. She loved me once and in her strange way still loves me now.” He responds, leaning Jin against the house to retrieve his keys. He quietly unlocks the front door. “Shh.” Jin says to Yoongi, pressing a slender finger to his full lips. Yoongi throws Jin’s arm around his shoulder and helps him into the house. “That Jess girl really was nice, I might call her again. How was Lisa? Did you like her?” Yoongi shakes his head. “I think I’m good for a while.” Jin laughs quietly at Yoongi’s comment. “Animal! What have you done to my son?” The lights go on in the living room and both Jin and Yoongi find themselves looking up in shock at Lee An. “Mother, we are fine. Yoongi threw me a party. It was wonderful. We had a great time!” “You smell like a whorehouse! I knew I never should have let you hang around with this heathen!” “Stop it mother. I am not a child! Yoongi did a nice thing for me. You are always putting him down and I have had it!” Jin shouts. “Is that so?” Yoongi’s father appears from the hall. Jin swallows hard. “Sir.” Jin bows. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?” Jin drops his head in shame. “No sir. I apologize. I just got frustrated is all.” Jin explains. Yoongi’s father rests his hand on Jin’s shoulder. “Understandable. Why you are just being a proud hyung and defending your brother. Who can ever fault you for that?” Jin continues to look down. Yoongi’s father removes his hand from Jin’s shoulder and turns to face Yoongi, who immediately stands tall. “You should be honored Yoongi.” “He should be punished.” Lee An chimes in. Jin whips his head in the direction of his mother.

Yoongi takes in a deep breath as his father approaches him. “Sir, please, we did nothing wrong.” Jin pleads. “It’s ok Jin.” Yoongi murmurs. His father smirks. “You are almost enthusiastic for punishment son.” “Why fight the inevitable?” Yoongi’s father hums in agreement, turning to face Jin and Lee An for a moment, nodding briefly at a snarling Lee An. He spins suddenly and quickly, punching Yoongi in the stomach. The wind knocks right out of Yoongi’s lungs as he drops to his knees with a strained gasp. “Don’t.” Jin shouts, moving towards Yoongi. Yoongi’s father shoves him back hard, causing Jin to fall on his ass. “Don’t touch my son!” Lee An yells. Yoongi slowly regains his breath but only for a moment as his father kicks him in the ribs. He cries out in pain, rolling onto his side. “Get up!” His father shouts, grabbing him from the top of his head. Yoongi claws at his hand, fearing he will yank out the hair from his roots. His father releases him. He gains his bearings and stands upright on his feet. “Stop this now!” Jin shakes free from his mother’s grasp to intervene, only to be met with the back of Yoongi’s fathers’ hand. “Jin! Stay back.” Yoongi strains. He turns to face his father and reason with him. “Father…” His words are cut off by the intense humming in his head from being struck in the temple by his father’s heavy fist. He stumbles back but remains on his feet. “Do you wish to fight me son? I can see the anger in your eyes. That burning, you wish to strike me, don’t you? Well, come on.” His father moves close to him. Yoongi does not respond nor does he move but instead he drops his hands to his sides. They stare at one another for what feels like forever. Yoongi pants heavily, still struggling to breathe. “Please sir, just stop this now.” Jin calls out to Yoongi’s father. “You will never understand just how much I love you son, until you yourself become a father.” Yoongi’s father explains. “I don’t ever want to love someone the way you have loved me.” Yoongi responds plainly. His father smirks with a nod, striking Yoongi square in the mouth.

Y/N:

Your father was out of town on a business trip and you hated being alone in the house. It just felt empty and hollow without anyone around. You shuffled about in your oversized shirt and fluffy slippers, looking aimlessly for something to occupy your time. It had just started pouring out and you were instantly happy not to be at the lake. The rains usually brought in intense winds when on the lake and it made you nervous that a tree would fall over. You stood in your kitchen snacking on a granola bar, listening to the rain hit the roof, when a desperate slamming on your door caused you to shriek loudly into your empty home. Your heartbeat quickly in your chest and you wondered if you should even answer it. The knocking came again this time more intense than the last. You shuffle over to the door and press your ear against the cold metal. “Who is it?” You shout as bravely as possible. There is no answer, and you can’t help but think of every horror movie ever, where the dumb girl dies after asking who is at the door. “I have a big knife.” You call out now. Still no answer and now you panic wondering if the person on the other end has a gun. “Please go away. I’m calling the police!” You yell. “Y/N,” You hear from the other side, “Please, open the door. I didn’t mean to scare you.” You remove your ear from the door, your brows high in confusion. You yank the door open and gasp at the sight before you. “Oh my god, Yoongi, what happened to you?” You shake trying to grab a hold of a bruised and bloody Yoongi. You frantically look over his bloody nose, lip, and bruise forming under his left eye, unsure of if you should ask what happened. He takes notice of your alarm.

“Do I look so horrible?” He asks, leaning his weight on you. He smells of liquor and winces as you wrap your arm around his waist. “No, I just, are you ok? Did you drive here yourself?” He nods, walking over with you to the kitchen. “You could’ve killed someone.” You hiss, dropping him into a stool and rushing to grab ice and a wet wash cloth. “I needed to see you.” He confesses, stopping you in your tracks. “I thought you hated me.” You bring the ice over and place it on his eye while cleaning the blood from his face. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I couldn’t stay away any longer. You hurt me like everyone always does but you love me like no one else does.” He shakes his head, and you can see his free eye glisten with his held back tears. “Oh, Yoongi.” You swallow back a sob. “Don’t,” He cuts you off, “I don’t know what this is. I can’t decide right now. I just know that I needed to be with someone who doesn’t hate me.” He explains, allowing an angry tear to fall. You wrap your arms around him, his face buried in your chest. “I don’t care what happens after tonight. I just want to be here for you.” You kiss into the top of his head, allowing him to dig his hands into your hips and pull you closer to him. “Let me draw you a bath. It will make you feel better. Wait here.” You walk off to your room and into your attached bathroom. You sit on the side of the tub and begin to fill it with warm water, bubbles, and bath salts. You go back into your room to grab fresh towels and find Yoongi already undressing. You gasp and shift your eyes down to the floor. You hear him chuckle. “Shy doesn’t suit you baby.” He says, standing before you completely naked. Your eyes water at the sight of fresh bruising forming on his ribs. You feel your face flush as he walks over to you and takes your face in his hand. “Will you join me?” He whispers, rubbing his lips over yours and it takes everything in you to not pull him into a kiss. “If you want me too.” He just nods and walks into the bathroom, shutting off the running water.

You undress quickly and head into the bathroom to find Yoongi submerged up to his nose. You thank the heavens that you convinced your father to get the larger soaking tub installed. He shifts only his eyes over to you which causes you to giggle. He slowly slides his body up and waves for you to join him. You gently enter the tub, being sure not to lean against his battered chest but you are caught by surprise when he tugs you towards him. “Yoongi,” You tense up, “I shouldn’t put pressure on these.” “It’s ok, I just need you close.” He tugs at you again until your back is resting against his chest. You suddenly feel emotional and feel the need to tell him everything you’re thinking. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry Yoongi. I was so stupid. I need you to know I never had sex with Jimin. I don’t know what he said…” “Please stop talking. Just lay here with me.” He cuts you off, frustration lacing his voice. You release a slow sigh and allow your body to relax into his, laying your head in his neck. He rubs his left hand up your arm until it rests on your shoulder and rest his right hand on your belly. His breathing becomes calm and you wonder if he is falling asleep. After a few moments you nuzzle into his neck causing him to moan. Now knowing he isn’t asleep; you decide to inquire on his evening. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” You whisper. “No.” He clips. You raise your body up off his and straddle him instead, taking his face in your hands. “I am big shit in this city. My father knows so many people. I don’t know what happened or why your dad did this but I swear I can make sure he never touches you again.” He licks over his swollen lip, smirking at you. “Who said it was my father? Besides, I don’t need you to protect me but it makes me feel good to know you would call your daddy if ever I needed saving.” “I’m fucking serious Yoongi. I don’t ever want to see you like this again.” He pushes his back up away from the tub and pulls you into a gentle kiss. You melt into his soft lips, opening your mouth for his warm tongue to tease masterfully against yours. You moan into the kiss, nibbling at his top lip while reaching down to stroke his growing erection as it presses against your belly. “Make me cum brat.” He pants into your mouth.

Min:

Yoongi can’t stop kissing her, her soft mouth on his, driving him wild with need. His heart ached at her valiant attempt to provide him comfort, as if she could really protect him. No one could save him now. He can’t help but let a moan escape when she gently begins to pump his cock beneath the water. A flush of relief washes over his body. “I missed you too.” He admits, hitching his hips up as she gently glides his tip through her folds with every up stroke. He breaks free from her mouth and peppers kisses down her neck until he meets her collar bone, kissing and suckling at her exposed skin leaving a perfect purple mark on her flesh. He needed to claim her, show everyone she belongs to him. She shoves him back against the porcelain tub and begins to pump him faster using just her right hand in long languid strokes, being sure to run her thumb against the flesh on the underside of his sensitive tip. “God, how I’ve missed this cock.” She mewls, using her upper arms to squeeze her tits together. Yoongi takes one of her perky mounds in his hand as she continues her steady pace, dropping her free left hand from Yoongi’s chest down to massage his balls. Yoongi throws his head back against the tub in pure bliss as his body catches fire. “Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” He pants as he feels his climax rise up. “I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, calling out her name as long white strands shoot out into the bath water. He is completely out of breath and still hard. He looks up into her lustful eyes, wanting so much more of her. “You really didn’t fuck him?” Yoongi asks, he can’t help himself. He needed to know the truth. She shakes her head frantically. “No. I swear it. I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” Yoongi’s heart flips at her confession. He knew he had no right to ask her, having fooled around with Lisa, albeit it was his attempt at retaliation for what he assumed happened. “Couldn’t stop thinking of me huh?” “No, you’re all I want. I need you, so bad. Please.” She whines. Yoongi’s cock twitches at her desperation for him. “Please what?” He moans, grabbing one of her full tits in his hand again and squeezing. “Please, sir.” He plants a kiss on her lips before they step out of the tub. She grabs a towel, attempting to hand it to him. He tilts his head to the side and instead drop to his knees in front of her. “Yoongi.” Is all that escapes her lips before he yanks her by the ass and brings her to his face. He slowly licks a long trail through her folds from her taint to her clit. Her moans echo through the bathroom while Yoongi buries his face deeper within her sopping cunt.

He places her right leg onto his shoulder while resting her plump ass on the side of the tub. He begins to suck on her full folds slowly, loving the soft mewls that escape her as he carefully takes each one between his lips. He swears she’s the most delicious woman he’s ever tasted. She bucks forward with a gasp as he wraps his mouth around her clit, sucking on it hard, becoming intoxicated on her scent and taste. She whines lustfully as he releases her sweet bud, moving down to her entrance. He looks up at her to catch a glimpse of her biting her lower lip as he begins to slowly fuck her with his tongue. He dives in and out of her, lapping up her arousal with lurid slurps and moans. She tangles her hands in his hair, alternating between calling his name out and cursing. When he feels her juices trail along his chin he moves back up to her swollen bud, taking it into his mouth again, sucking and licking in circles, driving her wild. He feels her inner thighs tremble and he knows she’s close. He lifts his right hand up and moistens two fingers with her lust before sliding them into her soaked cunt. She cries out from deep in her throat and Yoongi can feel his cock get harder than it’s ever been. “Whose needy cunt is this?” He asks between laps. “Fuck, it’s yours, it’s fucking yours sir.” She says out of breath, grinding into Yoongi’s face. He curls his two fingers up rubbing against that sweet spongy spot deep inside of her, and he can feel her walls begin to clench around him. “Say my name.” He pants. “Yoongi, fuck, Yoongi, I, I’m, fuck……Ahh.” She shrieks into the room. Her walls quivering, legs shaking, and breathing labored as Yoongi continues to lap at her cunt, riding her through her climax. “I can’t, it’s too much.” She gasps her body trembling. “Who’s pussy is this?” Yoongi asks continuing to lick at her overstimulated bud. “Yours, God, please, it’s yours.” Yoongi finally releases her, pleased with her response. He moves his mouth down, trailing kisses along her inner thigh before placing another purple mark, this time on the center of her inner thigh. She sucks in a breath watching Yoongi work. He slowly removes his mouth from her thigh, observing his handy work with a smile, and slowly stands, pulling her into a kiss. She runs her hand over his cock and he hums in approval. “I want you inside me.” She slowly strokes him, pushing him towards her bed. “I need to feel you deep inside me.”

Y/N:

He smirks suggestively as you push him closer and closer to your bed. He yanks you by your neck into another desperate kiss once you arrive at your destination. You get lost in this kiss however, it’s tender and gentle, so unlike him. He spins you slowly, switching places with you. He takes your bottom in his large hands, lifting you onto the edge of the bed. He trails kisses down your neck, taking your erect nipple into his mouth, hungrily sucking and nibbling on it. He releases with a quiet pop and gently guides you to lay on your back while he aligns himself between your thighs. He drags your body down by the backs of your thighs towards his drooling tip, wrapping your legs around his waist. “My God, Yoongi.” You cry out feeling his swollen head glide between your folds. “Please don’t tease me.” You mewl, pushing your hips forward. He slowly pushes into your entrance. His mouth falls open and your eyes roll back as he slowly adds inch by inch of his cock into you. “So, fucking, tight.” He growls, taking a moment once he bottoms out to allow you to adjust to his size. You buck your hips impatiently and he nods pulling out all the way to his tip and slowly entering you again, stretching you in the best way possible. “No one fills me like you!” You praise. Yoongi hums and begins to slide in and out of you at a methodically slow pace, his mouth wide, you can see he’s savoring every stroke. Still, you can’t help but lift your hips to meet his torturous thrusts. He grasps your waist to still you and continues to roll his hips upwards, releasing a sobbed moan into your room. “You feel so good Yoongi, please, fuck me harder, faster.” He smiles seductively, taking you by the back of the neck and pulling you up so you’re face to face with him, his cock pushing further inside you. “I don’t want to fuck you tonight,” He whispers into your ear, extending his hands down your back, and taking your ass into his large palms. He lifts you off the bed slightly and begins to glide you across his cock, still keeping with his original rhythm. You whimper into his neck feeling your core tighten as your clit rubs against his shaft. “God, Yoongi, feels so good.” You pant into his neck. Yoongi lifts you fully and climbs atop the bed, lying you on your back once more and repositioning himself between your thighs. He takes you in a full deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours. “Ready to cum baby?” He moans softly, grinding against your G-spot. “Yes please sir. I want to cum all over your cock.” You mewl as he begins to hasten his pace, dropping a hand between you both to twirl circles against your clit. He drives himself harder into you, his tip pressing into your cervix. Your core ignites, as you feel that coil deep inside you tighten and suddenly explode. “Fuck Yoongi, I’m cumming.” You cry out as white-hot waves crash over you causing you to clench your pussy tightly around Yoongi. He releases an animal like moan into your neck, his pace becoming sloppy. ���Fuck! Me too baby.” Yoongi cries out and you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, filling you to the brim with his hot seed. He continues to thrust through his climax, taking your mouth into a ravenous kiss. You moan lustfully, feeling the slickness of his cum dripping down from your cunt and onto your sheets. He releases you from the kiss, out of breath and looks you over, making no attempt to remove himself from inside you. He presses his forehead against yours and you glide your hands down his back. “Yoongi,” You whisper, running your hands back up his back and into his hair. “Yeah baby?” “I love you.” Your voice cracks at your confession.

MIN:

Yoongi sighs deeply, planting a kiss on her cheek. He wanted so badly to say those words back to her. He felt his heart swell as she looked at him longingly, seeing the truth of those words in her eyes. He swallows down the large lump in his throat and slowly pulls out of her. He makes his way into the bathroom to grab a towel. He brings it back to her and begins to clean her up. He can feel the tension fill the room as she stares at him nervously. “Yoongi.” She whispers. “I should go.” He declares once she’s clean. “Please don’t. I shouldn’t have said that. I meant what I said about wanting to be here for you. I’m sorry.” “No, don’t be sorry. It’s just, I’m just, I’m fucked up Y/N. I’m no good. You shouldn’t want to love me.” She pulls Yoongi towards her until he is forced to stretch his body out on the bed. She cuddles into his side, head resting on his chest, Yoongi feels so at ease with her so why on earth couldn’t he just say the words? After the blow-up with his father, Yoongi drank himself stupid until his head was running a million miles a minute. It wasn’t until you came across his mind that he felt his thoughts ease and he decided he needed to see you. How long had it been, he wondered? Two months? Two months too long. A soft kiss on his bruised ribs jolts him from his head. “Penny for your thoughts.” She lifts her head to look up at him. He strokes her cheek gently, taking in her beauty. “You are mine and I am yours. Do you remember me saying that to you?” He asks, reminding her of the first thing he ever told her the first time they were intimate. She nods. “I meant those words then and I mean them more now. I can’t be without you and I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you. Seeing you kiss your ex brought up so many different emotions. Betrayal is the one that initially comes to mind. Then, meeting him and hearing him say you’d been together. I wanted to kill him over just the thought that he had his hands all over you,” Yoongi slides his body up so he’s resting his back on her headboard and she has no choice but to sit up and face him, “It may seem odd to you based off of my demeanor but I don’t cheat. If I make a commitment to you then I keep that commitment but if you burn me, I can promise, you and I are done. You burned me Y/N and even still I’m having a hard time forgetting you. I think that’s the worst part of this.” Yoongi looks her over, she’s deep in thought. “So, how do we move past this? I want to make it better.” She says. “I need you to be honest with me, always. Do I have anything to worry about with your ex? Is there any truth to what he’s saying? I mean why would you kiss him in the first place?” Yoongi had so many questions, questions he could see were making Y/N uncomfortable.

She shifted her body so she was closer to his. “I want to say that I needed some sort of closure but that would be a lie. I’m just stupid. I am so used to fucking up and still getting my way that it didn’t occur to me that my actions would affect you. The truth is no one has ever been able to make me feel and think about anyone other than myself until I met you. Now I find myself wanting nothing more than to be around you and please you. I fucked up Yoongi and I am so fucking sorry. I don’t want to lose you. I swear nothing more than that kiss happened and nothing will ever happen again. I am yours and you are mine.” She shrugs. Yoongi furrows his brow, searching her face for any doubt. “Come here.” Yoongi says as he leans in and plants a kiss on her lips. She practically melts into him. “Don’t betray me again brat.” He whispers into her lips. “I won’t. I promise.” Yoongi claims her mouth again, this time slower, filling it with his emotions. She moans softly. Once they part, he looks over her face, his heart racing, nerves taking over. “I love you too.” He confesses, feeling a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

Y/N:

You wake up feeling the best you ever have, rolling over to find a snoozing Yoongi beside you. After his confession last night, you both kissed until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. “Yoongi, I love you.” You whisper. Yoongi mumbles whilst rolling onto his back, sighing deeply, clearly still asleep. You kiss his cheek gently and climb out of bed, checking your phone. You find a message from your BFF. “On the way with your ride.” “Shit.” You whisper, checking the time to see an hour has passed since she sent the message. You hop in the shower and dress in shorts and an oversized sweater, pondering on how you can convince Yoongi to stay in all day with you. When you emerge from the bathroom you find Yoongi still fast asleep. You smile to yourself at the thought of him being this comfortable with you. Suddenly the doorbell rings and you jump up at the sound. Yoongi only sighs again. He must be extremely exhausted after the night he had; you think to yourself. You head out of your room to answer the door. “Hey bitch!” Your best friend smiles brightly at you. “Hey yourself.” You whisper. She pushes past you and you quickly trail behind her. “Here are your car keys, I can’t stay too long Joon is outside waiting to drive me home. How was your night? I know you hate the rain.” She looks you over suspiciously. “It was good. Quiet you know. How about yours? Did you and Joon…you know?” You raise and shimmy your brows at her. She giggles nervously before nodding hard. “Holy shit girl! About damn time! How was it?” “Amazing! He’s gently and kind and strong if you know what I mean.” She laughs. “Ew, TMI!” “Well anyway, it was a great night. I’m sorry our girls night got interrupted though. I’ll make it up to you another night. How about later?” “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow, I might just stay in today.” “Girl, you cannot lay in bed crying over this Min boy nonsense. Besides, he wouldn’t let Jimin eating you out bother him if he knew you didn’t even cum. He would probably be overjoyed at the thought. Men and their egos you know.” She rolls her eyes as you both hear rustling from down the hall. Your heart drops. “What was that? Is your dad home?” She covers her mouth nervously. You swallow hard but try to laugh it off. “No, he’s gone till next week. I forgot to put some clothes away after I washed them, they probably toppled over. Anyways, you should get going before Joon freaks.” She nods in response and pulls you into a hug. “Call me later if your bored.” “I will.” You walk her out and head nervously back to your room.

As you enter you find the bed empty, “Yoongi.“ You call out before being pulled by the hair into a hard kiss. Yoongi shoves you back towards your vanity, lifting you off your feet and sitting you atop it. You moan into his mouth, your hands finding their home in his hair whilst his hands grip your hips. He drags your aching core up and down his growing erection, moving his wet open mouth kisses down your jaw and neck. “Fuck Yoongi, I want you so bad.” You whine, raking your nails down his back. He bites down hard into the soft flesh of your neck causing you to cry out, your cotton thong sticking to your moist cunt. You reach down and rub at his cock through his briefs. “I want to suck your cock.” You whisper in his ear. Yoongi says nothing, he just grabs a fist full of your hair again and yanks your head back, suckling at your exposed neck. You pant and moan loudly as Yoongi slides his hand up your short leg and rubs at your clothed center. “Please don’t tease me.” You beg, hitching your hips forward. Yoongi just smirks, still gripping your hair tightly. He carefully slides your cotton barrier to the side and glides his middle finger between your slit, coating it in your juices. He brings it up to his lips but before he inserts it in his mouth, he looks over to you lustfully. “Open.” You pant desperately and do as your told. He waste no time shoving his soaked finger in your mouth, allowing you time to suck your own juices from his finger. He grips your face with his remaining free fingers, causing the one in your mouth to glide dangerously close to the back of your throat. You take a deep breath to calm your gag reflex. He releases his grip on your hair and pulls your face towards him, “See how sweet your cunt taste? It’s no wonder all the men in this shit city want a piece of you.” Your eyes go wide and your heart races as you wonder if he overheard your conversation with your BFF. He pulls his hand from your face. “Yoongi…” You start before he quickly shoves two fingers inside your sopping pussy. You gasp at the feeling of pleasure that courses through you and immediately forget what it was you wanted to say. Yoongi curls his fingers inside you, stealing the moan that escapes your mouth with an aggressive kiss. He expertly fucks your cunt, his fingers moving in and out of you at a toe curling speed. The lurid sounds of your moisture and moans filling the room. “My greedy little brat loves getting finger fucked huh?” Yoongi grunts, wrapping his free hand around your throat. “Yes, fuck, God. Yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes sir! Fuck, yes sir! I fucking love it!” You practically shriek as he applies pressure to your clit with his thumb and you can’t help but grind your hips up with every circular movement he makes on your sensitive bud. You feel your core burn as your climax fast approaches. Yoongi clamps down on your neck causing you to grab his wrist as you pant desperately with your rising orgasm. He stares at you, mouth opened, with lust filled eyes, watching your every reaction. You whimper as your walls clench, “Fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum.” Yoongi smirks, pulling his fingers from you abruptly. You try to raise your body up in protest but he keeps you down with his tighten grip on your throat. He yanks your short leg and thong to the side again shoving his cock into you without warning. You cry out at the burning mix of pain and pleasure.

He yanks you forward into a painful kiss, your teeth clashing with his. You attempt to speak but Yoongi’s forceful thrust keep your head too dizzy to forms coherent sentences. “Does my brat like getting fucked stupid?” Yoongi growls between clenched teeth into your ear. You can only mewl and whimper, choosing to show your satisfaction by thrusting your hips forward to meet his. “I’m gonna cum into this needy cunt.” He whispers into your ear and you nod frantically, dying to feel his cock twitch inside you. You lower your hand from his wrist to attempt to rub your swollen clit but Yoongi uses his free hand to stop you, crying out as he fills your cunt with his hot seed. You clench around him, whining and thrusting trying to build up your high while Yoongi rides out his. “Don’t stop.” You plead. Yoongi releases your hand and you immediately drop it down to your needy bud, rubbing frantically as Yoongi continues to thrust into you. “Yes, fuck yes, don’t stop, I’m right there. God.” You cry out as your walls tremble. Yoongi kisses you hard and yanks his member from your aching walls. “What the fuck!?” You shout, swatting at Yoongi who steps back and begins dressing. “Tell me brat, is that what it felt like when Jimin left you wanting? Or do I do it better?” Your jaw drops as you watch him finish dressing. “Yoongi, you don’t understand.” You begin, sliding off the vanity. “That you’re a liar? No, I get that part. See, Y/N, I’ve been surrounded by liars my whole life. It’s no surprise to me that you’re one too.” “I didn’t want to hurt you Yoongi. It was insignificant.” He huffs at your comment, standing as he finishes lacing his shoes. “Am I insignificant as well?” He cocks his head to the side. “No, I love you. Jimin means nothing to me.” He nods and moves towards the door. Your heart seizes at the sight. “Please don’t leave!” You yank at his arm. He pulls his arm from your grasp. “On your knees brat!” He shouts and immediately you do as your told, tears streaming down your face. “Yoongi, please don’t leave like this. I’m sorry.” He walks over to you, pulling your face up by your chin. “My gorgeous brat,” He whispers, rubbing your wet cheek, allowing you to lean into his hand, “Keep testing and pushing my love because in the end, you will submit. I’ve made the mistake in thinking I could let my guard down but that was just me being foolish. I know what my spoiled little brat needs.” He grips your hair and yanks your head back, rubbing his lips across yours. “She needs to be punished. Craves it even.” He whispers before kissing you deeply. “Yoongi please, I’m sorry, I love you.” “I will forgive you for lying in exactly two weeks’ time. Let’s call it a cooling period. A time for reflection. Until then, you’ll be a good girl for me, wont you?” He looks over you lovingly and you can’t help but nod in response, wanting so bad to please him. He kisses you again. “See you then brat. You can stand when I’m gone.” He releases you and walks out, slamming the door behind him. You cup your aching cunt and drop to the floor, groaning in defeat, knowing Yoongi was right. You would always push but in the end you would always submit.

[brittababbles]

Best Medicine

Agent Whiskey x female nurse!reader

Something deeply self-indulgent that I accidentally came up with chatting with @thick-dick-din-daddy-djarin 

Warnings: Mentions of blood, physical trauma, medical situations, angst (is that a warning?), no edits to speak of, me projecting like crazy

“EMS Unit 437 calling Mercy General”

Hour nine of twelve has rather numbed you to the sound of the EMS line, but you glance up from your charting anyway to meet the eyes of your charge nurse over the desk. Lance sighs and shoves his blond-grey hair out of his eyes before reaching for the awkward walkie-talkie like unit.

“Mercy General calling EMS 437. What do you got?” Lance says into the walkie, his voice the practiced detachment of a veteran ER nurse.

“40-year-old male, apparent GSW to the right chest. BP 90 over 62, pulse 132, pulse ox 90 on f15 liters. He’s alert and oriented times 3. We got an 18 gauge in his left AC and he’s had 200 milliliters normal saline and 40 micrograms fentanyl IV push. Pretty shocky… ETA 7 minutes to your location.”

Lance pauses for a second to absorb this information, then gives a single nod before responding

“Copy, EMS 437. See you soon”

You watch your leader-of-the-day impassively, the unspoken question lingering in your gaze. Lance consults his computer screen before answering.

“Trauma 3,” he says.

It’s not your assigned trauma room, but you’re at an impasse at the moment. You have three patients, and all of them are stable and waiting – one for social work to clear his discharge, one for CT to pick her up, and one for a room to open up on the floors above you.

With a sigh, you exit from your computer screen before heading to trauma room three to check that the room is prepped for a trauma. It’s relatively mindless work, and the last nurse had done a decent job cleaning the room up. You lay out leads for cardiac monitoring and grab a blood collection kit, then check the supplies are at least roughly in order. Seven minutes isn’t a long time to get ready, but you’ve given the room a once over by the time the ambulance bay doors burst open.

There’s a flurry of activities and voices as the paramedics roll in their stretcher. One is calling report over top of the patient to Danielle, the nurse who’s room you’ve just stocked. Two more are ministering to the patient himself. You watch them head toward you, bracing yourself for the adrenaline rush and mentally running through everything that will need to happen in the next few minutes. You stand on tiptoe, hoping to catch a glance at the patient’s chest, to see what you’re getting into.

Everything in your brain freezes. Every synapse stops. You swear you go deaf and wobble slightly from the impact of dizzying recognition.

Oh god.

Jack.

Evidently time does not stop, but you’re unaware of the intervening seconds before the gurney carrying your husband is in front of you. Doctor Thompson pushes past you to reach the patient, shouting orders to Danielle and Lance that you can’t understand. Instead of diving into your work, you take two shaky steps backward and find yourself leaning hard against the wall.

Lance is calling your name. His expression is obviously frustrated, but immediately switches to confusion at your stricken appearance. He glances at Danielle and jerks his head toward you. His hands are covered in crimson. You’re dimly aware that it’s blood. Jack’s blood. You squeeze your eyes shut at the exact instant Danielle’s hands impact your shoulders.

“[Y/N}? What’s wrong?” she asks.

She uses her nursing voice. Firm, matter of fact, slightly higher in pitch than her normal voice. You must look terrible.

“Th-that’s my husband,” you manage to gasp.

 He’s still conscious. That’s the crazy thing. There’s so much blood everywhere; on his clothes, on the sheets, on the floor. You approach him cautiously, the way you would a wild deer, and carefully touch the IV Lance had shoved into the back of Jack’s hand.

The paramedics had given him some very strong pain medication in the field, and Lance had doubled it up with IV dilaudid on Dr. Thompson’s orders. Those beautiful brown eyes are rather glassy, but wide open and so alive. He grins rather lopsidedly under the oxygen mask as you approach.

“I always knew angels were real,” he slurs.

His voice cracks as he speaks, and it’s so soft that it’s hard to hear around the sound of the monitors and the oxygen and the IV pumps. But you catch every word and manage a weak smile.

“Hi, baby,” you say. Your voice shakes, too.

He squeezes your hand in response. His grip is stronger than you expected. A good sign, you tell yourself.

Danielle hadn’t hesitated once you’d managed to choke out your confession. She shoved you straight out of the trauma room, directly into the waiting arms of the social worker, Nancy. She’d heard, or maybe just observed and put together, enough to understand your abrupt ejection from the room, and used her considerable talents to calm you down enough to speak with registration. To get Jack’s details down. His name, such that could be provided, address, date of birth. His blood type. The fact that he reacted badly to onions and bee stings. That you were his wife. You rattled off the information automatically, the majority of your mind back in the trauma room with your bleeding husband.

You’d staggered back to the door of the trauma room just as the doctor was leaving. She pulled you aside and explained what they’d found. You nodded along, grasping clinically what she was saying but utterly failing to feel any emotion at all. By the time she had finished explaining what the next few hours would look like, Danielle had hung a unit of platelets, attached to the IV in Jack’s arm. On his other side, Lance was adjusting the drip rate on a bag of fluids, the tubing on these leading to the IV in your husband’s hand. A full set of vital signs flashed from the monitor above his head, and you stared unfeelingly at these, before glancing down at your husband. He was awake, and he was staring straight at you.

Now, you stood at his bedside, brushing silky strands of dark hair from his sweat-sticky forehead.

“You have what’s called a traumatic hemothorax, Jack,” you coo.

The expression in his eyes suggests vague confusion, and you mentally steady yourself before continuing.

“It means there’s blood in the space around your lungs. It’s gonna get hard to breathe if they don’t go in and fix it, baby,” your voice shakes, and you admonish yourself.

Some nurse you are.

Jack glances around the room, seemingly asking why he was still here if he needed fixed. You twist your face into a watery smile, trying very hard not to cry.

“You lost a lot of blood,” you tell him softly, winding your fingers into his, “It’s not safe to put you under anesthesia yet. We need you to finish getting these fluids and platelets, so it’s safe to operate.”

He absorbs all of this with the unshakable calmness that only a Stateman agent could muster at a time like this. You find yourself wishing for half of his poise to get your through the next several hours.

“What about you?” he croaks unexpectedly.

You carefully lift his hand and pressed a feather-light kiss to his fingers, which feel unusually cold against your lips.

“I’m staying right here until they take you to surgery.”

He has the audacity to look surprised.

“Danielle’s taking my patients. I’ll have to get her a gift basket,” you say.

This earns you a smirk, which fades quickly when he notices the tears you’ve failed to stop from spilling down your cheeks. He lifts your entwined hands and brushes his index finger against your face, wiping the track your tears have left, and fixes you with an intense stare.

“[Y/N],” he whispers, “I’m not leaving you today, darlin’.”

Your only response is to kiss the back of his hand more firmly than more before pressing your face into his skin, squeezing your eyes shut. You stay like this for a long time, listening hard to the too-fast beep of the heart monitor overhead.

 At some point in the last two hours, you’d realized hospitals are cold.

You’d managed to trot behind the transport team as the whisked your husband toward the surgery suites. He tries to look up at you, but the angle was too extreme for his neck to manage under the circumstances. Jack raised a hand rather weakly to wave as you reached the edge of your access to the department, and you watched him disappear from your sight.

There were three people in the surgical waiting area, a middle-aged couple and an older lady, and all of them stood up when you walked in. It took you a moment to realize that they were reacting to your scrubs, not realizing you didn’t work on this floor.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to say, “I’m not a surgical nurse.”

You’d sat down, abruptly exhausted, in one of the thinly padded chairs, working hard to ignore the sound of the national news from the TV in the corner. The middle aged woman broke away from her partner and sidled over to you.

“Are you a nurse?” she asks

“Yes,” you said dully, “but I don’t work on this floor.”

That didn’t seem to mean much to the woman. She leaned toward you slightly, her eyes wide and somewhat bloodshot.

“My daughter’s in surgery. The doctor said something about a brain hemorrhage. Do you know about that?”

Sure, you know about brain hemorrhages; if only you could access the parts of your brain that knows things. Normally you would recognize the obvious pain in this woman’s voice, but right now the only emotion you feel capable of producing is exhaustion. You turned to the woman, blinking slowly. She watched, her expression expectant and a little bit desperate.

“I’m sorry,” your words came out sounding like a question, “I don’t know anything about that.”

She stared at you, her face utterly blank, for a moment, before getting up and returning to her husband’s side. You return your own stare to the carpet and utterly lose track of time.

At some point, the room becomes to small and you get to your feet and walk out into the hallway. Nobody tries to stop you. You round a corner and lean against the wall, feeling your knees starting to slowly give out. You slide gracelessly down the wall and curl yourself into a ball. The wall opposite you is very white. You stare at it endlessly.

“Mrs. Daniels?”

You have no idea how much time has passed while you sat on the floor. A sturdy looking middle aged man in green scrubs is standing over you. He offers you a hand and pulls you upright, before introducing himself as Jack’s surgeon.

“You’re a nurse downstairs, right?” he asks.

You nod, trying to remember what that even means.

He explains to you that Jack’s surgery went well. The damage was repairable. He’s in recovery now and will probably spend a couple days in the ICU before transferring to a nursing unit. He’s not out of the woods quite yet, but the surgeon seems optimistic.

“Your husband’s a strong man,” he tells you.

If he only knew the half of it.

 Jack’s awake, if mostly incoherent, when you reach his bedside in the ICU.

“S’my angel girl,” he tells the nurse as she hooks him up to the monitor.

She glances at you and smiles.

To say your husband is an affectionate drunk is an understatement. He repeatedly tells you how pretty you are, how lucky he is. He even makes a couple lewd comments that normally would have you blushing, but at this point you’re too happy that he’s alive to feel anything but gratitude at the sound of his voice.  He coos at you, reaching out to stroke your messy hair clumsily. You lean lightly into his touch.

You spend the next two days holding vigil at his bedside, watching the vitals monitor and gently questioning the nurses. Once Jack’s out from the influence of the anesthesia, he begins to get restless.

“I’m not in pain if you’re here, beautiful,” he insists, the afternoon following his surgery.

The nurse is standing by, vial of pain medication in hand, and she glances at you for confirmation. You, in turn, look to the monitor.

Blood pressure: 155 over 97. Pulse: 102.

You look at your husband, eyes widening.

“Yes, you are, Jack,” you say softly, “They cut your chest open. You almost died. You’re allowed to be in pain.”

He stares back stubbornly.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, brushing your fingers across his cheek, “Don’t be brave for me.”

He remains unreadable for a beat, then glances at the nurse and gives a curt nod.

 The floor nurses adore Jack.

Of course they do. He’s charming, sweet, considerate, and insists on doing virtually everything for himself. He doesn’t beg for medications during busy times, and rapidly memorizes the nursing rotation to avoid being what he terms “a pest” at shift change. His only complaint is that the bed isn’t big enough to share with you, that his IV lines prevent him from holding you close. He smiles brightly at everyone who walks into the room and introduces you to every new face as “my lovely wife, best nurse in this here hospital”. The head of pulmonology visits early on Jack’s fourth day in the hospital and seems surprised by your credentials.

“You work here?” he asks

“ER,” you respond sleepily.

“Well, at least he’ll be in good hands when he goes home,” he doctor says.

Jack visibly brightens at the word “home”.

“Am I going home today, doc?” he asks eagerly.

“Not today, son,” the old doctor says with a sigh, “maybe tomorrow.”

Jack’s shoulders slump slightly, and he tries not to pout too obviously.

When the day finally arrives, you wait patiently in your chair as Jack paces the room. He’s doing remarkably well for a man who’d nearly died less than a week ago. Well enough for his team of doctors and therapists to sign off on his discharge. Unfortunately, Jack is less realistic about the speed of the discharge process than you are, and vents some of his frustrations by energetically pacing the floor.

“Don’t tire yourself out, baby,” you murmur.

You insist on removing his IVs yourself. Jack watches with fascination bordering on morbidity as you carefully slip the slender catheter from his arm and press a square of gauze to the bubble of blood that blossoms from the site. His eyes gleam with something like pride as he looks up and watches you cross the room to dispose of the used IV in the sharps container.

“You’re amazing,” he says, cupping the back of your head with his now-free hand and pulling you in to kiss you.

His nurse tries to usher him into a wheelchair, and as expected, Jack refuses wholeheartedly. He walks the length of the hall and reaches the main nursing station before his knees wobble and he leans against the counter. Panicked, you grasp at his side. He gives you a small smile.

“Maybe I will take the chariot,” he says.

Once the nurse has Jack loaded into the car, she turns to you with a smile.

“I’m glad he’s in good hands,” she says.

You can only nod, hoping she’s right.

 Jack watches the trees pass as you drive home. He’s unusually quiet, seemingly lost in thought. You focus on the road and try to squash any lingering self-doubts. Abruptly your feel his hand rest on yours over the gearshift. His skin is warm again. You glance his way to see him watching you, his expression thoughtful.

“I’m not worried, baby girl,” he says.

“Hmm?” you feign innocence.

Jack always knows when you’re worried. It’s almost a sixth sense. He can pick up the tension in your shoulders and the concern in your brow at half a glance and ten paces. You wish you were half as perceptive, but you’d settle for half as brave.

The car eases to a stop at a red light and you turn to look at him fully. He’s smiling warmly, his eyes bright with life and love and you feel like your heart might explode just looking at him.

“You’ll take care of me,” he says softly.

You smile, lean in, and press your lips softly to his.

“Always,” you promise.

[petri808]

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

[choccos-aaart]

Close enough to 10 mintues of “Ms Axel is a Goon”

Screw it. I'm posting it here, too. *NOTE: This is 100% fictitious and not going to happen*

Final Assignment Script Writing, Winter School 2021 ONE-PAGE PITCH

TITLE: Ms Axel is a Goon

GENRE: Action, comedy, sci-fi, family

LOGLINE: In the humid city of Dasmus, Mei Axel is a former goon who's just escaped captivity. Since her escape, she's been trying to better her life with her new found passion for music, but she quickly learns that the entire country wants to trade her name and face for a price.

FORMAT: Full-length animated film

MAJOR AND RECURRING CHARACTERS: Mei Axel – A wanted fugitive. Mid 20s. Despite her physical competence, she's mostly a foolish, plucky girl who steals a guitar one day.

Alicia Vonarb – CEO of a liquor company. Late 30s. The last boss to hire Axel to do her sneaky business work. Confident and vain, but does everything in spite of her mother. Wants to capture Axel because she doesn't want to get ratted out.

Kannie Orma – An old gadgeteer friend of Axel’s. Mid 50s. Also a “lame uncle” sort of figure to Axel. Their friendship must remain secret because his work is also involved with Vonarb.

O. Miho - Axel’s former coworker from when she was working for Vonarb. Early 30s. His current assignment is to capture Axel. Smug and thinks he's funny.

K. Claymont – Axel’s other former coworker. Late 20s. Works together with Miho. A kind man, but only most of the time.

SYNOPSIS: Mei Axel. She's a goon that's been caught and jailed. Eventually enough, she makes a successful escape and ventures outside. Not much happens afterwards other than stealing a guitar, and once discovering that she's got a passion for music, now she aims to live up that dream. But while attempting to live her new life, her face still reads as an incompetent menace to her former friends and foes, as well as to the majority of the country – they all seem to want to trade in her face for a cash reward. Now, aside from escaping the hands of everyone that wants to hand her over to the government, it is now up to Ms Axel to figure out how she is going to be able to pursue her new life goal that heavily conflicts with her current place among her people. This first follows the story of a wanted fugitive who sets off on a quest for redemption which, unfortunately, never works out. The story ends when Axel eventually escapes the country. She finally acknowledges that she can never truly change the way she's perceived, as well as never fully experience the life that she wants. However, she still performs under a low profile, happily living a drifter's lifestyle.

RATIONALE: This is a story about someone whose wrongdoings and nurture had shaped the way that others view them. Our protagonist is Mei Axel who had been built up to become a significantly infamous member of society, but once discovering a part of herself that showed her potential in a more respected position, being a musician, she starts wanting to better herself. A problem with this scenario is that her past actions prevent her from fully achieving that dream. She can relate to audiences who want to change aspects of their past, particularly their mistakes or the wrong ways they've been brought up, but can't.

MARKET: Children ranging from 11-16, particularly those that are interested in scenes that involve action-packed chases and fighting between individuals. The [film] will present itself through retro-futuristic aesthetics in its city setting. Rock is also a prevalent music genre for the soundtrack, which may interest audiences who particularly like the genre.

The Script

EXT. BUILDINGTOP – NIGHT

Axel checks out the guitar from every angle with a grin, having a feel of its neck, strings and body. She sits it on her lap as if to play it.

AXEL

Oh... I hope those lessons never went to waste...

She wobbly plays a C major scale while slightly wincing through every second. She runs over the same scale again, but this time it flows a bit more smoothly. She smiles a little.

MONTAGE OF AXEL PRACTISING GUITAR

- Axel goes over the same scale a couple of times and with every run, her playing gets smoother.

- She then moves on to a different key and practises that scale

- She then moves on to another key and practises that scale

- She plays some chords now, beginning with the I IV V I progression

MONTAGE END

Axel continues strumming. A light turns on from a nearby building.

DWELLER

Who is playing that garbage?!

Axel stops strumming. Silence.

AXEL

(Breathes in)

I'll get the hang of it.

She slings the guitar over her back and runs into the shadows. Eventually, she disappears into the dark.

EXT. MARKETPLACE – DAY

A view of a cranny on a roof between two walls. Axel sleeps there resting her guitar on her lap. Waking up, she yawns and then lazily sits up.

CUT TO:

A view of the market grounds. Axel smugly and excitedly, yet discreetly scurries out of an alley between a bakery and a liquor store, with a paper doughnut bag in one hand and a small bottle of liquor in the other.

She sits by a cafe playing some instrumental reggae rock music through a speaker. Axel hums along to the melody of the soundtrack while tipsily bouncing her finger to the beat. She then quickly strums a few chords for a brief moment, all which clash with the song's key signature, until right on the chorus, where she strums a chord that matches the root note of the song.

AXEL

Ooh, it's a G song. God, why do they always gotta be G songs? (Giggles)

She strums along with the music, landing every chord. Her smile grows and she gradually plays more confidently. She whistles the melody, then proceeds to hum. A TEENAGE BOY chucks a coin in front of her. Axel looks up and grins. She finger guns at him as he skids away to his friends, laughing. Axel stands up and plays more purposefully. The background starts dimming down.

DAYDREAM

Soon the marketplace around her blends into a stage. An abstractly drawn audience watches her perform and cheer her on. The chorus section of the song finishes.

AXEL

(Laughs)

I'm going to be known! I'll make myself the talk of the town! Everybody's gonna love me!

Axel starts strumming along to the background music again. Suddenly, a MAN with a large, muscular build grabs onto her shoulder.

END DAYDREAM

The stage fades back into the marketplace. Axel is still strumming.

MAN

You got that last part wrong.

AXEL

And who are you?

The man bats Axel with a club.

OVER BLACK.

SFX: Walking footsteps.

EXT. DESOLATE CITY AREA – DAY

In an alleyway, the man carries a bag containing Axel's body, also with Axel's guitar strapped around his back. After some time, Axel can be seen moving inside of the bag.

MAN

Huh? Hey. You keep still down there, would you?

Axel still moves inside of the bag.

MAN (CONT'D)

Look, this is goin'a be a long walk. That means you better cooperate with me, you hear that, Girlie? (Pause) You don't want to make me hurt you, now--

Axel falls out of a hole the bag with a shank in one hand and one of her boots on the other.

MAN

What the?!

The man looks behind himself while Axel stands up in front of him, holding her boot in both hands. She sends a finishing blow at the back of man's head and he falls to the floor. Axel cautiously looks at the man for a brief moment.

The man lies motionlessly on the ground. Axel drops her boot and fixes her shank back inside her pocket, then dusts off her hands before then squatting down next to him.

AXEL

Gosh, they really never hired me for nothing, huh... But I ain't into that stuff anymore. Say, can I have my guitar back?

The man does not respond. Axel lifts one of the man's eyelids and learns that he's out cold. Axel sighs with a slight chuckle. She lifts up the man and, with a struggle, unstraps the guitar from his body, before eventually slinging it over her own. Once fitting her boot back on, she then stands up and slowly walks over to the edge of the alley, whistling a chipper tune – the same melody she was playing earlier - on her way there. At the edge of the alleyway, her eyes look up. Then they widen.

INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER

containing Axel's mugshot and in large writing, "WANTED". Below is a list of details including Axel's height, approximate age, gender, race and the time and location of where she was last seen, “18:50, Southwest of Dasmus City”. There is also a cash prize.

INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER

containing the same contents as the previous poster, except the location which reads, “Southern markets of Dasmus City at 15:47, drunkenly playing a red Phenver brand guitar”.

A view of Axel between the alley's walls. All around are copies of the same two posters, both in electronic and printed forms. A mildly shocked expression crosses her face.

INT. TOILETS – DAY

A view of a row of toilet stalls. None of the stalls' doors are closed, except for the one in the centre. Axel's guitar leans on a nearby wall. Her feet can be seen in the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Axel kicks the wall.

AXEL

Damn it! I'm such an idiot! What was I thinking?! Me? A musician? That's just one way to draw attention!

VONARB (O.S)

Axel? Is that you?

AXEL (CONT'D)

I can't b-- (Pause) Ms Vonarb?

Axel immediately opens her stall's door and looks in the direction of ALICIA VONARB'S voice. Vonarb walks towards Axel.

VONARB

And to think I'd meet you here of all places?

AXEL

I never expected to see you here, either.

VONARB

Well, isn't this quite the reunion?

AXEL

Eh. Not really.

VONARB

I'm surprised you got clever enough to get yourself out of prison.

Axel exits her stall.

AXEL

So, is that to say you're impressed with me?

VONARB

Nope. How'd you think I found you here so easily?

AXEL

Easily? That was easy?

VONARB

Anyway... Don't think I came trying to find you for no reason, now.

AXEL

Oh yeah! Coincidentally, I'm a bit short on cash. You don't happen to want to hire me again, don't you?

VONARB

(Laughs)

What? After getting yourself thrown in jail?

AXEL

Oh... (Pause) What are you even here for, anyway?

VONARB

Well. First of all... (Clears throat) Whatever you do, please don't take this the wrong way.

AXEL

Huh?

Silence. The two stare at each other. Axel tilts her head in confusion. Eventually, O MIHO and K CLAYMONT enter the room. Miho holds a taser while Claymont holds a bag.

CLAYMONT

Now, I don't mean to spread any panic or alarm--

AXEL

(Gasps)

You gotta be kidding me!

VONARB

I just said to not take it the wrong way--

AXEL

I knew it! You are as easy to see through as a window! It's 'cause of my “WANTED” sign, isn't it, Vonarb?

VONARB

Wrong!

AXEL

Huh?

VONARB

You see, we're here to keep you away from those authorities. And knowing you, you're probably so incompetent that you'd just wind up stuck in prison again! So, since you're with us, you're going nowhere.

AXEL

What? Why?

VONARB

You're pretty infamous now. And I've got my business to worry about, too. So, if it didn't all add up in that brain of yours, let's just say, I don't want to risk you ratting me out.

AXEL

Yeah, I'm not doing that!

Grabbing her guitar, Axel jumps on the sinks and runs along them. Miho runs to tase her. Axel whacks him with her guitar and then heads right out the door. Claymont follows.

CLAYMONT (O.S)

I got it!

EXT. CITY STREETS – DAY

A view of the front of a pub. There is people scattered everywhere. Suddenly, the door swings right open and Axel sprints outside with her guitar now strapped over her back. She continues along the street. Claymont chases right after.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Ground Rules

Geralt lays down the law with the help of yennefer after catching the reader haveing a bit of me time in the bath.

Masterlist

Ok this took all day as i couldnt stop tweaking it and i got to the point iv just got to step back and throw it out there or im gonna scream.Any way this is to go along with pastry negotiations its based after that one so could be considered part two? can be read stand alone tho in all honesty these modern reader inserts are gonna jump about in timeline cos my plot bunnys are twats. Im basing my Ciri on a mix of mature netflix Ciri and slightly mischievous witcher 3 Ciri. Any way i hope you enjoy this one im pretty pleased with it xx 

WARNING: Adult Themes, Smut, DubCon Swearing MxFxF 18+

Dont like it dont read it.

Geralt snaps when you take matters into your own hands.

The Ground Rules

"Well someone is excited" Jaskier drolled as he watched your form slowly creating distance between you as you marched ahead.

As the small rickety town came into veiw you cried out a victorious and dramatic "still alive" causing eye rolls and chuckles in the group. Honestly this was the first real town you'd come to since being here and you were thrilled. Sure you'd passed a tiny smattering of houses four or so days ago where you'd traded for some bread, tiny amount of dried meat and a few other essentials oh! and yenn had managed to replace your pastry to the amusment of the resident witcher. They'd both been more open with you since the whole pastry incident-which you thought was an off handed comment on yennefers part but she and geralt had since indicated otherwise.

The people in the village had mentioned of a near by town that was rumoured to have a contract out on a nest of some monster thingamajigs that you hadn't botherd to remeber the name of .You looked down the verge towards the town with immediate thoughts of eat, bathe and sleep- on a bed, a real fucking bed ,ok so it wont be a temper mattress but you could live with that-oh my fucking god hot water,a nice loooong soak you moaned in your throat the thought alone brought tears to your eyes. You walked ahead trying to usher the group.

And maybe you could have your own room. Honestly sharing a bed with the couple was becoming an issue for you,your crush on them was definatly getting out of control now constantly blushing under their heated glances and they are becoming more touchy feely, Hands lingering longer than nesscasary or leaning in so close so thier breath tickled the hairs on your neck basically doing anything to get you flustered and you swear to god yesterday yennefer copped a feel whilst helping you threw a small steam which you didn't need help with;not that she listened. Bottom line you were becoming sexualy frustrated pretty much staying in a constant state of arousal a night away from them to take care of business would be very much appreciated. 

"Come ooooonnnn guys keep up" you turned looking back at them drawing out your whine befor resuming towards the town

"Someone should catch up with her she looks like a girl on a mission" Yennefer commented 

"Yes. Ciri would you keep her near the main gate and out of trouble while we settle roach in the stables ,here take her this she should cover up befor anyone gets any ideas" geralt grunted as your form began to dissapear down the brow of the hill ,ciri looked between the two before shrugging grabbing his offered cloak then ran to catch up with you.

You glanced to the side as you heard footsteps noticing Ciri fall in step with you she held out his cloak.

"Here geralt said to cover up before people get any ideas" you sighed it wasnt your fault his shirt hung off of you showing a large amount of shoulder and chest luckily when the hoover portal of doom sucked you in you were in fleece lined black leggings that had been durable enough to survive the last 3 weeks on the road(your stitch t shirt hadn't survived your initial fall) because you doubt he'd have anything your hips would get in to. Rolling your eyes you pulled the heavy fabric across your shoulders repostioning it so that it wasnt draging on the floor to much but was still sheilding your body. 

"He's such a dad" Ciri giggled nodding in agreement befor reciting what esle geralt had requested ordered. You scoffed shaking your head

"So he doesnt even trust me to walk through a town, he does realise im an adult right? That i can do things with out causing trouble. i mean for god sake im not jaskier" she snorted 

"I think its more like he doesnt want other men trying to sleep with you" you did a double take 

"The hell you know about that sort of shit? has Jaskier been corrupting you?"

 A knowing smirk crossed her face as she held her hands up coming to a halt facing you just inside the wooden gates of the town.

"You think i havent noticed whats going on by myself, Geralt likes you so does yenn jaskiers noticed to, think he's going to write a song" 

"He better bloody not and anyway maybe i want to find a companion for the night." You announced tersely crossing your arms only to freeze as you heard a growl from behind you.

"Oh yes, i may have forgot to mention that witchers are senses are really sensetive" she smiled sweetly, you gaped why were you only being told this now. Looking between her and the others approaching.

"Wh-what how the fuck you leave that out? d-do you think he heard us? from back there" She nodded 

"Most definitely" you gulped feeling yourself shrink into Geralts cloak a little at the looks you received from Geralt and Yennefer as he spoke to her telling her what youd just said.oh fuck.

"when you say senses you mean all of 'em? Not just one or two?" hoping beyond hope that something had been lost in translation.

"Nope all of them sight, smell, hearing the whole lot" she replied watching the colour drain from your horror sticken face. You'd been getting wet over the past few days. And the realisation that he probably knew embarrassed the shit out of you. Geralt smirked obviously he heard.You were so fucked.he knew and if he knew then she knew.oh my god. You were sooo fucked.'whelp there goes my dignity' you thought. He strode past you to the mediocre stables with roach in toe ready to hitch her for the night.Jaskier and yenn followed pulling some of the bags off of the horse then passing them out to their respective owners. Geralt then stood before you all giving you all the 'game plan' as you call it.

"we will find an inn and eat after that you get settled in for the night whist i see about this contract."

"don't bother about me tonight im going to catch myself a young fair maiden for the night" you scoffed at Jaskier's announcement drawing his attention

"Sounding like a creeper there Jask, what? you gonna do throw a net in the tavern? don't think they'd take to kindly to that" he huffed through his nose aggravated. 

"No im going to sing in the tavern and lure a beauty to my side for the night" you played along widening your eyes in false realization

"oohh so your gonna go pay for it, how does it work exactly is it by hour or-" Geralt quickly intervened covering your mouth one to stop the inevitable spat and two before you could corrupt Ciri any further Jaskier deadpanned giving you a flat look.

"you're welcome to come find out for yourself im sure your just Itching  to get some relief-"

"JASKIER! you go ahead at least try to keep a bit of coin back this time" Jaskier 1 Y/n 0.

You glowered behind Geralt's hand as he dismissed the smirking bard who turned on his heel prancing off quite pleased with himself. You smacked Geralt's hand away wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before slowly making your way down the street into town.It had taken nearly half an hour to find a decent inn that had room for the four of you. A room with two double beds that had a heavy curtain to split the room into two it was usually rented by traveling families. You groaned as you walked in, now you really couldn't take care of business, you followed Ciri as she placed her bag on the bed on the left following suit you placed yours on the other half of it only to have Yennefer quickly relocated it to her side of the other bed. Ciri snorted giving you a knowing look.you sighed then stomped across the room. Knowing all to well that it was futile to argue with the sorceress ,the witcher was stubborn but she was something else. Geralt handed a small pouch of coin to Yennefer.

"This is for the new clothes Ciri needs a thicker cloak preferably fur lined maybe new boots to not sure how long those will last in the mountains." yennefer hummed as she pocketed the money. 

"And the clothes for Y/n as well?" 

"Yes, should be enough there for what we discussed if not i'v got a bit more saved" you raised your brows blinking at them.

"err what was discussed? guys? what did you talk about? was it about me? helloooo" you waved as they ignored you.Yennefer pulled off her cloak leaving it on her side of the bed. you and Ciri followed their lead only for Geralt the tug yours back across you giving a sharp look as you rolled your eyes.The group made its way down into the quiet main room of the family run inn where you were served a meal of roast beef with vegetable trimmings ,before you knew it Geralt had left to find out about the contract with a final 'Behave' thrown in your direction.To which you grunted in response,too full to even tell him to 'jog on' - a phrase that still frustrated the witcher as he didn't know the meaning-. Yennefer had asked for a bath before your meal which you were just informed was ready leaving you alone with the sorceress. You had all decided Ciri would have the bath first then you, yennefer and finally geralt if he was back before it got cold.

"I cant breath" yennefer laughed out loud you rubbed your tummy closing your eyes

"I mean honestly, I think theres food in my lungs" groaning leaning back against the chair she gave a sympathetic smile

"Well you did inhale your food, maybe next time take it easy."

"Can you blame me, been the first meat iv recognized since i got here" It was true so far you'd been living on meats that you wouldn't have necessarily chose to eat back home rabbit,mutton venison ect.

"After we've bathed we will rest for the day but tomorrow we have to run over to the seamstress and get your new clothes, not sure how long we will be here and might have to order some or have them taken up,you are a little thing.Might have to have some leather work done too." you squinted pointing an accusing finger at her

"You calling me a midget? we going for shots now are we?" she smiled sheepishly

"No .no shots?. i just meant your petite don't worry its very cute. Anyway we are only picking up the basics a few day dresses ,Riding clothes boots that sort of thing" you blinked owlishly flushing as she called you cute. 

"Riding clothes yes. Dresses no thank you" she stared unblinking at you for a few moments making you squirm at the calm expectant gaze that was getting heavier by the second, it was like the eyes of a mother when you'd been caught doing some dumb shit you knew you shouldn't be doing.

"Stop it....Yenn no... cant i just get something like Geralt has..please... i'd be much more comfortable...even Jaskier i mean im not one for the puffy bits but 'd make do....."

she blinked slowly

"Oh fine but only one or two no more and your not getting rid of these leggings either" you gave in, her gaze was to unnerving and it did things to you. Her face lit up. She was looking forward to seeing you in feminine gown instead of a her and Geralt's shirts not that she minded but it'd be a nice change to your strange stetchy leggings (not that she minded you in the form fitting bottoms) She moved leaning in to your side hand on your thigh patting it lightly.

"Thank you, don't be so worried i will take good care of everything" you gulped as you felt the flushed skin of your face grow hotter,your core clenching and warming at her sultry reply you closed your eyes trying to regain a bit of control. Suddenly her attention was drawn to a pink skinned Ciri who had finished her bath and changed Yenn nodded and released your thigh. You bolted upstairs hearing a chuckle as you did.

Once in the room you sighed in relief, making your way towards the screened off section that held a large oval tub full of steaming water. Discarding your clothes as you all but melted into the hot water.You submerged yourself getting your hair wet scratching tentatively at your scalp that had begun to ache under the grime. Spotting a small stool with what you'd consider toiletries, a bar of hard sweet smelling soap and a few vials.You grabbed the soap, opting for using it for your hair as well unsure what vials did what and went where.After scrubbing all the built up sweat and dirt you you closed your eyes lounging back against the slanted end tub you relaxed a few moments it wasn't long before you were feeling much better ,tired muscles succumbing to the soothing hot water.your body hummed. 'no one would have to know' as your summarized that this was the perfect opportunity to relieve yourself of other tensions, 

'its not like geralt could smell you under water, i mean i dont think dogs can thats why criminals cross rivers when their being hunted on tv isn't it?' biting your lip you peaked an eye open and listened out carefully feeling naughty when you began moving your hand to the apex of your thighs gasping as your finger ghosted over your hardened bundle of nerves .Fuck. Your clit was sensitive not surprising when Geralt and Yennefer had practically edged you for nearly a week. You whined quietly as you began a fast rhythm on your clit ,other hand slinking down to your opening rubbing your fingers up and down the warm weeping hole. You bit off a groan as your hips gyrated against your roaming hands. Stomach tensing as you drove yourself faster and faster to the edge.Almost there.Fuck almost-you jumped hissing 'shit' ,ripping your hands away from yourself , sitting up fast enough to make your head spin splashing a wave of water over the floor when you heard the door open slamming the wall beside it.

"err theres some one in here!" you called out loudly, angry at who ever just interrupted you.You got nervous as the heavy steps quickly made their way towards you.Realizing who ever it was didn't care for your modesty as they were coming your way you slung your top half out of the tub to grasp the towel screaming because before you could grasp it and cover yourself a large calloused hand enveloped your shoulder shoving you back into the water.

"WH-GERALT THE FUCK? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME." you shouted at him as he released you then you looked down slapping your hands down to cover your self as he raised his eyebrows and gave a lop sided grin.He defiantly looked like the big bad wolf in that moment eyes ablaze with a hunger you wasn't sure you wanted to explore or not. Collecting yourself swallowing dryly before scolding him in a voice that seemed to become smaller with each word.

"hey! get the fuck out im trying to bathe you prick" you heard the door open and close again in a less violent fashion. And suprize suprize yennefer glided into view behind the .

"Thats not all you were doing tho was it? i can fucking smell you" was growled at you as geralt wet his lips you squeaked. 

"huh? b-but.. i thought..w-water" you stuttered out as your brain malfunctioned on on an epic scale. Yennefer gave out a loud laugh.

"so thats why he tore threw the inn like that.honestly Geralt i thought something was wrong" she continued laughing as she replayed the way geralt had all but vaulted the tables to get to the stairs. you pouted throughly humiliated

"something is wrong" he ground out before kneeling beside you .Shifting you tired to create some distance from him. He was having none of that wasting no time thrusting his hands into the water tugging away your shielding hand the other forcing its way between your legs. You slammed back against the tub gasping trying to get away. All you'd achieved was his hand pinning your hips to the back of the bath by your pussy

"GERALT WHA-"  

"Lets lay down some ground rules" He squeezed your throbbing heat in his hand curling his fingers dangerously close to your opening you bucked moaning breathlessly .Your eyes searched Yennefer's for help but she wore a similar hungry look that he had. Another slow squeeze brought your attention back to the brooding alpha male in the room.

"This is ours.ours to lick,suck and fuck as we see fit, to do what we please with and is off limits to your wandering little hands we clear on that?" You groaned out as he emphasized certain words with teasing brushes of fingers and a slow rub of his palm. Realizing that he might actually be serious.You nodded quickly babbling as he rocked his hand back and forth igniting the heat that you had built alone.

"C-crystal-please Geralt PLease" You threw your head back as his hand moved deliberate and teasing.

"You think you deserve it? after being caught up here playing with yourself?" You nodded then shook your head confused, unable to really concentrate on anything apart from his magnificent hand ,half lidded eyes and clenching your fingers tight around the thumb he was using it to control your movements as your body whithered under his ministrations.

"Really?" He said smirking as he held completely still you sucked through your teeth biting back curses.He chuckled smug bastard. moving trying to get some friction to no avail.

"Well we have been teasing the poor thing ,of course shes going to try sorting herself out the first chance she gets .Honestly Geralt what did you expect? i did tell you" yennefer reasoned as she stood behind you combing threw your wet hair you before grasping your free hand pulling it up out of the way kissing your palm before ghosting her nose down your neck pressing soft kisses along it you mewled at her and tried to coax geralt to continue again by rolling your hips.

"I suppose we could let her off this time" His voice was pure sex as he glanced down before giving into pushing two thick fingers up into you. his breach of your walls had an initial sting but was incredible as your needy walls tried sucking him deeper greedy to be filled.

"oh-oh fuck Ger-please" you arched your back pushing down onto his hand clutching onto Yennefer's wrist. you were so hot .fuck.he was gonna make you cum too quick. You panted throwing your head side to side as your legs tensed then raised up towards your torso, your pussy wrapped tight around Geralts fingers as he held them deep every few thrusts making you feel just how your walls rippled around him. he alternated between fast and shallow then slow and deep trying to build you up slowly he wasn't going to rush you, he was skilled enough to walk you up to the edge and throw you off whenever he damn well pleased. You'd never been this desperate in your life . Yenn's cool fingers delicately teased out your nipples pinching and flicking them until they stood out provocatively. You rocked against the both of them as Geralt made sure to start dragging your clit up and down with his palm as he finger fucked you curling his fingers searching for that small spot that'd send your mind reeling. Yenn had leaned down kissing your cheek and begun whispering lowly into your ear.

"He knows what he's doing doesn't he?Iit wont take him long to find every single spot you have, thats the thing with bedding a witcher they are much more observant then regular men. I have no doubt he will know when your going to orgasm before you do.He has the ability to force them out of nowhere when ever he pleases.. He is quite cruel like that" you moaned out loud snapping your head back high pitched and vulgar sounds tore from your throat as Geralts invading fingers began rubbing furiously back and forth on a soft spot inside of you.Unable to control yourself as your legs and tummy spasmed erratically as your tearfull moans and pleas filled the room

"Thats it oh i think iv found it~" he boasted as he moved his elbow pinning a knee to the side of the tub leaving your clit cruelly exposed for Yennefer,they shared a look as she moved her hand down to join Geralts taking over to rub small firm circles on your exposed clit.

"oh-OH fuck noNOno i cant please i ca-UGh to-Too much please FUCK" Yennefer was quick to swallow your moans in a kiss of clashing teeth and tongues before any one could hear ,tears streamed down your face as your body ached your pussy contracting painfully around his swiping digits. Pulling back for air the sorceress placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulders leaving red marks with her teeth and sucking bites.

"Good girl your being sooo good you don't have to ask this time" she praised as she reached your ear befor sucking harshly below your jaw. you were quickly becoming putty in their hands Geralt growled as he picked up the begining tremors of your orgasm.

"Look at me" you obeyed instantly moaning as you watched the white wolf pull his lip up in a snarl that would have scared you any other time.

"This is what you were made for, your ours, we own you, mind body and soul we own every whimper ,every tear ,every orgasm and hole they are ours for the taking when ever we choose,from now only ecstasy you will know is what we give you" You'd never have guessed how filthy his mouth could be but it seemed to have the desired effect as a sudden rush of heat was your only warning before rearing up screaming out, not sure if you'd shut your eyes or blacked out for a moment as you gushed into the bath water.Geralt pressed into you persistent while Yennefer's hand continued the tight circles efficiently drawing out the best orgasm your ever had.Finally their movements ceased and your body went limp wracked trembling in the aftermath as your orgasm ebbed away slowly. After giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath Geralt removed his fingers you whimpered inside's still so sensitive after your orgasm, sucking on them he moaned deep and feral before plucking your clenched fingers off his thumb. Yennefer quickly wiped your pussy gently clearing the cum from between your swollen lips. Making you twitched as the cloth ran over you.Pulling you from the bath was a joint effort as they rested you on the bed and began patting you dry with the towel.Moaning in protest as your arms waved loosely trying to take over only having your hand smacked away as they finished.Lying back looking up at them bleary eyed trying to stay awake you felt like jelly, giving up fighting you rolled over yawning tucking your arms below your head Yennefer tilted her head stroking your hair sending you into a relaxed sleep.

"Poor dear ,Oh look at her geralt shes all fucked out and we haven't even fucked her yet" 

"hmm she'll be ok we just need to work on her stamina" he replied patting your bottom as he pulled the cover over your washed out form.Geralt panicked

"Shit wheres Ciri?"

"well when you came charging in down stairs i told her to go find Jaskier and stay there until one of us came to get her" Yennefer said with a sly grin he shook his head and scooped her up kissing her passionately. As he took a few steps to the now vacant bath

"well the bath is still warm care to join me?"

"with pleasure lets try not to wake her tho"

.

See you soon xxx

[hitsuackerman]

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.17

a/n: aye. please read the authors note at the end :)

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @sayakaaaaaa @colorseeingchick @demursv1ogs​ @chrisrue15 @beanst0ck  @parttime-simp​  @kit-kat428​ @ntimacy​ @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 18

The last thing you saw, before being eaten by whatever Deku projected, were Akaashi’s wide opened eyes. After that, it was nothing but darkness. If it weren’t for Bakugo gripping tightly onto your uniform, you swore you would have experienced a heart attack despite such a young age.

Yet, the sensation of opening your eyes to bland white walls and beeping machines was foreign.

“(y/n)? Darling?” A familiar voice caught your attention. “Are you alright?”

Attempting to sit up, you were assisted with a pair of warm hands. Looking at the owner, your breath hitched upon seeing the face you had been trying to communicate many months back. Scanning the room, you accounted your parents, all your classmates, Bakugo, and Deku. The latter two being assisted by two nurses.

“(y/n)...? Drink this.” Shoto said as he handed a glass of water. Holding the glass to your mouth, he watched as you gulped down the liquid.

“Wh-why am I here?” You muttered. Looking at Bakugo and Deku, seeking answers from them would be useless. Both boys were still groggy and coming to their senses. Only to be met with silence, your eyes tried to meet whoever would dare answer your question. “Why isn’t anyone answering me?”

With the heart monitor picking up your increasing pulse, Shoto carefully placed his arm around your shoulder. Instincts came in as you immediately held on to his hand for support.

“Calm down.” He whispered. “If you want to cry then it’s alright. Giving yourself more stress isn’t good for you.”

Knowing he was right, you leaned on his arm and stared at your palm. Activating your quirk, a small gasp escaped your lips when you felt its power once more. The usual effort of having to use it seemingly vanished. With the glow brighter than ever, you quickly clenched your fist and let out a sigh.

“Shoto?”

“What is it? Are you in pain?” He leaned in closer and held your hand.

“I don’t wanna be here.” It was barely audible but he heard it enough.

“(y/n)-chan?” It wasn’t new for you to hear people calling you by that name but it felt different. Used to hearing Bokuto or even Konoha, your lips twitched upon recalling that you were not in the same world as them. Glancing at the source, Recover Girl had prepared a syringe with some sort of glowing liquid. “This’ll help calm your nerves and prevent your quirk from going haywire.”

Extending your arm, you barely winced as the needle pierced your skin.

“Would you like some privacy?” Recovery Girl asked. Though she knew that there was no need to question, it was only out of respect towards the visitors. Once she received a nod of confirmation, she began to shoo the people out of the room. Save for Shoto, Bakugo, and Deku. “Now that they’re out of the way, how’re you feeling?”

“I feel…” How did you feel? It was bad enough that you were forcibly taken back to where you belonged. If she was talking about your quirk then you were definitely sure how you felt. However, if she meant about the gaping hole developing in your heart then it was something you’d rather not dive into. “I’m not really sure how I feel.”

“Would you like to know why you came back here?”

“If it doesn’t bother you, then yes please.”

“Initially, you were supposed to be back after 4 days. At least that’s what we had initially agreed on.” She began. “But, the machine carrying Bakugo and Midoriya over to your location malfunctioned. Instead of your quirk going haywire, it was Midoriya’s that did. However, it would be better for you to take into consideration.”

“That what?”

“Midoriya and Bakugo were supposedly, in theory at least, to be transported and thereby encapsulated to those tanks over there.” Using her syringe cane, she pointed to the rather large mechanism. “That IV hose on your chest targets your arteries. Because of the nature of your quirk, it was a gamble on our part to see if that was the core of your power.”

“This medical talk is only confusing me.” You let go of Shoto’s hand and massaged your temple. “What is the point of all that?”

“It means that everything that happened, everything you felt and experienced, was nothing but a product of your mind’s unconscious effort to create a paradise.”

“P-pardon?”

“Because we were using your quirk as a means of bringing you back, it was expected that once the both of things were good to go, they would become as little as atoms and be enclosed in those capsules. Once they were stabilized, they would then take a small trip inside that IV hose connected to your chest. Merging them with your quirk, it would open the path to your neocortex and thalamus.”

“I wasn’t asking about the procedure.” You were more than aware you sounded rude but that was beyond you. “Did you say everything was a product of my i-imagination?”

“The effort of saving you could have gone two ways. The hypothesis was that if these two boys shrunk and turned into the size of atoms, then the possibility of another universe was very high. Yet they never did. Their bodies were not affected yet the green light indicated they had safely traversed to where they needed to be.”

“So... “ Feeling your fingers grow numb, you held on to your blanket and relayed all the events that happened. From having to adjust and get to know your surroundings, learning more about whatever life you had before you woke up in that version of Tokyo, to growing closer with the people there, and to eventually finding solace in the skilled hands of a setter… was nothing but a product of your imagination. “None of it was real?”

With no answer coming from the small nurse, you let out a silent cry towards Bakugo and Deku.

“You guys were there right? You saw how each person had their own train of thought? How big that area was?” Blinking the stinging sensation away, you felt tears rolling down your cheek. The heart monitor gradually beeping faster.

“I get that you’re panicking but what Recovery Girl stated, we were informed about it.” Deku explained. “In all honesty, Kacchan and I were putting it into consideration that something was off and that all of that was real. But the more we thought about it, the more it dawned to us that nothing really made sense.”

“Think about it, extra. You told us you’d be reaching 8 months there. I bet your mother there doesn’t even have a damn clue as to who you really are. Don’t even think about foul mouthing me cause I spend a handful of my time debating whether or not that's true or not.”

“Maybe it was a side effect of that villain’s quirk.” Shoto finally spoke up. He had a ton of questions but he knew it would all be left unanswered. “It happened right after, did it not? Perhaps it wasn’t water but something else and that the records were wrong.”

“We rechecked the criminal’s records and can confirm that his quirk was just water.” Recovery Girl added. Standing up, she fixed her coat and walked closer to you. “I know your thoughts are rampant and in a mess but don’t strain yourself. You just woke up and are still in an unstable position. Let me know if you want some Temazepam. Sleep would help.”

Watching her leave, you stared at the large window.

“Akaashi Keiji. Bokuto Kotarou. Konoha. Fukurodani Gakuen. Other Mother. Asami. Akiko.” You began to roll call each person you knew. At least the very important ones.

“Are those names?” Shoto asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“I have a lot of questions but I know you deserve to rest.” He carefully placed his index finger on your cheek to make you stare at him. Seeing how pale and spaced out you were, he motioned for you to scoot over and give him space. Giving him enough room to lay down, you allowed him to pull you into his arms. “I’m all ears if you want to vent it out.”

“I…” Making yourself comfortable, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The warmth his body gave was as comforting as ever. Closing your eyes, you began to absentmindedly play with his shirt. “Am I going crazy, Shoto? Everything felt real. There’s no way I’m capable of creating something that vast in my head.”

“Were those the names of the people you encountered?”

“Yeah. A few of them. Shoto?”

“Hm?”

“What did my mom and dad do?”

“Well…” Blinking his thoughts he wasn’t sure whether he should share it or not. “They were planning to get you back forcefully after 3 days. Whether Bakugo or Midoriya were fine with it or not.”

“Hm… I guess nothing’s changed. Truth be told I was kinda expecting something like this to happen.” Wrapping your arm around his body, you allowed your mind to wander what was happening on the other side. Did they remember you? Now that you weren’t there, did the you from the pictures emerge?

“Don’t overthink. Nothing good comes from that.” Turning to face you, he began to pat the back of your head. Despite the countless times he’s done that gesture, he had to admit he was still stiff as a board when it came to affectionate cuddles. “Go to sleep. I’ll see what I can do to help when you wake up.”

“I’m sorry for bringing more drama into your life.” You chuckled as you savored the safety Todoroki Shoto offered. “You have more than enough on your plate.”

“I don’t mind. Just don’t go on by thinking you don’t belong here.” Resting his lips on the crown of your head, he took a moment and blinked his thought process. The slight increase of his heartbeat was a bit off. Thinking it was due to the coffee he had a few hours ago, he shook his head and closed his eyes. “I’ll always be here. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“I know~”

You weren’t sure how many hours you slept but it still hadn’t sunken in that you woke up next to a sleeping Todoroki. Still in the nurse’s office, you sat up and examined your body. It was only now how you saw the amount of tubes and hoses that pierced your rather weak torso.

Looking across your bed, the machine that had transported Bakugo and Deku stood out like a sore thumb. You could tell it wasn’t the handy work of any of the support students. Staring at the capsules, your eyes followed the connected hose till your vision rested on your chest. It did occur to you that perhaps your heart was the center of your quirk, you just never took it seriously.

“How ironic.” You commented.

Feeling the bed shifting, you glanced over your shoulder and admired how fast asleep your friend was. Remembering that BakuDeku were still in the room, the hospital curtain prevented you from searching for them. Recovery Girl must have given you privacy when you two fell asleep.

Focusing on your palms, you activated your quirk. It truly felt amazing to know your powers were back to the way they were. Yet, being used to not having to rely on it was a whole different story. It may have been 2 months on this side of the world but it would probably be much easier to be relying on your quirk than not.

Slowly laying back down, you rested on your side and stared at the sleeping Shoto. Fixing his bangs, an image of Akaashi sleeping flashed in your mind. Compared to Shoto’s soft features, Akaashi was gifted with rather sharp ones.

What was he doing now? Were his thoughts or memories wiped clean? The last words you said before waking up was his name to add to your growing list of problems.

“Don’t cry.” Drowned in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that Shoto had woken up. Meeting his eyes, there was nothing but sadness and sincerity.

Wiping the tears with his sleeve, he kept his right palm open. Using his quirk, he began to form little snowflakes.

“You’ve gotten better~” You sniffled. A small smile resting on your tear stained face. If there was one thing you two kept a secret, it was how Shoto couldn’t create detailed snowflakes. On a good day, he could form a few lumps of soft snow but this time, he had managed to create intricate patterns large enough for the eyes to see.

“Found some spare time to practice. It took a while but I realized that I had to incorporate a bit of heat into the mix. It’s pretty, is it not?”

“It is.”

“I won’t ask why you stopped trying to communicate with us here.” He began. “Bakugo and Midoriya managed to send a message about what was happening to them. I was honestly relieved that you were doing fine. But it annoyed how I couldn’t do anything.”

“You did what you could, Tododorky~” You poked his cheek. “Just give me a few days and I’ll answer your questions alright?”

“Alright.”

- - - - -

a/n:

I’m back :D

I posted much later than anticipated and I’m really sorry to keep all of you waiting :( My schedule was just so jam packed and I just couldn’t insert the time to write. If I did, I only managed to squeeze in a few sentences before I gave up due to stress and hatred of whatever the fuck is happening to the company I’m working in -_-

I’ve been feeling quite low these past few days and it’s really making me question whether or not the stories I make are worth reading :( I’m still tired as it is but it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t try to make things better than they are :]

that being said, the next upload date is a bit blurry but I will do my very best to upload back to my original schedule! :)

i hope all of you enjoy your day and this chapter! :) it ain’t much but i tried T.T

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 9)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But   fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: long time no see!!!! Here’s the new update^^ ive been on summer vacation for a few weeks now and unmotivated to write since this is the first time in a while i can really rest but ive been playing a lot of mysme and watching a lot of tv lmaooo

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

What does this mean?

Your thoughts are jumbled together as Baekhyun falls asleep against your chest. His soft whimpers and twitches are comforting almost in the quiet of the room. This isn’t the first time that he’s fallen asleep before you after a night together, but it is the first that he’s fallen asleep like this.

Curled around you, against your chest, breaths puffing out softly against your skin.

You can recall countless times you’ve woken up in bed with him, at opposite ends of the bed, not touching any more than absolutely necessary. Pissed off at any little sound or movement that he would make in dreamland. Bothered by the feeling of sweaty skin touching your own once the lust has faded to nothing.

It’s a startling comparison to how you feel now, but there’s no part of you that feels bothered by it.

You let your fingers run through his soft dark hair absentmindedly. It doesn’t take long for you to be lulled asleep by the feeling of warmth surrounding you and the soft snores filling your room.

~~~

The tension doesn’t go away.

The arguing doesn’t stop.

Better yet, it amplifies.

“If you step foot in my quarters without permission again, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Do you want to test me?” There’s a smirk fighting to break out as you say the words. He takes another step forward and you feel your heart rate picking up at the excitement visible in his eyes.

Jongin steps between you. “Please, can you not fight today? You guys have been going at it every day. We’re tired.”

You blink and look at the man amusedly. He looks genuinely exasperated standing in front of his captain like this. “Would you rather I fight with you?” You take a step towards him and watch excitedly as he takes a surprised step back and pink flushes across his cheeks. You feel playful, but it seems as though Jongin doesn’t fully realize it.

Baekhyun pushes Jongin behind him. You can still see the color on his cheeks as he ducks his head down behind Baekhyun. “Don’t flirt with my first mate!”

“You flirt with mine!” you state with a scoff.

Junmyeon blinks at your words from where he emerges from the kitchens. You cast him an accusatory glance and he shrugs before turning away and resuming his duties. You know that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, being called out for flat out flirting with Baekhyun, but you’ve still decided to give them both shit for it. They’re both naturally touchy, they can’t help it. Once Baekhyun finally got over whatever was making him pissy at Junmyeon, the two have become quick friends. Close friends.

A bit too close for your own liking –if you’re honest with yourself.

Minseok takes it upon himself to grab you by the arm and drag you away with a pointed look in Baekhyun’s direction. You let him pull you to the hull and wave away Ten at the wheel without a word.

He doesn’t seem exasperated by the arguing as he did the last time he pulled you aside, but you still expect a lecture of some kind from him. You won’t be the one to break the silence in fear of getting a talk like that of the one in the infirmary all those days ago.  

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you blankly. “Do you think that you might want to go back to doing your job now, Captain?”

“I am doing my job,” you throw back easily. His lip twitches but he doesn’t bother to humor you with any kind of response outside of a disbelieving chuckle. He turns around and you watch him walk off and grab Baekhyun by the back of the neck with a squeeze so hard that it nearly brings the younger to his knees. Minseok whispers harshly into his ear and Baekhyun nods rapidly in agreement to whatever he’s being told. It takes a full 5 seconds of you watching the scene to realize what you’re doing.

Nothing.

Maybe Minseok was right. You should go back to doing your job.

You settle at the unoccupied wheel of your ship and look out in the distance at the empty expanse of water ahead. At this point in the journey, you only know to continue sailing forward until there is a sign of Isla de Sirena. Truthfully, you wish that your crew could avoid this trial entirely.

After the first one, the storm that almost claimed your life and your ship, you fear for the state of the Storm Chaser and your men in the face of what are essentially evil mermaids. Unfortunately, the only way to advance on to the third and final trial is to face each one before it head on. There’s no shortcut in the return back to Atlantis, but fuck do you wish there was.

This time, you hope that Junmyeon is able to use his song a bit more helpfully so that you aren’t nearly killed again.

It hasn’t even been 2 weeks since the storm and your embrace with death.

You hear the sound of boots against wood and feel a presence behind you. A glance to the side and you see Junmyeon stopping a few feet from your right with his eyes trained out on the horizon.

“Junmyeon?”

He blinks a few times as if clearing his mind from a stupor. Something about the look in his eyes worries you.

“I…I don’t have a good feeling about where we’re heading.”

Your eyebrows pull together in concern. You feel as though you may need to talk to Junmyeon in private, but you can’t do that at the helm. You look over the ship for someone to take your place.

“Sehun!” you shout across the ship once you spot the man. Sehun turns from his conversation with Jongin by the entrance to the crew cabins at the sound of his name. You motion him over. He jogs up to you immediately and you step away from the wheel. “Can you steer for a while?” you ask. He frowns slightly but nods in agreement. Sehun looks between you and Junmyeon, who has turned back to staring off with a sort of glazed look in his eyes, with worry.

You grab at your first mate’s arm and pull him off to the side where you can talk to him out of earshot of anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper once the panic clouding over his eyes disappears yet again. You don’t like the way he’s acting.

He shakes his head at your words. “The tune of the song is off. There’s something wrong about the song,” he says softly, fearfully.

“What do you mean? Are we not going the right way?”

“No it’s not that, we are…I’m still sure we are. I just…” His eyes lose focus just behind you; you squeeze his arm to bring his attention back to you. You frown at the blank expression on his face. “We should be extra cautious of what’s to happen next…”

His behavior and words fill you with unease. For Junmyeon to be so out of it is abnormal –extremely so. Of anyone on the ship, he’s always the most aware of everything going on at any point in time.

And he was fine earlier.

“Do you need to lie down for a bit? You’re kind of scaring me,” you admit. When he blinks again and his look is suddenly clear and focused, you shudder.

“No, we all need to be on high alert. We’ll come across Isla de Sirena at any moment from now to tomorrow. We only know the general location of the island, and that doesn’t help us out very much-”

“Captain!” You whirl around at the frantic voice. Yeri pants as she runs up to you. “Captain,” she gasps out again through desperate inhales of air. “We see something up ahead!”

You catch the way Junmyeon swallows nervously before you make your way back to the hull where Sehun is still steering. You squint out ahead of the ship.

You see nothing.

“Where’s my telescope?” You bark out. You scan the deck of your ship to find a few of your men at the bow, surrounding Baekhyun with your telescope up to his eye.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell him not to use my shit…”

Yeri flushes at your side. “I’ll...uh… I’ll go get it from him Captain,” she says apologetically before jogging away to the huddle of people trying to catch sight of whatever has been…sighted.

Yeri taps on Baekhyun’s shoulder and waits until he investigates who has disrupted him, before she snatches the device directly from his hand. You watch as he stares at her retreating figure with an offended look at her curt behavior. You smile proudly to yourself. When Yeri returns to your side and your telescope is back in your possession, you catch Baekhyun’s eyes and flick him off.

He sends you a finger back with an upwards twitch of the corner of his mouth.

You turn your attention back to Yeri before he can catch sight of you own lips itching to break out in a smile. “What’s the report?” you ask, bringing your telescope up to your eye so that you can find what has caused the commotion on the ship.

“It seems as though we will be approaching the island within the next few hours,” Yeri starts. You’re finally able to train your sights on a mass of land. It is small, even taking the distortion from how far away it is into account. The ship could easily just go around it.

You lower your telescope.

“Sehun, can we just go around the island?” you question.

“No!” Sehun says loudly just as Junmyeon nearly screams the same. You look back and forth between them in confusion.

“We can’t go around it. We can’t,” Junmyeon’s voice shakes as he says it, eyes wide with fright.

Your mouth opens at his fear shrouded expression, but no words come out.

Sehun cuts in to save you the trouble of trying to figure out why your first mate looks so terrified. “The island may look small, but that's because that is the only part that you can see. There are rocks and reefs that stretch out for miles on either side of it. They’re just hidden enough to be invisible from a distance, but it’s nearly impossible to maneuver around them. The ship would crash if we tried to go around at this point.”

“There’s a passage in the middle of the island that is large enough for a ship to sail through without problem,” Chanyeol’s voice booms from behind you. Confusion paints your face as you try to figure out where the hell he appeared from.

You try to figure out the reliability of going directly through the island versus around it. “Is it safe?”

Chanyeol sighs heavily at your question. “No, but it’s faster than trying to dodge reef and rock and inevitably crashing by going around.”

You swallow at the prospect of your ship crashing from something as dumb and avoidable as coral. “Alright, so we’ll sail through the island. That’s fine; that was the initial plan.” You speak mainly to yourself, trying to reason with the part of you that fears this will end horribly. Junmyeon’s behavior, the conveniently placed passage in the middle of the island, it doesn’t bode well.

“Sehun, you can navigate it?”

“As long as it’s through the island and not around, I can get us through safely.”

“May Poseidon be merciful…”

~~~

The first tendrils of music begin to float around the ship once you have sailed an hour closer to the island. Isla de Sirena is still too far in the distance for music to logically be able to reach your ears.

The song is beautiful, tinkling and melodic. Alluring, but it makes your skin crawl regardless of the beauty of it. It’s haunting, the harmonies, the mix of voices.

It makes you a bit dizzy.

You climb down the stairs to the main deck and walk over to the side of the ship to peer into the water. For the music to be reaching you, the sirens must be closer to you than they seem. As you expected, you can see movement beneath the waves.

Squinting, you try to make out whether the movement is just that of normal fish or of mystical creatures trying to drag your ship to the depths. Whatever it is, is too quick for you to clearly see.

You’re yanked away from the railing with a force that makes you stumble backward over your own feet. You collide clumsily into a disturbingly familiar chest.

You can feel one hand on your wrist and the other curled around your shoulder.

“Stay away from the edge of the ship. If they catch sight of you then they can shift themselves into your lookalike,” Baekhyun says against you, voice vibrating in his chest against your back. You twist your head to look at the hand squeezing your shoulder.

Embarrassment floods your veins at the intimate contact and you shrug yourself out of his hold. He doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Keep away from the sides of the ship. We keep moving forward no matter what,” Baekhyun commands to your crew. Frozen in their spots, looks are thrown your way as if asking whether or not to follow his words.

You shrug. This isn’t your area of expertise. “You heard him, full sail ahead,” you call out. Your words snap everyone into action as members work to keep away from the edges of the ship while continuing to do their jobs.

It’s not long before the music gets louder, more insistent and the island is visible to the naked eye. It’s distracting, but you will not fall a fool to its melody. “Keep your minds clear! Do not trust anything that you may see outside of the Storm Chaser herself,” you shout as you walk around ensuring that things are going smoothly. You have to keep yourself busy to keep from listening too closely to the tune.

The call of the sirens starts to affect the members of your crew the closer the ship veers towards land. The younger crewmen are the most susceptible to the melody as their senses are blurred and beautiful images are projected in the waters. 3 members have to be forcefully dragged below deck as they’re caught, zombie-like, walking to the edge of the vessel hypnotized and willing to throw themselves into the sea.

They don’t seem to realize what’s wrong even as others try to explain to them that it’s just an illusion. You warned the crew ahead of time, but to see the siren song impacting your men so easily is frightening.

“Mom? Mom!?”

The music has dulled down to a faint buzz in the back of your mind, but you have a feeling that it must still be loud, if not louder, to others. Johnny struggles to restrain one of your newest boatswains, Lucas from jumping into the water. There are tears in the boy’s eyes as he screams out for his mother, eyes wide and hands reaching towards the waters. When you follow where he’s desperately trying to escape to with your eyes, you see a grotesque creature atop a rock peaking out of the ocean. It’s mouth is open in song, a grin so large on its face that it’s sharp teeth gleam in the light.

A siren.

Its skin is a shade of grey so dark that you dare liken it to a dark blue. Torn fins stretch between skinny fingers. Spikes made of its own bone protrude from its back and undulate with every note that floats from its mouth. You feel sick at the sight of it.

Lucas continues to scream towards the siren in anguish. Your heart hurts watching him look out at the monster with all the sadness, love, and regret you know that he had for his mother. You all know that his mother died earlier in the year, and that he hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye.

The sirens have already begun to resort to despicably low tactics.

Chanyeol runs over to help pull Lucas below deck as he thrashes against Johnny’s arms in an attempt to crawl overboard. You turn away, unable to watch the scene any longer. You know that with the two of them, they’ll be able to get Lucas safely below deck and calmed down.

Sehun is still at the hull, intensely focused ahead as he tries to safely keep the ship moving forward while trying to ignore the call of the sirens. As soon as the ship enters the passage that splits the island in half, the music stops.

You look around in confusion at the sudden silence, and only feel the feeling deepen at the sight of some of your crewman covering their ears as if they can still hear the singing.

You’re the only one who can suddenly hear nothing.

The rocks on the island sparkle like diamonds under the sunlight. The water that cascades down in miniature waterfalls tinkles pleasantly. The air feels crisp and clean, and if you were not aware that this is all meant to lower your guard, you would appreciate the beauty of the small paradise. A paradise or a well-disguised hell.

If you look beyond the shining rocks and the crystal clear waters, you can see signs of destroyed ships, shredded pieces of clothing, bones too similar to that of humans. Beneath it all is death. The end goal for the sirens is the death of you and your men. They’ll sing you to your demise.

Movement catches your eye from one of the rocks that overlooks the passageway. A woman with blonde hair and black eyes that pierce into your soul sits lazily overlooking your ship. She catches your eyes and a smile breaks out across her face. One dainty hand comes up to wave with nothing but a wiggle of delicate fingers.

You feel pulled into her bottomless gaze. It’s only when she stands up atop her rock that you realize she is naked save for a thin dress that seems to be made of water. The water moves with life, as if sentient around her body. It acts like some kind of clothing although it does nothing to cover her body.

She laughs and it chimes through the air like precious jewelry clinking together. You glare at her as she stretches out her muscles from above.

And then she jumps down from the cliff into the water below.

Like awakening from a spell, you snap out of your entrancement. Stricken by panic, you run off to find someone, anyone that you can to let them know of what you saw.  

Yixing is massaging his temples near the crew cabins when you catch sight of him and run up to him. You grab the front of his shirt tightly, frenzied. “I made eye contact with one of the sirens.”

“You what?!”

“I- Fuck I don’t know I wasn’t thinking. She didn’t…do anything to me…she jumped into the water though after. I think she was able to get a good look at everyone currently on deck. She jumped into the water I don’t know where she went,” you rush out. “If she manages to get aboard we are fucked. She could see everyone, and she definitely saw me.”

Yixing blanches. “Fuck…”

You swallow.

“Fuck!” He curses again. He looks around frantically at the members left above deck trying to ignore the pull of the sirens’ song. “Stay here. Stay up here; do not leave this deck. If they can transform into you now, there’s a better chance at catching them if we see two of you in one place, and this will be where they first appear,” he commands. “I’ll go inform Junmyeon and the rest of the crew about the one you saw.” Yixing rushes off and you stand in your spot unsure of what to do.

You can no longer go below deck or else you will put everyone’s safety in jeopardy. You’re a liability now.

All because of the blonde siren.

The song begins to fill your ears again and you almost want to laugh at the timing of it. It’s like they’re mocking you. Soft notes curl around your body and try to sway you towards the water.

You shudder violently and run up to Sehun.

“How much longer until we’ve cleared the island?”

“20 minutes if we keep moving without issue…as long as we can keep everyone aboard and safe,” he says through clenched teeth. His knuckles are disturbingly pale as he grips the wheel tightly and tries to maintain concentration.

So long as Sehun stays right where he is, things will be fine.

Just 20 minutes. You all can survive that.

You begin to wonder if the siren’s song has distorted the Atlantian song. Maybe that is why Junmyeon said that it was off earlier. The song may have been warning of distortion between the songs. He has to have some kind of cryptic advice or warning now that the music is audible to everyone on the ship.

You turn in circles in search for the black haired Atlantian. He’s nowhere to be seen above deck. Did he go below?

A splash shakes you from your thoughts. You turn in the direction of the noise, and then you hear the shouting.

Hesitantly you make your way toward the edge of the ship where the splashing and shouting has picked up volume.

You see Junmyeon thrashing wildly in the waters below.

Your blood goes cold.

“J-Junmyeon?” Your voice comes out weakly at the sight of him barely keeping himself afloat in the water. It has to be an illusion. You watch him struggle to keep his head above the water and your own body starts shaking in horror.

That can’t be Junmyeon. There’s no way that Junmyeon would fall overboard like that.

But the sound of his voice, the desperation in his tone as he screams out your name, that all sounds just like him.

The body in the water seems just like him.

But no one else seems to hear him. It’s only you.

That’s not him.

You pull yourself away from the sight of him.

Kyungsoo rushes by you and you reach out to stop him in his tracks. “Where’s Junmyeon?” you ask him worriedly.

He blinks and looks around the ship quickly. “I last saw him going below with Yixing,” he says with a frown. You nod and let go of his arm so that he can return to whatever he was running to do.

Trying not to let the sound of the false Junmyeon’s shouts trick you, you close your eyes and take a few steps away from the edge of the ship. It’s getting quieter, but the sound of his screams is still there.

Distracted, you bump into another body. You whirl around and come face to face with Baekhyun. You blink at him and all of a sudden the sound of Junmyeon yelling is gone.

Baekhyun looks at you with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you furrow your eyebrows and try to gather your thoughts, try to calm your racing heartbeat. The song of the sirens buzzes lightly in the back of your mind. “I thought that I heard Junmyeon fall overboard.”

Baekhyun frowns deeply and shakes his head. “Yixing took Junmyeon below deck. He said that he’d made eye contact with one of the sirens. Junmyeon didn’t want anyone to get confused and wanted to stay below to keep it clear where the real him is.”

You swallow at his words and turn to look back in the direction of where the fake Junmyeon had thrashed and called out for your help. Baekhyun grabs your arm and gently turns you away. “Hey, don’t fall for it. We have to keep going forward remember? That’s fake; that’s not Junmyeon,” he says while looking into your eyes.

You nod along to his words, but something in the pit of your stomach feels off. Something feels wrong.

If Junmyeon had gone below deck, he or Yixing would have told you. They would have told you the same way that Yixing went off to tell Junmyeon about what you saw.

Yixing told you to stay above deck after you made eye contact with that siren. Why would he take Junmyeon below deck if the same happened to him?

Baekhyun’s words feel off.

You look into his eyes, “You’re right.” You try to keep your tone even. “I’m going to go make sure that Junmyeon is alright then,” you say.

“No, you stay here. I’ll go check on him,” Baekhyun says quickly. He plasters on a smile to cover up how rapidly he decided to take the task upon himself.

It’s then that you know this is all wrong.

You shrug off the hand on your wrist and hold in a shiver. “I can do it,” you press on.

“I’ll go with you then!” he says. You give him a measured look. If not already looking for a break in the facade, you would have missed the way that the image of him wavers like a mirage in a desert for a split second. Sick rises in your throat.

This isn’t Baekhyun.

Your skin breaks out in goosebumps at the realization, but you try to maintain composure. You don’t want the siren to know that you’ve seen through her illusion.

“Okay, we can go together. Just give me one second,” you say. You spin on your heel and try your hardest not to let how unsettled you are show in your steps up to Sehun. At his side, you give Baekhyun a thumbs up and then pull Sehun down so that you can whisper in his ear. “Stop the ship right now,” you whisper quickly. You let go of him and ignore the look of confusion on his face in lieu of squeezing his arm as another silent “stop the ship”. Baekhyun watches your interaction closely but doesn’t mention it as you make it back to his side.

“Let’s go,” you say. Normally, you would grab Baekhyun’s wrist or arm to drag him along, but the thought of touching the siren makes your skin crawl, so you settle for walking in front and leading the way towards the ladder below deck. Your senses are on high alert as he follows silently behind you.

There’s no plan, but you know that you need to get rid of the siren as soon as possible. You just hope to the Gods that you’re right in your assumption and that it’s not actually Baekhyun following you.

It would really be fucked up if it’s the real him because of what you plan on doing next. You can’t think about it for too long.

You turn on your heel and with a quick inhale of breath to brace yourself –you shoot Baekhyun right in the chest.

He stumbles backwards, once, twice. From the wound, instead of warm red, out spills inky blue blood. Your hand wavers in relief, still pointed at who you thought was Baekhyun. The Baekhyun imposter looks down at the wound in shock, and then up with eyes shifting to full blackness. It releases a hiss and piercing screech that fills the ship; you fire another two shots right into its head. It falls to the ground with a thud. You watch it shift from what looked like Baekyun back into the ugly grey creature it is with fury.

“What the fuck!?” Kyungsoo shouts. You cock your head to the side and find that he watched the entire encounter. You exhale the breath you’d held in and lower your gun.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” you growl at Kyungsoo. He flinches at your tone and looks away from the body at your feet.

“He was helping calm Lucas down…he’s been in the crew cabins for a while now. Wha-”

You turn on Kyungsoo in the middle of his question in order to shout to anyone who can hear. Your fear from earlier has transformed into pure rage. They tricked you.

Fully and completely the sirens tricked you and now you know that what you saw earlier was the truth.

Junmyeon is no longer on the ship.

[1zashreena1]

Wedding Planning -15

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary:  Princess came home to a whole new set of anxieties. Murder Panther to the rescue via the restorative powers of dick. Unlike the dick, this one is short and sweet.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Come eating, the L word, criminal activities glossed over, relationship building, plus size woman+fit man, Anxiety, wedding planning comes with its own warning

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​​ ​ @symbiont13​​ ​ @nicke0115​​ ​​ @bunnykjm​​ ​ @rosee-sensuelle​​ ​ @girlpornparadise​​ ​ @mandoplease​​ ​ @heresathreebee​​ ​ @xxsteph-enrixx​​ ​ @jetiikad​​ ​ @joalsglasses​​ ​ @mutantcookiesecrets​​ ​ @demoncatstone​​ ​ @squidlywiddly87​​ ​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​​ ​ @poeedamerons​​ ​ @xxidontwikeitxx​  @kid-from-new-zealand​ @fleurfatale89​ @allalngthewtchtower​

You have to make some decisions. Like, a bunch.

Okay, make a list. 

You pull the big legal notepad off the bookshelf in your living room and meander around until you find your colored pens. Red for immediate, orange for middling, and green for long-term.

Parameters set, you begin The Listing.

It takes a couple of days, but you think you finally have everything accounted for that you can possibly imagine.

The long term column has vague, nebulous, theoretical problems written in dark green:

-Where will you live?

-Keep your job???

-TAKE HIS NAME?????????

-CONVINCE HIM TO RETIRE

Intermediate consists of things you two need to discuss, too:

-Ceremony?

     Where 

     What type

     Who invited

     When

-Honeymoon?

-Colors?

-Food (yum/lots plz)

-Flowers  eww no ->Alternative bouquet 

-People in ceremony???

And then things that need answered like, next week:

-MEET FAMILIES (panic)

-A Dress?

-??????? omg help

You're going to give yourself a panic attack if you keep looking at it. I'll just take it with me this weekend and hand the immediate section to him.

You feel a little better with a plan, even if it only consists of two steps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Diego is standing in the kitchen glaring at the espresso machine when Bastian drops you off at the penthouse.

You glance around, no Julio to be found, before you head over to him. Diego's left hand shoots out and he wiggles fingers at you, trying to grab you despite the twenty foot gap between your bodies. You snort, but its still adorable. 

Slotting in underneath his arm, you wind around him with a sigh. "Hi, baby. Whatcha doing?"

Brown eyes come down to you and he smiles widely. "Its not working. How was your trip?" His forehead descends and you rise on tiptoes to meet him. 

"Better now that I'm here." You whisper as your lips curl up in a pleased grin. Diego rubs his nose with yours before swooping down for a kiss. The goatee has gotten long enough that its now soft on your chin, but still tickly. Combined with his velvet lips and hot tongue, you almost experience sensory overload. High pitched noises escape your throat while you melt against him. Diego takes your weight with no effort and you don't hesitate to let him. When he finally pulls back you just have to chase him a little; you really, really like the facial hair.

When you finally slit eyes open he is grinning down at you like a cat that got the canary. He sounds so smug, "I should grow out the entire beard?" 

You lick your lips and consider the salt and pepper growth that occurred since you saw him last weekend. Your left eyebrow climbs with your own inquiry, "Do you want to live between my thighs?"

"Uh, yes…?" Diego answers what was apparently the stupidest question ever posed. Chocolate eyes sparkle at you as he fails to suppress a smirk. "What do you think the ring is about?"

Your guffaw is cut short when he tosses you up onto the counter and shoves both huge hands down the back of your pants to push them off. The jeggings stretch easily over your hips and Diego, ever efficient when it comes to getting some pussy, takes your thong with them in one swift motion. Bracing hands on those broad shoulders, you wiggle and shift and bend whichever way is necessary to assist. Never let it be said that you are not a team player.

Your left shoe hits the floor and as Diego switches to the right he asks breathlessly, "New?"

"Yeah." Your response is just as rushed as you grab at his hair.

"Pretty." He tosses the right shoe off towards the living room with this proclamation. 

Both big hands come up to your knees and spread your legs wide. "Well, thank yourself. I used the black Amex." You chuckle as you lean back on elbows.

Slowly, menacingly, promisingly, Diego rises over the lip of the counter between your legs with that shark smile. He purposely pitches his voice low to rumble, "Good girl."

Your insides liquefy as your back arches and your pussy clenches down on nothing. How the hell does he do that? You can feel yourself getting wet. Fleeting kisses and sharp little nips mark Diego's progress up the inside of your left thigh.

"Hmm." His breath ghosts over your center in the lightest of teases. "What is that method to train again? The treats instead of yelling?" He rubs those bristles you so love over your inner thighs with considerable force and it almost induces a seizure.

"P-postive reinforcement!" Your yelp is exceedingly high pitched. Oh fuck yes, reward me with tongue, I'm a good Princess. You're almost certain that your brain has melted, you have zero sense when it comes to this man.

Diego nips the very bottom of your right buttcheek, so close and yet way, way too far away. "Yesss," he hisses into the short hair just above where you need him most, "That's what its called." The feel of his goatee just barely brushing over your folds while he speaks has turned you into a gibbering mess.

"P-please, Diego. I did like you told me, I didn't even text to ask first, please please…" How he manages to break you down into a begging disaster so quickly is a mystery. Your hands curl into his hair, desperately trying to pull him closer.

"Mm hmm," his deep hum makes you quiver, memories of that sound being delivered straight to your sensitive bundle of nerves via the vehicle of his tongue drive you higher. The rough timbre is dark with desire when he speaks this time, "You were a very good girl. My pretty little Princess is learning well. Let Diego give you your reward."

The heat of his open mouth covering your entire vulva is stunning. Your shoulders fall to the countertop as you moan shamelessly, "Ohhh, yes baby." That sinfully amazing tongue pokes into your entrance then flattens out broadly to lap all the way up to your clit. "Yeah!" Your single breathy yelp is accompanied by a jerk of your wide hips. Diego presses hard and moans.

Your hands slap down on the countertop for leverage so you can press down on him. "Yes, yes. Oh my god, how is, your tongue, so hot??" Breath stuttering, your words are choppy. Your chest jumps each time he groans against you and Diego repeats it again, seemingly just to enjoy your reaction. He pulls off with an obscene slurp, Nonono come back! 

"The same way this pretty little pussy is always so tight." The dirty talk is all the warning you get as two thick fingers sink deep inside. It takes a moment to comprehend that the ringing in your ears is an uncomfortable noise emanating from your mouth. He pulls out slowly, making sure you feel every ridge and callus, all the textures, before pushing in again steadily. Each time he retreats your cunt clenches down, trying to hold on to the feeling of being filled. "Did you miss your Diego? Huh?"

There is no earthly reason anyone should be this fucking sexy.  

"Only, oh fuck, only when I'm ali-i-i-ive!" The confession ends in a squeal as he bottoms out and rubs your cervix. The cold counter is heating rapidly under your thrashing form. Just as you start to get accustomed to the sensation Diego ups the ante by closing lips over your clit and sucking. Your hips roll against him, he matches the rhythm of his hand with your movements expertly. Legs rising high and spreading wide, trying to give him as much room as possible to work. A broken chant is punched out of you with every thrust, "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah."

The disappointed whine you utter when he breaks the suction is cut off into choked silence by the focused licks he is now delivering. You bury both hands into his short hair and hang on for dear life. His beard rasps against your sensitive skin and the contrasting feelings drive you mad. These are the licks that push you higher, these licks mean business. 

Between the long, slow thrusts of his fingers and the never ending laving of your clit, everything is tightening up quickly. Your legs shake and your stomach trembles, you pull on his hair and Diego moans for you. You moan back, "Fuck. Yeah, baby. Just, just keep. Don't stop, please don't stop."

Because Diego is Diego, he doubles down on the pressure and goes even harder with the tongue. Your entire consciousness narrows down to the man between your legs working you over like its his life's mission to make you come on his face. Everything is clinching tighter and tighter. Tense and strung out taut, you call for him as he pushes you right up to the edge and straight over it.

"Diego, Diego. Baby, I- F-fuck, yes, yes. Love you, love you, I fucking love you, I love you." You realize that was aloud but can't be bothered to stop the babbling confession synchronized to the waves of your climax. Diego groans against your clit but keeps his fingers fully buried so you can clamp down on him in ecstasy. You ride it out knowing full well that he won't rush this, he loves to feel the effect he has on you. You have no idea how long it goes on, the agonizing pleasure slowly easing, but your back finally crashes down to the marble while you wheeze in exhaustion. 

Using the grip in his hair, you tug gently to pull him off. Looking down over your curves, you flush even more as you watch Diego lick his lips lewdly. I am living in my very own private porno. 

Movement further down catches your eye and you realize that this entire time he has been stroking himself with the hand not shoved inside you. His massive cock is already dark and dripping as it pokes out of open pants.

"Your turn." You utter as you reach for him. 

"No!" Diego barks and bats your hand away. Is he sick? Do I need to call 911? You're immediately concerned that he might be dying. "Lie back. Be still."

Okay, kinky motherfucker. Of course he has something in mind. You flop down as ordered and Diego moans with satisfaction. 

"Yes, good girl. Do as I command and let Diego come all over you, pretty little Princess." He stares down at you with eyes black in arousal. His mouth hangs open to pant and his brows are drawn together in concentration. Swiping precome off the head of his dick, Diego reaches up to offer it. You lick with no hesitation as he rams those same fingers that were just up your pussy into your mouth and practically down your throat. "Suck."

With a moan you do exactly what he wants, your eyes closing in pleasure from the combined tastes of him and yourself. You don't have to put on a show when you enjoy this so very much. Your tongue covers every centimeter of his index and middle fingers, suckling strongly to get every last drop. Diego whines at the sight.

"Fuck. Yes. Princess. My Princess. Diego's perfect little Princess." His voice is rough and rattling, you can tell from how harshly he fists his cock that he is very close. The sight of two of your favorite parts of him together, his hand and his dick, makes you writhe.

You wrap your left hand around his thick forearm and the glint of your diamond ring catches his eye. His fingers drop out of your mouth to hold your jaw ever so tenderly. You decide to give him that last little nudge.

"Baby," You breathe, he pries his eyes away from the ring to meet yours. You pitch your voice low and sultry,  "Come for your Princess, my Murder Panther."

Diego's expression crumples and his hips snap forward twice as he comes with a quiet roar. "Ahhh, sí sí. Yessss." Its fascinating to watch; this big, powerful, dangerous man losing control over you. You absolutely love it. 

He paints your stomach white with come, squeezing the last little bit out and then slapping both hands down the counter to gasp. Before you can reach for those shoulders to pet him into aftercare, Diego dives down to lap up his own mess.

"Holy fuckin' shit that's hot." You are right back to the edge just like that. His soft tongue scoops up the gleaming liquid and you can literally see him swallowing it. You jump when fingers brush your labia but sigh with approval when they sink deep into you again. Diego, now finished with your stomach, comes back up to take your mouth. 

This is a whole new level of obscene: Sucking his own come off of his tongue while he finger fucks you to another orgasm. The mental image of what you two must look like defiling the kitchen counter is enough to make you tighten around him. The rapid, forceful thrusting of his thick fingers sends you careening into climax while moaning into his mouth. Pussy trembling around him and hips jerking, you hang on tight to his biceps until every wave of pleasure ebbs away. You flop back down and Diego collapses on top of you.

"Fuck. If that, if that's what I get for spending your money. Then I need to fucking splurge more often." You can barely string words together. 

Diego purrs.

Its now forty minutes later and you manage to troubleshoot the espresso machine.

"Its unplugged." You murmur, pointing lazily. 

"Mmmph." Diego moans from his position face down in your cleavage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A brief debate on showering occurred, but a motion to nap on the sectional was introduced and unanimously ratified almost immediately. 

When you wake up later the only light in the penthouse is supplied by the neighboring skyscrapers. Curled up on your right side, Diego is spooned up behind you with his beard velcroed into your hair and the fingers of his left hand are laced with yours around the diamond ring. The sight makes you both happy and anxious. 

"Baby?" You breathe. Diego shifts behind you, then yawns hugely. It even sounds adorable, you smile to yourself.

"Que pasa?" His voice is rough from sleep and you shiver. "You're stiff. What's wrong, Princess?"

"I have some notes we need to discuss. Its not bad!" Rushing to reassurance, you move to sit up. He releases your hands but strokes down your back as you stand. Bare feet pad across the rug as you go back to your bag and retrieve the notepad. Diego blinks when you turn on a lamp but waves you back into his embrace. 

"What is troubling my Princess?" He rumbles as you wiggle around and get situated in his lap. You present the immediate list of issues and give him time to read the few items. He chuckles at you, "Let's start from the bottom, yes? I will help." He mimes crossing it off the list.

"Yeah, alright." You giggle. "But the family thing. You know my parents are chomping at the bit. I'm the last girl they get to marry off, its a big deal or something." Your eyes roll as you flap your hand around. 

"How much do you want them involved?" Diego presents something you hadn't considered yet.

"Huh. I. Wait a sec." He props his chin in his hand while you consider. You're very distracted by the lazily blinking Murder Panther under you. "Okay," settling hands on your thighs, you push through the anxiety, "I had assumed they were not paying for it."  Careful watching shows Diego rolling his eyes at you.

"Of course not. Don't be silly." He scoffs quietly. 

Yeah, duh. You can feel terror bubbling up and you squash it ruthlessly. "Well in that case, almost none. We'll make all the decisions. They'll be allowed to give opinions or whatever, but no control." That does make it a little easier.

"No artistic license to the people who created you. Ballsy. I like that." Diego is nothing if not encouraging of you. His expression of mock impression makes you gigglesnort. Then he throws you another curveball of an offer, "Do you want a wedding planner?" 

Everything stops for a moment before you breathe, "Fuck." That never even occurred to me.

Big fingers dip into your hair and turn so you face him fully. Diego is grinning from ear to ear. "Did I crash Fiance Princess OS?"

You nod faintly. "I… never even considered that. I don't come from a background where people do that, you know?" 

Shrugging one shoulder at you, Diego 'hmm's thoughtfully. "I did not suggest it sooner because you like planning. What is everything that needs to be planned?" His face turns mildly horrified at your sudden flailing.

"EVERYTHING! YOU HAVE TO PLAN EVERYTHING!" You most definitely did not have control of your own volume setting just now. "So, like, the venue, the date, the wedding party, the clothing, the food, decorations, seating arrangements, guest lists, ugh, fucking flowers. I do not want flowers! Oh, shit, music? Oh my god, everyone is going to be offended by my musical choices at some point." You facepalm and then drop the entire setup down into your lap, too, for good measure.

Diego pokes your arm with the corner of the notepad and you reach to take it from him without looking.

He snatches it back and tosses it over the couch and into the kitchen where it lands on the floor with a slap.

 "Fuck it. We can elope."

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (27)

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry about how long this chapter took to update. Taking on master’s classes on top of work has been a rough transition. The majority of this chapter had been planned and typed a long time ago, but it just took me ages to organize it, detail it, clean it up, and fluff it with a fork. For those of you who have contacted recently, (and I probably have yet to respond) this chapter is for you. Without your encouragement, who knows how much longer this chapter would have taken.

Forgive me. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

Chapter 27: Confirmation

Sakura had fully intended on eavesdropping on Sasuke’s conversation with Satou; in fact, it was the only reason that Sakura had allowed the interaction to transpire between her patient and her teammate. After Sasuke had closed the door firmly behind her, Sakura had walked heavily down the hallway so her footsteps could be heard. Her next step was to take the stairs, walk silently up two floors, and listen in by opening the window directly above Satou’s. Sakura had noted that Satou’s patient room window had been cracked open. Surely her ninja skills would be well-adapted to a simple eavesdropping.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, as Sakura walked down the hall, she noted that her breathing was becoming short. Her chest was tightening considerably, a feeling that she dismissed at first to anxiety at the current situation. When she paused to consider it, Sakura tried to swallow past her itchy throat. A terrifying realization came over Sakura has she glanced down at her hands that held the freshly pulverized Ashuwa.

Shit.         

Sakura covered the mortar, sprinted down the remainder of the hallway, and took a right. She held tightly to the Ashuwa despite the situation; she couldn’t afford to sacrifice what they had acquired in her state of panic. Sakura tried her best to remember the hospital’s layout; there was a drug storage room on every level, so thankfully Sakura wouldn’t have to take stairs in her compromised situation. Turning another corner, Sakura was relieved to finally stumble up to the door marked “薬” for medication. Placing the mortar of Ashuwa on the ground, Sakura managed to focus through her shortness of breath and perform the sign of the ram to channel her chakra to her palm. Placing it on the center of the door, Sakura nearly stumbled as the door received her chakra signature and swung open to grant her access to the room.

Sakura’s vision began to blur as she shuffled through the drawers and cabinets. She could barely read the itemized labels of the stored items. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. She felt lethargic and her throat was swelling quickly. She should have taken Mako’s warning more seriously. He had told her of the drug’s disuse in the medical environment due to many allergic reactions to it. This was what she had been testing earlier when she picked a generous pinch of Ashu from the ground and placing it in her mouth; however, her and Mako both had gotten distracted by the issue of Satou.

Sakura cursed at herself for being careless but felt confident in her approach. If only she could find the medicine. She narrowed her focus to the vials on the top shelf and coughed violently as she reached for one. Stumbling into the shelf resulted in several of them busting onto the ground. After locating the blue tagged bottle labeled “adrenaline,” Sakura threw open cabinet after cabinet until she found the drawer of packaged syringes. She was choking now, a fish out of water and she aimed the needle into the top of the bottle; her hands shook as she waisted even more time trying to draw the medicine into the plunger.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke was trying to outwalk Mako, who was smiling kindly and attempting to make small talk as they quickly made their way down the hall from Satou’s room. Sasuke thought if he could just stride quickly enough, Mako might take the hint and part ways with him.

Sasuke frowned at Mako’s prattling of, “I have to admit. I was concerned with the whole genjutsu approach, but I think that it might be pretty effective. That was brilliant!”

Sasuke stopped his break-neck pace and narrowed his eyes at the medic, scrutinizing him carefully. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” asked Mako innocently, crossing his arms behind him.

Sasuke debated Mako for a second. Here was a skilled shinobi of medicine, an assistant to his friend, and Sakura addressed him casually. This trip was the first occasion that Sasuke had ever met him, yet Mako recognized Sasuke’s attempt at genjutsu before he had even performed it. Perhaps he was knowledgeable of the sharingan; many people were. It was Sasuke’s past of constantly being targeted that had the Uchiha wary. Was this the reason Sasuke was inclined to distrust him, or was it the fact that Sakura was involved?

Sasuke clarified. “I want to know who you are and what you want.”

Mako laughed and smiled nicely. “Well, I am a medic ninja here at the Suna hospital. I have been appointed to assist Sakura-san during her stay with us. Kankuro was pretty adamant about it.”

“Hn.” Sasuke responded before walking forward again. Mako sped to catch up.

“Honestly,” he continued, “Sunagakure owes a lot to Sakura-san. You have probably heard this before, but we have advanced due to her and the Leaf’s medical supervision and instruction. We are something in her debt.”

Sasuke didn’t respond. Perhaps that was all there was to it. Sasuke supposed it made sense that Gaara and Kankuro would assign the most ambitious learner and fellow medicinal expert as Sakura’s assistant. Sunagakure wanted to take advantage of every lesson and tip available. Sakura’s discipline and dedication to the medical practice made her share a common interest with the professionals here. Not everyone always had some double meaning to their actions like most ninja in the shinobi world.

As Sasuke and Mako rounded the corner to the left, they paused as several people ran past them in the opposite direction, back toward the center of the third floor. One man who bumped into Mako’s shoulder turned to look at him in recognition, jogging backwards. “Code 10. Haruno-san.”

“Shit!” Mako cursed, chasing after the man who spoke. Sasuke didn’t know what “Code 10” meant, but to see a panicked response in connection to the name “Haruno” had Sasuke quickly following.

“What is it?” he demanded, matching Mako’s stride this time.  

“Anaphylaxis” Mako said breathlessly as they rounded the final corner and nearly collided with several attendants outside a small room in the hallway. Someone was kneeling just outside the door and Sasuke couldn’t make out the questions they were asking before until he began to make his way through with Mako right on his heels.

When he came in line with the entrance, Sasuke froze. Sakura was on her back, broken glass surrounding her on a messy floor. A medic was kneeling down beside her and removing a syringe from her hand. “We need to get her into one of the rooms. Now.” Sasuke’s heart was racing as someone wheeled a gurney past him. Mako began pulling him away from the entrance to which Sasuke almost shrugged off.

Sakura’s pink head was closest to the door so Sasuke couldn’t get a good look at her face until they began lifting her onto the gurney and wheeled her past him. To Sasuke’s great relief, his medic friend was fully alert despite the hives across her face and swelling lips. When making eye contact with him, she raised her hand and waved awkwardly.

“Hey.” She said past swollen lips.

“Hey?!” Sasuke responded, irritation quickly replacing his concern. Was she serious?! Mako let out a surprised laugh at her casual greeting. Sasuke ignored him completely and began tailing the gurney as it rolled away with her.

“What the hell happened?” he asked her with pointed annoyance. After failing to mumble past her tomato mouth, Sasuke shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“I’ll explain,” Mako said from the other side of the swiveling table. Sasuke spent the next several minutes listening to Mako explain a basic understanding of anaphylaxis and staring disbelievingly at Sakura as they unloaded her onto a bed. They began to hook her up to an IV and other machinery that would monitor her pulse and blood pressure.

Mako continued his explanation, “Antihistamines are what comes next. Luckily, she responded to the epinephrine and doesn’t need intubation. We’ll have to monitor her for a few hours just to make sure she doesn’t have another episode.”

Sakura was nodding her blistered head in agreement at everything he said. Sasuke just glared at her.

“Why did you eat a plant you knew was toxic?” he asked crossly. She shrugged her shoulders, the only response she could really make at the moment.

“I should have stopped you, Haruno-san.” Mako bowed. “It is all my fault.”

Sakura began shaking her head to dismiss Mako’s apology. Then she began to gesture for Sasuke to come over to her bedside. When he was close enough, Sakura pointed toward his hand.

“What?” he asked, looking down at it. My hand? What about it? He sure wasn’t going to hold her hand if that was what she was implying. Especially not in front of anyone.

A word made it past her lips but Sasuke didn’t understand it. “Hn?”

“Rath,” she repeated, still pointing. “Da ya hath a rath?”

“Oh,” Mako exclaimed. “You were handling the Ashuwa earlier, Sasuke. Do you have a rash on your hand?”

Ah. Sasuke’s hand was partially gloved except for his fingertips, which were unmarred. It had been approximately 30-45 minutes since Sasuke had even touched the plant. Sakura had sampled the herb 10 minutes before that, so it was too early to tell if Sasuke would have a similar reaction. He didn’t have a rash on his fingertips though.

Another physician handed Mako a familiar mortar and removed his disposable gloves after touching it. Mako immediately pinched a piece out of it and offered it to the Uchiha.

Sasuke responded with a glare as Mako continued to hold it out.  “You’re not suggesting I eat that?”

“We need to make sure that you don’t develop a similar reaction, especially if you plan on using the chakra pills that Sakura is making.”

Sakura was mutely nodding in agreement and Sasuke annoyingly spat out toward her, “Why? You want me to end up looking like you?” Her nodding turned to shaking.

She followed with, “He’th ight. Eat wow you ah here.”  Sasuke scoffed and blinked in disbelief at her communication efforts. How was she even talking?!

This was an absolute lunatic idea. She wanted the BOTH of them in hospital beds in this village while Gaara was away handling potential psychos that were after them? It was already a concern that she was incapacitated; Sasuke sure as hell wasn’t going into anaphylaxis too by choice.

“I’ll wait until you’re better,” he answered, shooing Mako’s hand away from his face. As he did so, Sasuke pointed at the door, ordering Mako to just go and check on Satou’s kid. Mako blinked at him in confusion before taking the hint and exiting with that same excuse.

When the silence grew thick between them, Sasuke took a casual stance against the wall next to Sakura’s bedside.

“Ya are wathing time,” Sakura began, looking guilty despite her swollen mouth as she tucked her hands beneath the covers and looked around at nonexistent people in the room; anywhere but at him. She was right. He was wasting time, and Sasuke mentally shook himself as he realized his indifference to that. He was trying to remind himself of his goal but in that moment, Sasuke’s feelings were outweighing that purpose.

He turned his back and peered out the small window at the darkening sky. He glanced back at her briefly before turning back to the window. “Are you okay?”

There wasn’t a reply which had the Uchiha worried and he turned to see her wide-eyed expression at his question. The face Sakura was making looked as if Sasuke had grown two heads. “I mean,” he added quickly, “with a mouth like that, it looks difficult to breath.”

She immediately covered her mouth and frowned at him, obviously embarrassed at his words. “I ah fine!” she shouted in embarrassment into her fingers and turned her head. Sasuke resisted the urge to smirk.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

After the administration of the antihistamine, Sakura didn’t wait long before she began removing her own IV. She felt bad for the time that had been wasted today when she was supposed to be making the food pills. Sakura was just relieved that the Ashu had been tested before she gave Sasuke a drug that could potentially kill him.  

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked as she removed the monitor and turned off the flatlining machine before anyone came in at the sound. “They said it would be best to stay the night.”

“I’m ah do-ter” she told him. Yes, Sakura would have advised the same thing to her patients, but she was out of danger now and she felt anxious despite her drowsiness. She was troubling Sasuke enough by accompanying him on his mission. She didn’t want to get in his way; she was supposed to be making things easier.

Sasuke scoffed at her dismissive, mumbled declaration as she stood from the bed. She blinked heavily and managed to stand upright. It would still take a little bit of time for her to completely pass out from the side effects, so Sakura figured the time she had left awake could be spent productively.

The medic immediately went over to the cabinets and pulled out disposable gloves and a mask from the drawer. The mask would serve two purposes: 1) protect her from inhaling the Ashuwa as she worked and 2) hide her ridiculous “tomato” mouth as Sasuke referred to it. Ugh. Sakura could die from embarrassment.

“What are you doing now?” Sasuke grumbled irritably, following her as she moved. She immediately headed over to the mortar on the cabinet and pinched some of the yellow herb, skin protected from the substance thanks to the gloves.

“Eat.” She stated plainly. They couldn’t proceed further if Sasuke was likely to have a similar allergic reaction. Sakura would have to scrap their entire progress by disposing of the food pill batch. She would be back to square one and they would have to start all over by finding a new foundational herb with the correct properties to achieve the correct results.

“Forget it,” the Uchiha deadpanned before making to head for the door. Sakura caught hold of his hand, stumbling in the process and taking a hard fall on her knee. She winced visibly. That would bruise later. Sasuke immediately turned and helped her up and Sakura thanked her mask for hiding her blushing cheeks as well.

With the same hand Sasuke had offered, Sakura turned his palm up and placed the Ashuwa in his cupped fingers. “No time.”

Sasuke glared at her for what seemed like several minutes before reluctantly dumping it down his throat. They both knew he had to for his own sake.

Sakura nodded before trashing her gloves and retrieving a new pair. She couldn’t risk leaving traces around the hospital and anyone else coming into contact with the pollen if it was responsible for anaphylaxis. Mako had said that it was such a common reaction that they had stopped using it altogether.

Sakura halted in her steps, considered her plan, and decided to grab the entire box of disposable gloves. She handed Sasuke the mortar.

Sasuke gave her an expression that radiated annoyance but somehow was miraculously completely blank. If she could speak clearly in this moment, Sakura would have asked him how he managed that.

“Fowwo” she murmured through her mask-covered lips, pairing the word with a beckoning wave. “We’ll tesh your weaction why we wait.” She was shuffling out the door before Sasuke had the chance to say anything more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke trailed his teammate from the room, carrying the mortar of Ashuwa he had ground up earlier that day. This was one of the few times in his life that Sasuke somewhat regretted his decision to refuse the artificial limb that Tsunade had made for he and Naruto. Sakura was walking with one arm against the wall for support and Sasuke’s one and only hand was currently occupied.

It was well after dark now and many of the staff members were busy attending overnight patients, so they weren’t stopped by anyone as Sakura found her way back to the medicine room, which was now cleaned of broken glass and everything back in its space. She reached up and grabbed several bottles of adrenaline and then dug through the drawer for syringes.

“Sakura,” Sasuke began as she dropped some of the things she was holding onto the floor. “You need rest. We can finish this later.”

“We hafe to wait for weaction anyway. Might as well make the pills.”

“I feel fine.” Sasuke reassured her. It was true. Time had passed enough for his fingertips to develop a rash if there was going to be a topical reaction. He had yet to show signs from consumption.

Sakura strode past him again, this time walking backwards to face him. He could make out a smile beneath her mask which somewhat irked the Uchiha. She seemed awfully cheery despite nearly dying from anaphylaxis. Sasuke concluded that it had to be the medicine making her drowsy.

“Turn around before you fall,” he grumbled. She laughed as she began to walk slowly up the stairs. He hurried up behind her and offered her his elbow which she took thankfully despite his huffed “So annoying.” Her laugh was her only response.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura was practically nodding off as she watched Sasuke mix and prepare the batch of ingredients for the food pills. She felt relieved at finally seeing headway as Sasuke rolled the batter into 1-inch circular doses according to her instructions and placed them in the hospital’s oven.  Sakura had tried to do so herself, but Sasuke had insisted she sit down to avoid screwing them up and risking their progress. Sakura allowed him to take the reins, praying desperately that the food pills would turn out and serve their purpose after such a hassle.

“Sasuke,” she whispered, immediately touching her lips behind the mask as she noticed the decrease in swelling. The ice Sakura had retrieved from icebox was doing its job.

“Hm?” he answered, trashing the latex glove he used to protect his skin and replacing his own. He turned to her then in the dim light, but Sakura couldn’t make out his expression because the only light in the room was a lamp over the counter workspace behind him. There was a shadow concealing his features and Sakura was too tired to try to make them out.

A lot easier now that her lips were shrinking, Sakura asked, “How are you? Any shortness of breath?”

“I’m fine,” he stated simply.

“Good,” she replied, thanking that ridiculous Uchiha blood of his for not reacting to the Ashuwa like her’s had. How ironic, Sakura thought, that even Sasuke’s genetics seemed to be working for him even in this circumstance. How superior he must feel.

Reclined across the small seating bench in the corner, Sakura placed her chin on her chest and inhaled the gentle night breeze that was coming from the opened window. It seemed to be the first night that the sand wasn’t trying to shatter the glass; to be honest, Sakura was surprised that the hospital windows even opened. Perhaps they were high enough on the fourth story to avoid the sand barrage.

Sasuke came to stand before her and Sakura blinked sleepily up at him in an antihistamine induced haze.

“Sleep,” the Uchiha before her ordered. “I’ll wake you when they’re done.”

Sakura wanted to argue that she could manage to stay awake for another 20 minutes while the chakra pills roasted, but she wasn’t that confident in her ability to do so. At most, she could manage maybe 5 more minutes if she concentrated hard enough. She wanted to ask Sasuke about the conversation he had with Satou.

“Sit with me,” she said, but it sounded more like a question. There was a minute of silence as Sasuke observed her. The bench wasn’t roomy, but Sakura was too drowsy to be apprehensive about their proximity. Sasuke must have not been either, because he sat and exhaled when he did so. Perhaps he was tired too.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

Sasuke tried not to lean away from her as she settled into his side. He cursed her medicated self for such confidence in a small, darkened space. He counted down the time in his head; he would only have to stay seated here for 17 more minutes. For some reason, that time seemed both entirely too long and entirely too short.

“Satou,” Sakura began, reaching up to take off the medical mask on her face. Sasuke tried not to smirk at the lips that were still puckered despite having minimized in size. He blinked past the image to focus on her words.

“Hn,” he responded sourly, thinking of the man whose name had just been dropped between them like a heavy, unwanted stone. Sasuke didn’t particularly feel like talking about that man. He had, had enough of Satou for one day.

“How did it go?” his teammate probed politely despite being nosey.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not wanting Sakura to find out about too many details. How would she react if she knew he had used his Sharingan on him? Probably not well. Sakura would continue to dig for more specifics if Sasuke didn’t bring an end to the topic promptly. “His son needs to be sent to Konoha.”

Sakura nodded, not seeming too surprised at Sasuke assessment. Perhaps she had been thinking similarly. “Thank you for talking to him.”

It wasn’t much of a talk, but Sasuke wasn’t going to tell her that, so he just responded again with a finalizing “Hn.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but jump when Sakura’s fingers touched his right hand. “Sasuke,” she began, almost in sleepy inquiry as she brushed his palm with her thumb and index. There was hopefulness in her voice and Sasuke cursed her medication again for her damn self-assurance.

“I..” she began, but Sasuke cut her off before she continued. Sasuke was almost absolutely certain that he knew which words would come next.

“Shh,” he replied, leaning comfortably into her side as his answer to her unspoken confession. “Just sleep.”

After a few breaths, and when Sakura’s head nodded onto his shoulder, Sasuke scooped up her hand into his, finding the courage to splay her fingers with his own and fasten them into place. Even when he would let her go in 15 minutes, Sasuke would lock the moment into his heart to last him the rest of his life.  

. . . . . . . . . . . .

When he counted down to the last second in his mind, Sasuke counted a few extra seconds. And then a few more. He thought about letting the doses of chakra pills burn to a crisp in the oven, but he decided against it, reluctantly releasing Sakura’s hand and pulling away from her heavy head.

Making sure that Sakura wouldn’t wake, Sasuke silently rose, turned off the oven and retrieved the pills from inside. He placed them on the counter quietly and turned to lean against the counter. He watched Sakura’s sleeping form for a few minutes, considering if he should wake her as he promised or let her sleep longer. What was the possibility of sitting beside her and stealing a few moments more?

Sasuke knew he was playing a dangerous game. Tomorrow, the Uchiha would test the chakra pill nearby and he and Sakura both were aware of what would happen after that. With the issue of his chakra reserves addressed, he would return to the desert to attempt cross-connecting dimensions again. They both realized Sasuke couldn’t waste any more time.

And with that thought, Sasuke’s stern resolve slipped. He would distance himself later, he thought. He would put the space back between them tomorrow. Tonight, Sasuke wanted to be next to Sakura.

He sat back down beside her and softly took up her hand again.  Just for a little while longer.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura woke in the middle of the night from the pain in her arched neck. She blinked past sleep and realized that she was folded into Sasuke’s side with her knees tucked and Sasuke’s head leaning against hers. Not only that, but Sakura froze as she realized her hand was entwined with Sasuke’s between them. The moment was fragile, and Sakura almost cried of joy and then heartbreak as it shattered when Sasuke responded to her shifting.

The weight of his head on hers lifted and Sakura tried not to grab desperately at him to keep him from moving. Instead, Sakura pivoted her eyes to his as his sleep faded and realization appeared on his face.

Sasuke released her hand and stood hurriedly, saying nothing despite how Sakura’s heart wanted answers. She wanted to know if this moment was genuine or if she had been the one to hold onto him in her sleep. Sakura wanted to believe desperately that Sasuke had allowed himself to be transparent for just a moment and had secretly revealed his true feelings for her by holding her as she slept. Had that been the case? Was she being too optimistic? This wouldn’t be the first time their hands had touched. Had he been supporting her as a friend, or did he feel something more? She had to know.

“Sasuke,” she began, but he cut her off for the second time that night.

“Good. You’re awake. Let’s go.” He declared, hastily placing the finished chakra pills in an open travel container on the counter.  

Sakura stood then, heart racing and adrenaline pumping as she worked up the courage to come up behind him as he worked. She wasn’t going to confess this time. She was going to ask Sasuke if he had been confessing to her while she slept?

“Do you… love me?”

Sakura was almost certain that he stopped breathing altogether as he paused his task. The Uchiha took a minute to compose himself before exhaling. “When are you going to stop that?”

The statement was meant to be cold, but the fact that it came out so desperately low gave Sakura a rare feeling of hope despite the words. “When are you?” she responded calmly in a whisper.

“What?” he asked incredulously, finally turning to her.

She gradually took the last few steps between them and stood carefully in front of him. “When are you going to stop pretending that you have no feelings for me?”

Sakura expected a scoff, a ridicule, but what she got in return was painful fear in Sasuke’s usually expression-less eyes.

It was true, she realized. Sasuke did have feelings for her. There had been so many signs, but Sakura had been unsure about all of them until this very moment. But what had just passed between them was confirmation. Sakura almost lost her breath at the realization.

“You’re mistaken,” finally came the blunt retort, but it was too late.

Sakura was already closing the inches between them. Her fingers were already brushing his cheeks as she brought his face to hers. She hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to pull away from her. But Sasuke barely took a breath before Sakura touched her lips to his.

[bittysvalentines]

You Can’t Hear My Soul

From: @eatallofthepumpkinthings

To: @corgiberus

Rating: T

Tags: Soulmate AU, Angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of loneliness, mentions of defamation of character, mentions of paparazzi being rude, OC, ASL/RSL/Sign language, NHL Chowder, NHL Whiskey, Open Ended, mentions of Zimbits

Note: Sorry I can't write fluff! I hope you like it anyways.

Alexei wakes up groggy. The night before he'd tried to stay up until midnight, his heart racing with anticipation, yet he'd fallen asleep at some point. As soon as he is awake enough to realize why he's so groggy, his heart starts running again and his face splits with a grin. Immediately he feels for that space in his head where the connection to his soul mate should exist. When he finds it, nestled just behind his eyes, his heart sinks.

There is wind blowing past his ears and he knows he won't be able to hear his soulmate. He'd hoped that they'd fall into that small statistical chance and have the same birth date. He knew it was unrealistic, but he still had hoped to hear his soulmate. He often stayed up at night wondering if their voice would be airy and melodic or deep in soothing. Would they be Russian like him, or would they be foreign and the translation weird and distressing. Of course, it wouldn't matter if his soulmate was foreign, living half way across the world even – but it would be so much easier if they were Russian. If they were, then the likelihood of them being close by would be higher. They could be together sooner.

His daydreaming didn't matter now. The connection was open. He could tell his soulmate all about himself and maybe they'd come and find him before their 18th birthday. Even if they didn't come and find him – he had to stop himself . There were only 24 hours in the day and he'd already wasted several sleeping.

“HI! I'M ALEXEI!” He shouts into the connection. His cheeks heat. Why am I shouting? I'm going to sound desperate. he thinks.

He tries to reign himself in, but he knows its going to be difficult. “Uh sorry for shouting. I'm just really excited to talk to you. I've been dreaming about this day for a long time. I can't hear you now. But I'm sure in no time I will be able to hear you. We will talk non-stop on your birthday. I just know it.”

He stays up until midnight telling his soulmate everything about his life.

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

Months pass and Alexei's hopes fade. He throws himself into his hockey career again. His father is right, if he's going to transition to the NHL he should do it now. He's been working with agents and talking to teams. By the end of the regular NHL season he's secured his spot with Falconers.

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

Nervousness sits in the pit of his stomach everyday. Without any games to play, he refocuses his energy into learning English. It's profoundly frustrating. After a particularly disastrous lesson, he decides to take out his feelings the only way he knows how – on the ice. He's laces up and heads onto the iced over pond behind his family home.

Who knows when I'll get to do this again, he sulks.

He's skating laps, pushing himself as fast as he can. Suddenly he's tripping over himself. There are words flashing behind his eyes. As he falls forward, he becomes aware that the room where his connection lives is open and the wind rushing past his ears is just from the fall.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

“Are you awake? I hope I'm not waking you.”

“I'm really excited to talk with you Alexei.”

As he catches his breath and tries to push up off his knees, his mind is racing. After a few minutes he realizes he hasn't said anything back and he probably should do that.

“OH, HELLO... Hi. Uh... Happy birthday!” He replies awkwardly.

“Thank you! I'm so happy to finally talk to you.”

Alexei is excited but he is so very confused.

“Why can't I hear you?” he asks.

“WHAT?” his soulmate replies.

“It's like I'm seeing your words. I... I don't hear them. Is there something wrong?” Is he sick? He's heard that colds can sometimes mess up these conversations. Or maybe it's because of his concussion. He hopes that that isn't the case. Concussions have all sorts of long term affects, and in his line of work, its likely he'll have another if not more.

Suddenly he feels a door close. He frantically feels behind his eyes for that space where his soulmate just was but its gone. The void is overwhelming and he's back on his knees. What just happened?

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

Alexei's 19th birthday couldn't come sooner. He's managed to stay up all night this time. Midnight finds him sitting up straight as a board, staring out the window of his senior teammate's guest bedroom. The city lights are stunning. He feels the connection open and he's speaking as fast as he can. Every question that's swirled in his head for the last few months spews out of him. He gets silence in reply and in just a few minutes the door is slammed closed, the connection lost. He cries himself to sleep.

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

When he decides to put his mind to something, Alexei always manages to see it through. Going into the NHL, learning English, making friends with his teammates, becoming rookie of the month – he set his mind to those things and he did them. He makes his mind up to be as positive as he can about his soulmate. He may not know why they've hung up on him, why they've not talked to him, why they haven't tried to find him, but he knows he can't control what they do. He can only control himself.

With his mind set on positive, when his soulmate's birthday comes back around, he keeps it casual and light. He talks about his life. He talks about hockey. He talks about his teammates and friends. Every birthday flies by like this. His soulmate never speaks, but the connection stops closing right away.

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

A few years go by. The Falconers win the cup. But his soulmate never talks to him.

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

There is a movie playing on the plane. It was a tough game against the Capitals and every muscle in Tater's body is beat. He thinks that the movie is a romantic comedy, but he isn't really sure. The actors all seem to be mumbling or talking too fast. Lulling his head to the side, he asks Poots to translate again for the 5th time.

“Dude, Aren't you paying attention?”

“Yes, I'm just very tired.” He gives him his best puppy dog eyes.

Poots smiles. Tater sees a light go off in Poots head and suddenly Poots is climbing over him and stumbling towards the front of the bus.

“Hey who has the remote.”  Someone produces the remote up front. Tater watches Poots struggle with it. Eventually Snowy gets up, rather reluctantly, and helps Poots with whatever he was doing.

When Poots returns, Tater turns back to the movie and is amazed. There are words steaming at the bottom of the screen, highlighted in black, and in Russian.

“Now I don't have to translate.” Poots says victoriously. Tater nodes dumbly. This is what my soulmate's voice looked like.

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

Its been awhile since he's thought this much about his soulmate when it wasn't his or their birthdays. Stewing on this new information is easy. Making any sense of it, that isn't easy. He tries to Google for some answers but he must not be using the right search words because none of the search results make much sense to him. Once again he finds himself wondering if there is something wrong with him.

After a couple of weeks, he decides to talk about it. He trusts his friends, and the old guys have worldly experience. Maybe one of his teammates will know something that can help.

He's hanging out with the guys, having a few beers when he musters up the courage to bring it up. They're all silent for a few minutes. It unnerves Tater. Am I the only one this has ever happened to?

“Maybe they speak a different language?” Poots says.

“If they speak a different language he should just hear them in Russian. That doesn't explain why he sees the words and not hears them” Snowy refutes.

“Oh right”

“Ive never really heard of anything like this before” Marty says. A couple guys nod in agreement.

“Maybe they're sick all the time?”

Thirdy brings up, “I read a story once that a guy started hearing his soulmate's voice in a whole different language than either of them knew and it turned out he had a tumor.”

“I just had a scan when I had that minor concussion” Tater replies exasperatedly.

“Maybe they're deaf?” Jack offers.

“What?” Everyone turns to Jack.

“I read a book on historical figures with disabilities and it explained that many deaf people and their soulmate's see each others thoughts.” That makes sense.

He goes home and googles some more.

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

On his next birthday he tries to casually slip in “Are you deaf?”

It doesn't come off casual. Thankfully his soulmate responds.

“Yes”. Then the connection drops.

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

His family and friends start to worry about him as the years go by. Its not uncommon for people in their early 20s to be single or dating around. But when you're close to 30, people notice. His parents set him up with a Russian National figure skater. She's nice enough but they don't last long with their mismatched schedules and distance between them. He hooks up regularly with a goon on the Bruins for almost two years before he gets traded to the Lightning and meets his soulmate.

On home game nights, when his teammates head home to their soulmates, he returns to his empty apartment. The silence is overwhelming. When he feels like the loneliness will crush him, he turns on ASL and RSL tutorials and clumsily signs along.

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

It's the off season. Usually he tries not to schedule anything on his soulmate's birthday. But admittedly he's starting to give up hope. When Jack invites him to his summer home for a cookout and a friendly game of hockey with friends, he accepts. Its made easier by B's promises of pie and jam. He's pretty excited until he gets there and is slammed with regret.

Milling about and taking pictures are several PR people from the Sharks,  the Aces, the Baby Penguins, the Belleville Senators, and of course the Falconers.

“Sorry guys, I was just so excited.” He overhears Chowder saying. A few Samwell alumni and Falconers are huddled around Chowder and the keg.

“It's alright Chowder. This is good PR.” Whiskey assures him aloofly.

“Yeah and its not like they are staying the whole party – right?” Poots asks.

They all shrug.

Tater makes his rounds. He gives crushing hugs to his teammates, the wellies, and the players from other teams that he has grown to care about. He shuffles in and out of the house. He helps Bitty keep the tables full – and subsequently helps to empty them of their contents. He plays games on the living room's Nintendo Switch, pongs it up with the Pong Master, and gives piggyback rides to the various little ones. He's enjoying himself, but he can't shake the feeling that he's being watched.

He's pouring himself another beer when he glances up and catches the stare of a Shark's photographer from across the room. The guy is lean, with broad shoulders, and flaming red curls. He's also wearing a serious expression aimed right at Tater. His unnerving blue eyes bore into Tater and suddenly Tater feels very self conscious. He trains his eyes on his cup as he takes a drink. When he looks back up, the photographer's face is buried by his curls. The guy is looking down at his camera. Tater is suddenly filled with the fear that he'd just had his picture taken. For years tabloids have tried to make him out to be a heavy drinker. It wasn't true and he didn't need a photo of him chugging a beer to stoke those flames.

He makes his way across the room and stops a few feet from the photographer. “Hey” he says lamely. He was upset a moment ago but now up close, with the man's pale face turned towards him, he can make out the freckles on his nose. He always had a weak spot for freckles.

He was hoping the guy would at least say hello back. Instead it seemed like Tater had returned the favor and unnerved the guy. His eyes were wide and frantically searching around the room, looking everywhere but at Tater. Finally they seemed to settle on something behind Tater. Turning Tater sees Chowder and his soulmate chatting with another couple.

“Uh, hey Chowder” Chowder turned to Tater and Tater pointed his thumb at the photographer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out movement behind him, but by the time he had turned back to the photographer the movement had stopped and Chowder had materialized between them.

Then Chowder started introducing them and signing.

“Hey Tater, this is Cody. He's one of our team photographers. Cody this is Alexei Mashkov.”

“Nice to meet you” Cody signed. He offered a handshake.

Tater shook his hand, then he signed back “Its nice to meet you too”

“Oh you know sign language?” Chowder asks exuberantly.

“Yeah, a little” Tater replied sheepishly.

Cody's expression relaxs somewhat, but he still looks apprehensive.

“How do you know sign language?” he asks.

Surprisingly without hesitation Tater responds “I learned it for my soulmate.”

He regrets it almost immediately. He had almost managed to forget that it was his soulmate's birthday. It felt like he just dropped himself in an ice bath. Cody looked about how Tater felt.

Chowder doesn't pick up on the tension.

“Is your soulmate deaf?” He asks.

“Yeah”

“I didn't know that! Are they here with you? I don't think you've ever introduced us! I know Caitlin would love to meet them too!”

“Well I haven't met them myself so.”

“Oh”

Tater wishes the floor would open up and swallow him.

“I'm sorry” Cody signed. His face looks pained, like he felt what Alexei was feeling.

Chowder offers an escape. “We should probably get padded up for the game. I think I overheard a couple guys talking about starting it soon.”

Tater was about to agree, when Cody cuts in. “Wait, can I get a picture of you both before you're all sweaty.”

Tater chuckles at that. “Sure”

Cody maneuvers them to stand beside some of the Zimmerman's tall houseplants and underneath one of the living room's skylights. Tater is a bit disappointed when Cody takes a few steps away to take their picture. Up close he could see the sun bouncing off of Cody's curls. He even got to see his eyes light up when he joked that Chowder and himself should pose like a falcon and a shark respectively. He's still smiling when he aims the camera. Tater is smiling too.

Cody raises his hand and counts down from 5.  With the click of the camera shutter Tater sees words flash behind his eyes.

“Wow he really is a sweetheart isn't he.”

Tater's heart jumps and flutters wildly. He watches Cody's face transform from embarrassment to terror, flaming red cheeks turning to ghostly white. They both stand still, staring at each other.

Finally, Tater asks “It's you isn't it.”

“Yes”

[glitterians]

Pairing: Jungkook x Jimin / Namjoon x Seokjin / Hoseok x Yoongi / Past Jungkook x Yoongi  | Genre: Adult / Cyberpunk / Dystopian / Non-idol AU | Rating: Explicit / 18+ | Word Count: 4k | Warnings: Explicit sexual content in later chapters / Violence / Drug Use / Slut shaming / Explicit Language / Mental Health Issues / Morally Grey

(Crossposted on AO3. I’m on Chapter 8, if you prefer to read it there.)

Chapter 1: Body/Prison

Seoul, 2113

Outside always smelt metallic.

 The boisterous sounds from the illuminated highway. The tall-as-the-sky buildings. The ever changing holographic ads, displaying in the walls whatever was in vogue. - A new Tesla car. A haute couture brand. - Everything that could satisfy the frivolousness from those living at the highest district. A simulation of a perfect world. A world with perfect looking people, perfect hairstyles and makeup, perfect clothes, perfect homes. Everything was good. Everyone was happy.

 The lone figure standing in the roof sighs. Unconsciously running a hand through his neatly combed dark hair. His sparkly jacket reflecting the neon city lights. Tailor-made. Everything about his life was like that. Privileged. The 1%.

 In the distance he could hear the faint sound of sirens. That was the other side. Outside from politicians and businessmen, no one from his social hierarchy was allowed to go near that part of Seoul. It was imperfect. 

 “Park-nim”

 Jumping slightly after being surprised, he turns his head to the source of the voice. His bodyguard. A relatively young man, no older than 25. He wore a black suit, not as high quality as the clothes everyone else wore. After all, he wasn’t part of their world, he was just a worker for them.

 “Your father is searching for you”

 Nodding, he walks to the rooftop door. The bodyguard standing behind. That was his place. Never in front.

 Both were walking silently through the highly illuminated hallways leading to the office. The sound of their footsteps echoing. It was almost midnight, everyone inside their rooms already. The young man stops suddenly, turning towards the man behind him. 

 “Namjoon” He was high class. There was no need for him to use honorifics. “Have you thought about what I asked?” Turning off his holographic monocle, the addressed man nods.

 “I can’t. It’s risky” He answers crudely. Wanting to end the conversation as fast as he could. He had a task at hand and the boy was taking time from it. “Everyone knows your face”

 “So? I can dress-up. You know how. You’re from there”

 “Your father awaits, Park-nim. You already know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting” Motioning for him to keep walking, he turns on his monocle again. Pouting, the boy turns to the front.

“You promised” He says lowly. An uncomfortable silence accompanying them the rest of the way. They stop in front of a tall, metallic door. The bodyguard, Namjoon, tapping a code on a panel next to it, taking a step back as the door opens.

 “Thank you, Namjoon. You can retire for the night” A voice says from the inside. The dark haired boy steps inside. His father was sitting at his desk, typing on a tablet. Motioning towards the chair in the front, never taking his eyes away from the screen. “Jimin, your 21st birthday is coming. You know what that means?”

 Jimin was well aware that his father never expected answers. He did all the talking by himself. But this time the silence got too long. Was he actually expecting him to answer? The man looked up from the screen. Getting up, he walks across the room, towards the tall windows facing the streets.

 “One day you will be the one in front of this corporation. That is, if you’re ever ready. The council doesn’t believe you will ever be ready, and son, I don’t believe it either” Jimin cringes at his words. His father had always been harsh towards him. Whatever he does, it never seems to please him. “You aren’t man enough to take over, but letting the corporation go to someone else…” He grimaces. “Next week, after your 21st birthday, you will be enrolled in the military. No ‘buts’, no excuses from your mother. You need to toughen up. Become a man” He says, roughly grabbing his son’s face in between his thumb and his index finger. “Understood?” Jimin nods with difficulty. His father smiles, content with the answer, or by the pained expression in his son’s face. “Now go to the entrance. I’ll call the driver”

 Feeling tears welling in his eyes, Jimin blinks rapidly. He couldn’t allow his father to see him being weak. He had enough knowing already how his father hated his soft voice, his small frame, his delicate features. From the outside they were the poster family. The Park family, owners of the biggest corporation in all United Korea. Looking perfect in magazine covers and fundraising galas. Inside their lavish penthouse is where the masks came off. To say his parents hated each other was an understatement. Jimin has wondered since a young age if his parents ever loved each other. Screaming. Infidelities. Long periods ignoring each other. At least his mother loved him. She had always been his shield. The one to tell him he was beautiful whenever his father told him he was a disappointment. All he knew was that a mother’s love couldn’t be faked.

 The entrance was dark and cold. Sitting in a leather couch, he gets out his phone. Notifications illuminating in front of him. A lone message awaiting him. 

  KNJ, read the sender. 

 He had to keep it in secret, knowing there was the possibility of his father having his phone monitored. 

 Opening the message, just a single word. 

  네  .  Yes.

 He smiles. He knew he would change his mind.

 Hearing the footsteps from his father nearing, he puts his phone inside his jacket and gets up. That’s what was expected from him, the perfect son. 

 🐇🐇🐇

 Park Corporation owned the entirety of United Korea. They were even bigger than the government; playing an important role in the reunification of South and North Korea in 2070, it was the least they could do for them. From the security, technology and the food industry, to banks and universities, almost everything had been owned by the Park family for nearly 5 decades. At least everything that was important. Minor corporations took care of transportation and entertainment industries.

 Park Sr. had to be the biggest figure in the country. Respected by everyone. Whatever he said, it was rule. Whoever was the president in turn only had to comply to the whims and wishes of the Park family. 

 After the reunification. Park I had promised to minimize the increasing crime rates in Seoul, thus introducing the segregated districts by income. After the devaluation of the won, anyone with a an income lower than 7,000,000 won had to be sent to the mockingly called  District 7  , to remind them of the number they will never reach. Keeping safe the figures and estates of only 1%, the”valuable part of society”. Park II , despite being in front for a short period, managed to introduce the cruelest rules. Being an extremely religious person, he deemed homosexuality illegal, reintroducing inhumane practices towards those that “lived in sin”. As well as introducing the food rationing for those living in District 7, or the inability to move towards a higher social class. Park III, the current head of the corporation, had been a little bit more lenient, allowing few individuals from District 7 to start working for them, mostly doing all the work no one from the upper class wanted to do, like teaching or cooking. Still no social mobility. 

 Jimin was his only son. The future senior, Park IV, if things went well and he manned up at the military. He was the spitting image of his mother, an ex-model with a nice butt and full lips, as Park III had described her when he met her. His son was soft spoken and lacked character, that’s what made his father feel like his son will never be at the level. Fearing he will ruin everything his family had worked so hard to achieve for so long.

 The young man was aware of everything. The cruelty from his family. How his father looked down upon him and had zero expectations about him. 

 He didn’t want to be sent to the military, up in the north. He wasn’t cut for that. After eavesdropping months before, he had learned about his father’s intentions, and he started devising a plan. Luckily for him, his new bodyguard was near his age and talkative, hailing from District 7. Jimin managed to gain his trust, hinting at his plans many times, until he dared to ask him to take him to his world. At least for one day. He never went deeper on his desire to run away, in case the young man refused and went as a whistleblower to tell his father.

 Jimin was sitting in his bed, a large jacket hiding the clothes he was wearing underneath. Namjoon had sneaked them two days before, after simply saying “two”, letting him know how long until he took him.

 His father wouldn’t know. He was in Japan taking care of businesses. His mother always took sleeping pills, so she would be dead to the world for many hours. He turned off all his devices as precaution, in case his father had set extra security while he was away. But as far as he knew, no one would look for him. Namjoon was the one in charge of him after all.

 Hearing a knock on the door, he immediately turn off the lights of his room, knowing that was his cue. Sliding the door open, Namjoon stood in front of him, out of the suit he always wore. He had a leather jacket on, black cargo pants with reflective stripes at the sides and boots. Stepping aside, he let Jimin walk out, before locking the door on the panel.

 Muttering “Garage” towards the smaller boy, letting him know where they were heading. They walked in silence, keeping their hierarchy even then. Jimin kept pulling the fishnet peeking under the sleeve of his jacket, feeling nervous at what he was about to do. once they reached the garage, Namjoon walked straight to a motorcycle, handing Jimin a purple helmet while getting his on.

 “Hold tight” He said, revving up. The garage door opening after the sensor detected the sound of a vehicle. Circling his arms around the waist of the taller man, Jimin started breathing deeply. “No second thoughts, Park-nim”

 “Not at all” He said, trying to reassure himself.

 Living all his life inside cars and planes, being in a motorcycle gave Jimin a sense of freedom he had never experienced in 20 years. He was seeing the city under a different light. The lights flashing by with the speed. The metallic smell stronger than ever. 

 After almost 30 minutes, Jimin could see the distinctive shape of the wall that marked the entrance of District 7. From the panel on the motorcycle, Namjoon projected an holographic code, the large door immediately reading it and opening. The motorcycle never stopped moving. Entering the doors, Jimin noticed the lights becoming an amalgamation of pink and cyan. The streets weren’t as neat. The sound of sirens becoming louder. Sounds of screaming and drunkards could be heard in the distance. A group of boys near his age were circling around a car, probably stealing parts.

 Namjoon stopped outside an apartment building, a large billboard displaying instructions of what to do in case of a robbery.

 “Before I take you… sightseeing, we need to make you blend in” He said, fishing his keys and opening the apartment gate. Jimin became fascinated at the sight of keys, growing up in a world filled with holographic panels and controlling things through the phone. Walking up three flights of stairs, for the first time Namjoon took the lead. This was his world after all. Most of the doors looked rusty, but the one they stopped in front looked almost decent, at least it had been taken care of. Taking out the keys again, Namjoon opened the door.

 This placed looked way too different to what Jimin was accustomed to. No leather couches and marble tables, or pieces of decoration that could belong to a modern art museum. This place was modestly decorated, a worned-out couch and pallets working as a coffee table. The kitchen space, the dining room and the living room were the same room. Not as cramped as he would have imagined, but long enough to let each space differentiate itself. A small hallway led to the bathroom and where he imagined was the room, or rooms.

 The small hallway lightened at the same time a door could be heard opening, surprising Jimin. For some reason he believed Namjoon lived alone. A girlfriend?

 A really handsome man walked towards them. Medium bleach blonde hair, he was wearing a bright pink, fuzzy sweater with sequined black stripes, checkered shorts and fishnets, but what caught more his attention was the colorful makeup: turquoise eyeshadow running outside of the eyelid with a soft pink eyeshadow under the eyelid. Jimin had heard before how in District 7 colorful makeup was a staple, and he imagined that’s what Namjoon meant when he said he was going to make him “blend in”. 

 “This is Jin. He’s my… friend” Said Namjoon nervously. The tall boy laughed, sounding like a windshield, making Namjoon seem more nervous.

 “Right, your ‘friend’” He walked in front of Jimin, showing him a medium-sized makeup bag. “Sit there, the lighting is better” Taking him towards the small dining table, he set down the bag next to the helmets. 

 “I’m Park Jimin, by the…”

 “Of course I know who you are. Everyone here knows, and that’s why you’re here, to make you less you. What should we do?” He says, thoroughly looking at his face. “I like your eye color, is that natural? I’ve never seen a korean with naturally hazel eyes…”

 “Sorry, he speaks a lot” Namjoon interrupted, sitting at the couch, clearly embarrassed at Jin’s antics. “He’s a stylist, so you’re in good hands” Jin nodded, feeling proud. “And no, Jin, those are clearly contact lenses”

 Whatever Jin was doing to his face, Jimin could tell he was feeling in his element. He could only see brushes in front of his eyes, colors he wouldn't normally see in his side. Bright eyeshadows, glitters and eyeliners, a bunch of decorative pearls, rhinestones, gems and tiny fake colorful crystals.

 “Done!” Jimin opened his eyes, Jin holding a mirror in front of him “What do you think?”

 The makeup was bold. Purple eyeshadow with specks of sparkly blue eyeshadow in the middle and the corner of the eye. Long, black eyeliner starting at the middle of his eye, under the eye he had done glittery blue tears, decorated with different sized pearls and some crystals. Whatever this look was, Jimin was in shock looking at himself. 

 “I look… different” Jin laughed his windshield laugh again.

 “That’s what i intended. If we’re taking you outside, you better not look like yourself. Now take out that jacket, we’re going drinking”

 “NO, JIN, NO” Screamed Namjoon, getting up immediately “We’re only taking him around. That’s what he wanted”

 Jin took away his stuff, going back to the room, looking slightly disappointed.

 “Excuse him, we normally go out for drinks on Friday’s”

 “We could go. I won’t drink, if it makes you more comfortable” Jin pops his head out of the room, smiling.

 “You heard the kid. We can give him the tour of our lovely neighborhood if you want, but the three of us won’t fit on that motorcycle” Jimin takes off his jacket. He was wearing a short sleeved, bright pink satin shirt. Leather pants with lace up sides, and a long-sleeved fishnet undershirt. “Huh? Those are Yoon’s?”

 “They’re the closest in size. He didn’t ask that much” Feeling satisfied with the answer, Jin opened the door.

 “How should we call him?” Namjoon stopped in his tracks, staring confusedly at Jin. “We can’t introduce him by his name, how should we call him?”

 “Uhm… what about Minnie?” Offers Jimin, feeling his face reddening. Jin smiles.

 “Minnie sounds good. I’ll head straight to the club, you take him touring. Message me so I pick you both at the entrance” 

  🐇🐇🐇

When he had learned about District 7, Jimin had pictured a gray, sad-looking place, lost in time, like a city from the 2000s. Instead he was received by a colorful neon-filled place, a mixture of the last century with the high-tech of the 2100s. It was lively outside, mostly young people partying, couples hiding in alley’s illuminated in red. They seemed to live normally. none of the curfews he had read about.

 Namjoon was driving slower, explaining a little about the history of some places, historical buildings that had survived the passage of time. Jimin knew that on his side of Seoul there had been historical buildings before, but they had been destroyed in favor of skyscrapers and highways, so seeing these buildings from centuries ago was fascinating. 

 “Shit” He heard Namjoon say under his breath. Jimin could see he was attempting a sudden U-turn. Staring ahead, he could see a bunch of men in motorcycles adorned with colorful led lights. Before he could complete the turn, a motorcycle stood in front of them, stopping Namjoon. The person on the motorcycle removed his helmet, the shield illuminated with leds that resembled a bunny face. The lights were glaring near his face, making Jimin unable to see his face. He could only see slightly long, messy hair, not as long as Jin’s, but still long.

 “Long time no see, Namjoon. Thought you had ditched us for the fancy people” 

 “Fuck off, JK” Says Namjoon, his bodyguard instinct kicking in immediately, grabbing Jimin’s side, a sad attempt at hiding him. The young man in front leans his head to the side, trying to see the boy behind Namjoon.

 “Where are you taking the whore?” Jimin could feel Namjoon tensing. Whoever this JK person was, apparently Namjoon didn’t like him.

 “It’s not him, and don’t call him a whore. Ever” The boy gives a step to the front, making Namjoon grab Jimin harder.

 “Well, he’s definitely not Jin, and he’s wearing that whore’s, sorry, HIS clothes” He says, pointing with his helmet towards Jimin, finally allowing him to see his face. He was striking.

 “He’s just a kid that needed a ride. Now let us go, his mother is worrying...” Jimin gets up, forcefully removing Namjoon’s hand from is side, and takes off his helmet.

 “I’m Minnie. I work in a house on the other side, Namjoon kindly gave me a ride because I couldn’t reach the subway on time. My mother is really worried, so if you could…” He could feel JK’s stare. Maybe he was bad news, based on Namjoon’s reaction, but there was something about him that attracted Jimin. He had a mysterious aura.

 “Okay, take the fairy home” JK says with a smirk, getting his helmet on again. He makes a sign towards the group in front. “You’ll tell me later why he’s wearing that whore’s clothes” He revs up towards the group, leaving together. 

 “You shouldn’t have done that” Namjoon says coldly. 

 “He wouldn’t leave us alone, and you saw the size of that group?!” Namjoon revs up, not wanting to hear anymore. He was tense, driving angrily. Jimin was wondering if what put him on edge was the person or what he said. Back in their apartment, Jin had mentioned the clothes belonged to someone named Yoon, and that JK had said repeatedly he was a whore. Whatever it was, it had angered Namjoon a lot.

 They stopped in front of a highly illuminated building. Loud music making the floor rumble, a long line outside. Jin spotted them immediately, signaling towards a spot Namjoon could park his motorcycle. Getting off from the motorcycle, They walked to where Jin was standing, on the other side of where the line was standing.

 “Hobi already got us a table… What happened?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

 “JK” Jin made a sour face hearing the name. Whoever that person was, he was definitely no good news, Jimin concluded. They got inside. Loud electronic music pumping. People were dancing, kissing against walls, getting drunk out of their heads. They walked to a more secluded area. Namjoon plopped down immediately, Jin sitting next to him.

 “Our friend Hoseok, Hobi, he owns this place. We get preferential treatment” Jin explains, taking a small tube out of his pocket. Opening it, he takes out some colorful pills, depositing them in Namjoon’s hand. “You look like you need them” He whispers on Namjoon’s ear. The taller man nods, staring ahead, behind the pink curtain dividing them from the rest of the club. Jimin pretended he didn’t see anything.

 “JINNIE, JOON” A high voice screams on top of the music. A man with a bright heart shaped smile and auburn hair appears, holding a bottle on one hand. Pink tinted, hexagonal shaped glasses adorned his face. He was wearing a purple and cyan jacket, and some ridiculous looking sneakers.

 “This is Minnie. He’s Joonie’s friend” Says Jin, taking the bottle out of his hands. “Minnie, he’s Hobi” Jimin waves his hand. The man smiles again.

 “I love your makeup, I already know who the artist is” He says, pointing with his head at Jin. “Want something to drink, Minnie? It’s on me--”

 “He doesn’t drink” Namjoon says immediately, interrupting him. 

 “You’ll keep Yoon company then. Jin, whatever you’re carrying, give me” Jin throws the small tube towards him. Hoseok takes a two pills out. “He’s been clean for almost two months, you know?”

 “Funny how you say that while taking molly” Says Namjoon smirking. 

 “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him”

 Jimin was looking somewhere else. He knew what they were doing, but not staring gave him a sense of protection. He still was from a different world. He was just visiting. Tomorrow he would be back on his perfect palace. He didn’t feel that brave anymore.

 “HERE!” He hears Hoseok’s high voice screaming. A blue haired boy gets into the area, bright pink eyeshadow draping, melting with a softer shade of pink blush and slightly red glossy lips. If Jimin was sure about something, is that everyone around here was obsessed with bright pinks. The boy was pretty, with chubby cheeks and a button nose. He looked quite thin, but not in a healthy way. His long sleeved, graphic black shirt making him look even smaller.

 “That’s Minnie, Joon and Jin’s friend, he isn’t drinking tonight either. Sit with him” Says Hoseok at the blue haired boy, who nods in return. “Minnie, he’s Yoongi, my boyfriend” Hoseok says proudly. Jimin’s eyes widen. Boyfriend?! But that wasn’t allowed.

 “The whore?” Says Jimin without thinking, the blue haired boy visibly flinching, stopping before sitting. Noticing his mistake, Jimin’s face reddens. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, really” He says rapidly.

 “The clothes… they look good on you…” Says the boy timidly. Jimin didn’t know if that was his usual demeanor or his carelessness had broken him so fast.

 “Please, sit” Says Jimin, trying to make amends with the boy, moving to the side. “I’m truly sorry. I spoke without thinking” The boy sits next to him, looking visibly uncomfortable. Hoseok was saying something to a waiter.

 “Boys. I ordered water for both of you. Keep it cute” The other boy, Yoongi, nods. Jimin felt really bad, it was clear whatever mood he had arrived with, he had ruined it.

 “Don’t worry about it… nothing I haven’t heard before” He says in a small voice, playing with the border of his sleeves. The other three were deep in conversation, completely ignoring the awkward pair next to them.

 “How old are you…?” Jimin asks, trying to break the ice. 

 “21” The boy says quietly. Immediately grabbing the glass the waiter was giving him and drinking. Jimin grabs his with a ‘Thanks’. 

 “I’ll be 21 too in 5 days” Jimin says with a smile, trying to appear friendly. Yoongi just nods. Whatever chance he had at some sort of good time with the boy, he had ruined it completely. They sat there in silence for what felt an eternity. Whatever trance Yoongi was in, was broken the moment Jin took Namjoon’s hand, leading him towards the dancefloor. Hoseok stood too, visibly drunk, circling his arms around the smaller boy and kissing his neck.

 “Dance with me” He whispers wetly against his neck, making Yoongi smile. He gets up and both follow the same path as the other couple. Being left alone, Jimin started reflecting on the biggest piece of information he had received in the last hour. In his world being gay was wrong, it was banned and penalized. Why they were so open and free about it. Didn’t they know what they were risking? What Namjoon was risking if that information ever leaked in the upper side?

 Jimin felt someone looming over him. Turning behind him, Jimin is met with JK standing there. His handsome features more visible now.

“I suppose you gave a fuck about your mother after all, fairy” He sips from his bottle of beer. Jimin gets up, facing the taller man. 

 “You followed us?”

 “Don’t think the world revolves around you, fairy. This is still a free country… Unless your father is thinking about removing more things from us” Jimin didn’t notice at which moment the man had cornered him to the wall. He knew.

 “How…?”

 “The other dumbfucks may be naive enought to not realize, or they’re just playing along for Namjoon” He grabs Jimin’s chin on between his thumb and his index finger. “Everyone knows your face. Your family is the reason we live like this” He lets go of his face. “But let me tell you something, fairy. You’re not like them. For some reason you decided to play dress-up and come see our misery. You’re above the pieces of shit you live with. Now you’ve seen, you can actually do something” He caresses his cheek. Jimin feels electricity running through his veins. JK turns towards the dancefloor. “Look at them. This is the only place we can be who we truly are” His fingers go down to his neck, whatever space between them was nonexistent. “No societal expectations” Jimin could feel his lips nibbling his ear. “No rules” Jimin closes his eyes. The close contact making feel things he had never felt before. “You belong here, fairy” And just like that, he goes away, leaving Jimin breathing heavily. Confused. Staring at the bodies dancing in between the colorful lights. The music in sync with his heartbeat.

 Whatever had happened between them, he wanted more.

Next Chapter

[peach-jaehyunie]

You Were Beautiful: Epilogue

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Reader

Warnings: mentions of depression, this is entirely angst and fluff though

Rating: 18+

Words: 2k

Previous: Part I, II, III, IV

It’s odd being back in school after a couple years off, but it’s a distraction from the heartbreak you feel. For a couple of months you cried; privately sobbing into your pillow, or excusing yourself to the bathroom if the feelings became overwhelming. Your friends asked if you had dated anyone seriously while you were in Korea. Of course not! You told them, insisting that embarking on a relationship like that when you had no intention to stay would have been careless. You had dated very casually you told them. Your mother had seen the letter clutched in your fist when she had seen you crying, but she never pushed you any further than you asking if you had loved him.

“With every fibre of my being.” You said to her.

Being in school felt right, being home felt right, but your life felt, otherwise, empty. You got back together with an ex. Ben was familiar and comfortable; he knew your life and you knew his. There were memories of shared teenage years and lots of shared friends. He had been your first love, and you were the friends with the great chemistry but you didn’t date until university. As friends, you had been through past breakups together. You had ended it to travel and teach for a few years, and you were pretty sure that you may have uttered the words “wait for me if you feel like it”. His parents loved you, and your parents loved Ben and his parents. You were bored and sexually unfulfilled. Ben criticized things Jaehyun had admired about you. He seemed lazier than you remembered, and you had forgotten that he was one of those people who constantly criticized other people’s thoughts or opinions. He constantly told you why you were wrong. You found out he had briefly gotten back together with a high school girlfriend while you were gone, and she had broken his heart for the second time. Neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew that the other wasn’t completely happy. At one point you had thought about being with Ben forever and having children together, now you made excuses to avoid sex as often as possible. Ben knew you well enough to know that this was extremely uncharacteristic of you.

A year went by and you still thought of Jaehyun every day. You regretted ever wasting a single second by being angry at him after the engagement announcement. You wanted one more day with him—even an hour would suffice. He was in everything you did, he was in every good thought you had. Ben knows there’s someone else, and he asks the bare minimum. Of that, you’re grateful. Sometimes, late at night, you remember the overwhelming—drowning even—sensation of love that you felt with Jaehyun. Maybe that was once in a lifetime love; maybe the regular love was all that you had to look forward to in the future. Your friends were getting married, but you were busy writing your thesis. Your friends were having babies, but you were pining over a married man in a foreign country. Things happened during the day that you wanted to share with Jaehyun, vacation spots became available but you only wanted to go with Jaehyun. A fear that you might never get over him gripped you: what if you never moved on as you had promised. An even greater fear was that Jaehyun may have completely moved on; maybe he was happily in love with someone else, what if he didn’t think of you anymore—it was selfish, that you knew. You wanted him to be blissfully happy and in love, but more than anything you wished that it was with you. You kept in touch with Johnny and Yuta. Johnny never brought up Jaehyun, and Yuta learned to as well. You accepted the love lost, but the world seemed dull. You began to avoid friends and social obligations, devoting yourself to paper writing and volunteering at call helpline centre for youth. Your professor got you involved as a counselor for an addiction group. You devoted every spare moment to others to avoid your own problems. You realized were even denying yourself the opportunity of another chance at love or happiness. You resented the stagnant relationship you were in and mentally chastised yourself for letting love go so easily. You were angry with the naive girl you had once been—who was she to walk away from love without even sparing him one last glance. You saw Jaehyun when you closed your eyes, and your heart stopped for a moment one day when someone walked by you wearing his same cologne. Little things reminded you of him, and you had never missed a person so much. Depression gradually began to settle in, and you pushed yourself to be even busier. On the outside, you were cool as a cucumber, completely together and sometimes even cheerful, but at home, you would shut down; like a computer put to sleep. You wanted desperately for someone to ask how you really were, maybe then you would tell someone. Maybe talking about it would make it feel better, but you also knew that no amount of talking or thinking about Jaehyun would ever bring him back. If Jaehyun existed in summer, then you existed in a world that had no summer—nor even a spring that rekindled the memories of the upcoming season. You cried, pitying yourself for not forgetting Jaehyun or allowing yourself to move on. It was your fault, you were doing this to yourself. “You could be happy if you wanted to be, Y/N.” you muttered to yourself when you were alone. This was never whom you wanted to become, this was not the woman Jaehyun had fallen in love with.

After two years back home, you and Ben broke up by mutual agreement; parting ways with a “see you around”, because 15 years of being a part of each other’s lives were not to be forgotten easily. You focused on yourself and began to tell yourself that you had once had a great love. “I have known love.” You say to yourself every night before falling asleep. You didn’t look for a relationship if you met someone you liked—then so be it, but your energy was otherwise spent on yourself and your work. You take up hobbies you had let fall by the wayside in university, and let little things in life bring you happiness. You tell Yuta to meet you in Osaka in the spring under a cherry blossom tree.

There is a figure standing outside your door, but you don’t notice him immediately as he slowly turns towards the sound of your footsteps as you carry your groceries, humming to yourself. You stop in your tracks when you spot him, and a wave of emotions hits you immediately filling your eyes with tears. He looks the same: his hair falls almost in his eyes, thick and soft as you remember it; his expression is neither happy nor sad, and his eyes appear to drink the sight of you in.

“Hello, Y/N.” he says quietly, his hands remain stuffed in his pockets but he offers the slightest smile.

“Hel—hello, Jaehyun” Your voice cracks loudly and you clear your throat as you set your bags down at your feet. You don’t dare move nearer to him, afraid he’ll disappear like smoke—nothing more than an apparition.

“I’m sorry, I maybe shouldn’t have just shown up.” He looks down at his feet, insecurity being apparent for the first time since he had brought you back your bra in a little paper bag.

“No,” it comes out harsher than you mean “No, it’s fine.” You continue, your voice softening. He looks at you and nods his head before stepping towards you. You’re unable to move as he comes closer to you, this was a dream, this couldn’t be real.

“May I?” He asks as he reaches for your grocery bags. He smells the same, and you nod your head as he lifts the bags from near your feet.

“What are you doing here?” Finally finding your strength and your voice, you can’t let him get away without an explanation. He can’t just come and go as he pleases, not when you’re finally starting to do well.

“Um, well...” he hesitates, standing there with your groceries, “Misook and I are taking everything over in the companies and consolidating it all. Our parents own a lot of real estate...my dad owns a lot of complexes, and one of them is only a couple hours away from here.” You’re unsure of what you’re hearing, and not entirely sure if you’re still breathing. He still hasn’t told you why he’s here, at your house.

“Misook and the baby” Your stomach plummets, “will have half of all assets, and the other half will be mine.” You feel as if you might be sick: so that’s what it feels like; that’s what the keen slap of heartbreak feels like. You can’t look at him, you feel betrayed. You grab the bags from him and rush to your door as you fumble with keys. To your humiliation, you drop them and you feel like breaking down right there, but you can’t let him see you fall apart like that. You curse under your breath as you bend down to pick them up.

“Y/N, he’s Minseok’s.” Jaehyun informs you quietly, sensing what caused your sudden outburst.

“Oh,” you start awkwardly, looking at Jaehyun; your expression embarrassed and apologetic.

“I guess what I’m saying is...I don’t need to be in Korea full time to run the company, and if you’re still interested I’m still madly in love with you.” He’s clear and concise. “We can’t get married or anything until Misook and I completely work out who owns what...so how do you feel about not marrying me, right away at least?” He walks up to you as he says this. You stare at him in front of you, was this real? Was he here asking you this? You make no reply, how do you tell him you completely failed to forget him and stop loving him as he had asked. How do you tell him you would take him back if it meant you two had to move to the moon together. He takes your silence as a negative reply, and he nods before beginning to turn away.

“Yes,” you breathe, reaching out to grab him. He’s real, he’s really here, he’s really asking you this you think as you grip him tightly.

“So you still love me?” Jaehyun asks, brushing a strand of hair off your face.

“How could I ever stop,” and the groceries are dropped again as your breaths intermingle for a moment before lips gently brush against each other. This is the only kiss that matters—it’s like a day was never missed, it was the same as it always was. This is the only feeling that matters, the swelling and feeling full and whole once again. He pulls away for a moment:

“What’s Forest Academy like?”

“Oh,” you are slightly confused for a moment when he mentions the private school nearby that’s filled with foreign students from wealthy families“It’s an excellent school, but it’s really expensive—“ you catch the look on Jaehyun’s face “—not that that will be a problem.” he grins and kisses you again, this time you pull away from him,

“Is that where our kids are going to go to school?” You ask, and you smile against his lips.

“Yes, and then they’ll spend the summer in Seoul with their grandparents. Now that we have everything figured out, all we have to do is make them--but we don’t have to rush that part.” He cuts off your laughter with the crush of his lips. Every movement and breath is as if no time had passed, it’s familiar while still being tantalizing and fulfilling. You feel complete, you feel weightless; he is your equal and you are his. Love is a living and breathing thing: it is constant and ever-changing; its heartbeat slows and speeds up; it is small and warm, and then sometimes swells and consumes you like a fire.

[darkarfs]

This is gonna make so many horrible people unhappy. EVERY Takeover has had at least one match-of-the-year candidate on it. Some of the most emotional moments in that brand have come from cards that even aren't quite as good. I even considered not doing this list, because, by all accounts, NXT Takeover: Tampa isn't even going ahead. But then I thought, fuck it, let's celebrate, taken all together, for my taste, the best wrestling product in the history of mankind. It's not just moves; it's emotional investment, sharply-focused, character-based storytelling, intricately-performed spectactle from the greatest physical specimens ever to lace their boots. It FINALLY legitimized Western women's wrestling in the mainstream (Michelle McCool, Trish, Molly, Mickie, Jazz, Victoria, you all were stunning performers in your own right, but you and your kind were, until NXT, only given 3 minutes: the longest women's match IN HISTORY, until 'Mania 32, was Trish Stratus vs. Mickie James at Wrestlemania 22, and it got 9 minutes.), it's got some of the greatest tag wrestling ever seen on ANY brand, it's created the longest-drawn storytelling ever, it's the best of the indies, the best of the WWE, wrapped up in a sequence of shows that were epic without being FIVE FUCKING HOURS LONG.

Where do I even start...?

Honorable mention: Takeover: R Evolution (I have to, because I've only got 10) Sami Zayn spends over a year, clawing and sweating and tearing walls down, just to get to the top of the mountain in NXT. He has the opportunity to cheat, but does it his OWN way, as beautiful, unique babyface Sami Zayn...before being no-scoped by his best friend, who debuted THAT NIGHT. The undercard isn't as strong, so I can't officially include it, but this payoff, this triumph, and this tragedy represents everything the first era of NXT was, and kickstarted it, truly, onto its first golden era. So, properly, then...

10. Takeover: Rival If you leave this list feeling like the title reigns, and thus, ERAS, of Zayn/Owens are a little under-represented by it, I completely understand. After all, so much good came from that time. American Alpha soldifying themselves as the dominant tag team, the Iron-Woman match between Sasha and Bayley, Becky Lynch putting all the pieces together, Enzo and Cass actually being GOOD...it was, still, at its heart, a developmental brand at that time. It had indie megastars, yes, but it also had the likes of Bull Dempsey. And that's not a dig at Bull Dempsey, it's just that those early Takeovers were an eclectic mix of skill levels, which is what NXT was at that time. It was a place to showcase these people. That said, some of these cards were truly *fantastic.* Case in point: Takeover: Rival. Not only was the undercard completely stacked (Hideo Itami vs. Tyler Breeze over-delivered; we had the first and still SOMEHOW ONLY Fatal 4-Way match between the Four Horsewomen; and Finn Balor vs. Neville was a solid match of the year candidate), but the main event was the first step in one of the most storied rivalries in the history of wrestling: Zayn vs. Owens. The video package is one of the best NXT ever did, and the match...was a masterpiece of simple-but unexpected booking. Zayn mistimes a leap to the outside, hits his head, and Owens responds by powerbombing him over...and over...and over again, until the ref stops the match. Zayn loses nothing, because he was never pinned, Owens is made to look even MORE the loathsome monster, and Zayn's title reign ends after just a month, without the champion nor the championship devalued in any way. It showed that NXT knew, even then, how to reward fans for their emotional investment.

9. Takeover: Portland Right now, NXT feels like it's approaching the very end of a special time in its life. Like it's on the verge of hitting critical mass. One of either Gargano or Ciampa probably leaving the company after the next Takeover, and the reign of the Undisputed Era seems to be crumbling, too. In yesteryear, this would indicate a raft of very important call-ups, neccessitating a shift in the roster and a period of calm centered around more patient character-building. NXT's existence now as a third brand throws that formula into uncertainty, but it definitely feels like they're ramping up to a finale, because goddamn, this is NXT almost at a point of self-parody. Every match is so. MUCH. Lee/Dijakovic is the pinnacle of HOT wrestling (and Lee, will you marry me?) Bianca Belair breaks out as an actual superstar...just as Charlotte decides to visit and to ruin everything, which is just dreadful timing. Gargano/Balor being everything we need it to be, and also Balor pinning Gargano with his fucking dick. And the Broserweights being VERY DUMB...but also VERY, VERY GOOD. The only thing that lets this card down...and this is obviously subjective...is that NXT has almost come TOO FAR, now, in its delivery on its main events, in that every kickout starts to beggar belief. On the level of Triple H/Undertaker at Wrestlemania 28, in that I still love it, but...hoo, it can be exhausting. Depends on how much Ring of Honor you like in your gumbo, I guess, but it feels like everyone on the roster is racing toward Tampa to explode, like a wrestling Crisis on Infinite Earths, and then MAYBE...things can calm down. Just a hair. Y'know, if Tampa even...still happens.

8. Takeover: Philadelphia If there's one man that's become synonymous with NXT, it's Johnny fucking Wrestling. You know, what would happen if a meerkat put on muscle mass and became the best set-piece wrestler this side of Daniel Bryan. We knew since he started his tag team with Tommaso Ciampa that he was an exceptional wrestler, but it wasn't until Philadelphia, and his INSANE match with Andrade "Cien" Almas, that we saw him as truly the industry's next star. It was the first Takeover match to go over 30 minutes (Sasha/Bayley at Respect went EXACTLY 30, don't @ me), it was the first NXT match to get 5 stars from Dave Meltzer (if that matters to you), and it set a new bar for Takeover main events. And while the undercard doesn't live up to it, it's still loaded with excellent matches. A.O.P. vs. the Undisputed Era is something special. Shayna Baszler makes her Takeover debut, and while she's nowhere near her prime, it cemented her immediately. Velveteen Dream and Kassius Ohno have a very fun match, and Aleister Black and Adam Cole have a ludcriously stupid no-holds-barred match, featuring two men doing with chairs what no one ought to do with chairs. But as good as all of that is, it's really a one match show, but what a match, and Ciampa ending it by being an utter bastard yet again.

7. Takeover: Brooklyn I Does the first Brooklyn Takeover feature Canadian Destroyers, 18 kick-outs and "fight forever" chants? It does not. Does it create moments of wrestling happiness that are rarely, if ever, replicated? It sure does. Firstly, Blue Pants appears and helps the Vaudevillains defeat Blake and Murphy. Seems quaint to look back on it, but it made everyone SO goddamn HAPPY that night. If you're forgetting, Leva Bates (that wrestling librarian in AEW right now) was once a comedy jobber in NXT, who wore Blue Pants. Adorable. Ignore what happened on the main roster (which is something you'll probably have to do with a lot of these shows, I imagine), but the Vaudevillains were once incredibly over (I promise!), and their win was one of several beam-inducing moments from this stellar night. Samoa Joe destroyed Baron Corbin at the height of his game, Apollo Crews debuted brilliantly (again, ignore what happens next!) and Balor and Owens' ladder match was also fantastic. Also, what's Jushin Thunder Liger doing here?? Wrestling like he's in his early 30s, that's goddamn what!! But of course, the reason we're all here is Sasha Banks vs. Bayley, and...there's still something in my eye. Anytime people want to rag on NXT for being "predictable," remind them that giving the people a moment they've genuinely prayed for...is a good thing. Bayley besting Sasha Banks at her prime just made us all...so happy. All of us. Everyone. When that curtain call took place, it was so earned. The narrative of women's wrestling dominated most of 2015, and this moment, this match, was the apex of that narrative.

6. Takeover: Chicago I And speaking of feelings...hello, Ciampa, you godless fuck. And so begins maybe the actual greatest rivalry in all of NXT. It is truly an odyessy, with twists, turns, injuries, betrayals, wounds torn open, and this is the nexus point. Well, the seeds had already sort of been planted, because Triple H knows what he's doing. Ciampa almost ALMOST turns on Gargano after their terrific match in the Cruiserweight Classic, only for the team to die another day...and what a death it was. After a great ladder match, the two stand atop the ramp, and you think "will it happen?" And the absolute bastards show you the copyright logo, just to make you think the show ends there, because it always does, seconds after that happens. You unclench, you breathe out, relax...Ciampa whispers "this is MY moment" and then...It is a perfectly engineered bait-and-switch, and exactly as vicious as it needs to be. Pats on the back, all 'round. This moment alone makes this a worthwhile Takeover, but there's also a hell of an undercard. The women's triple-threat (Ruby Riott vs. Asuka vs. Nikki Cross) is stellar, Bobby Roode and Hideo Itami have their respective best Takeover matches ever, and then there was Tyler Bate vs. Pete Dunne. An absolute show-stealer of a match, a star-making performance for both men (especially Dunne), it cemented the career of several men, and was a fully-formed GREAT show, as opposed to a good show in service to a storyline.

5. Takeover: Brooklyn IV Gargano and Ciampa's battle of brotherhood, betrayal and brainwashing was supposed to blow off at Takeover: New York, but because God hates necks, Tomato Champion was out of action, making this the final singles encounter to date, until Tampa (again, IF it even happens). This is the weakest of their 3 excellent encounters (which still makes it better than any match over SummerSlam weekend), but it also features Johnny Stupid running into a speaker, because his dumb ass can't seem to quit Ciampa. It's one of the greatest long-form feuds for a reason, mirroring Bret and Owen from 1993 into 1994, with all the repeated imagery, the callbacks, the nuances, the psychological cruelty. The street fight at Chicago II is MAYBE better, but this undercard, for me, is a lot stronger. It featured the Undisputed Era vs. Moustache Mountain, aka the Brothers Shithead vs. the Proud Circus Bear and His Beautiful Son. Velveteen Dream vs. EC3 was the closest NXT got to WWE-style storytelling and was still brilliant (remember when EC3 wrestled?), and HEY, wouldn't you know it, Kairi Sane was once a character with dimensions, as evidenced by an amazing match with Shayna Bazsler. But what makes this undercard truly stellar is Adam Cole vs. Ricochet. It is so nice to see Ricochet used well, etc., but I will still never stop pissing myself at Cole nailing him square in the jaw with a superkick WHILE HE'S MID-MOONSAULT UPSIDE-DOWN SWEET JESUS. Sometimes...sometimes...things fall exactly into place.

4. Takeover: WarGames (2018) The WarGames Takeovers are just so silly. It's a silly shoebox, filled with huge, silly men who only barely know why they're killing each other. It's as close as we ever get to WWE's now-terminal problem of "set aside whatever feuds you have right now, because it's Stipulation Month!" (see: Hell In a Cell, most Money In the Bank shows, though Elimination Chamber largely sidesteps this). The other Shoebox Takeovers are really good, no doubt, but this one stands head-and-shoulders above the rest. But there is not a bad match on this card. Kassius Ohno rides Matt Riddle's knee all the way to heaven; NXT shows why 2-out-of-3-falls is fast becoming its signature stipulation with the excellent blowoff between Sane/Baszler; Sexy Mindgames Prince had a star-making match against Tommaso Ciampa, showing why he may be the best overall character in NXT right now, and sweet lord, Aleister Black vs. Johnny Wrestling. It somehow showed that Gargano was JUST AS, if NOT MORE engaging as a dirtbag than as a good guy. And those Black Masses are presents just for me, a guy who tends to like more community theater in his wrestling than flips ("I ABSOLVE YOU...OF ALL YOUR SINS!"). And then we get to the Shoebox, and gosh it's silly! The Viking Experience, Ricochet and Pete Dunne take on the Undisputed Era, and...its a fucking LOT. 45 minutes of spots and smashing, with just a sprinkling of story, with Fish locking Dunne in his cage so he can't participate in the match. Since this seems to be what this match is designed for...let's rattle off some spots! Ricochet, jumping from one ring to the other! That amazing face-off that recreates the Captain America: Civil War poster! Perhaps the beefiest Tower of Doom in all of wrestling! And then Ricochet proving just how amazing he is...with the double moonsault off the top of the cage. What a stupid thing to do in an amazing, amazing show.

3. Takeover: Dallas I get it; a lot of people might not rank this Takeover quite so high. But it might be my actual personal favorite...? Overall...? More than any other Takeover, this show feels the most like it's filled with living, breathing superheroes. Many NXT stars are seen as just indie guys whose only gimmick is "I'm a very good wrestler," making them almost anti-WWE at the core. But NXT doesn't get enough credit for being, at its core, the best aspects of WWE. The showmanship, the things that elevate mere wrestlers to things like monsters, gods, and demons. I will always like my NXT WWE-style: the best wrestling cut with the most theater, the most camp. And Dallas is that concept, writ large. Baron Corbin coming out with lil' skulls on his shoulders. American Alpha finally becoming Super Saiyan Nerds. Asuka killing our hero, because Bayley is a person, and Asuka is a goddess who can perform brain surgery with her feet. Finn Balor coming out and going actual Texas Chainsaw Massacre on Samoa Joe. It's excellent wrestling, near-mythic visuals...and then we get to Nakamura/Zayn. The most special moment of a very special night. It is, from nearly every perspective, perfect. The hype of the crowd, salivating with anticipation. That moment when Nakamura appears in silhouette, and that violin note slides like a knife across steel, to reveal the man who set New Japan aflame. Sami Zayn getting the best possible swan song in a promotion built almost entirely on HIS back. The end of his era. That bit where they just KEEP PUNCHING ONE ANOTHER. I know it's not a perfect show (Balor/Joe stops for 3 minutes to address a cut on Joe's forehead, stalling its momentum; that Corbin/Ares match isn't as good as it could be) but that all means nothing. It's a sentimental choice, and I'd make it #1 if I could.

2. Takeover: New Orleans I went around and around in my head, and this one and #1 kept jockeying for position in my brain. But these top two Takeovers are literally note-perfect, from ship to shore, soup to nuts, top to tails. So if this is YOUR favorite? (Honestly, maybe 1 person I know who loves wrestling as much as I do will even see this mess). I'm here for you, and I understand. But this show has TWO 5-star matches from the Wrestling Observer, and I don't ever agree with that. In this case, I agree with BOTH, in the North American Championship ladder match, and the first (and so far, BEST) match in the Gargano/Ciampa feud. Everything. Is. Amazing. Shayna Bazsler became Women's Champion after BEAST-MODING her SHOULDER back INTO IT'S SOCKET to show that, YES, she gets pro-wrestling. Roderick Strong shocked the world (and the System) by joining the Undisputed Era and becoming the final Chaos Emerald needed to make that stable Super Sonic. Aleister Black took the championship from Andrade "Cien" Almas and SMILED, I fucking SAW IT! And it all depends on what you want from your wrestling, but Gargs/Tamps might actually be the best main event in Takeover history, at least from a storytelling standpoint. The crutch, the neckbrace. Each man going back to their DIY roots (the tag team - they didn't build another ring when that one broke), and then sitting side-by-side, like they did at the Cruiserweight Classic. Brothers. Completely spent. Destroyed. No one but each other. And then Ciampa shits any chance at redemption up the goddamn wall, cementing his own destruction. Every. Bit. Counts.

and #1...

Takeover: New York For a whole bunch of other wrestling fans, this has the greatest main event in Takeover history. But first, let's take a minute to appreciate how lucky we are, or were, that NXT exists. It justfies the existence of WWE, artistically, almost by itself. If this one's only slightly worse than New Orleans, it is argued, it's that the North American title ladder match was TOO good, and hurt every other match on the card. It has been argued. Not by me, but this one is somehow the most perfectly paced, perfectly sized wrestling card, on its own, ever. Every match, through alchemy or magic, manages to enthrall the crowd equally, and completely. The Viking Raiders vs. Grumpy Smaller Undertaker and the Human Pinball was off the hook incredible, and that warm "thank you" feeling has translated, currently to a man trapped in a room and a man trapped in Vince McMahon's scorn for smaller wrestlers, respectively. Matt Riddle and Velveteen Dream put on an absolute fantasy match, pitting the best of MMA vs. the best of WWE-style theatricality, and adds to the complete, demented character-world of this brand, and the fact that Dream WINS against one of the hottest new prospects is so deserved, and shows that he can, and will, shine forever brighter. Then AAAAGH WALTER vs. Pete Dunne! WALTER LAYS into poor Dunne, his chops alone having you believe that after the match, he's going to run into the arena's parking lot to FIGHT THE CARS. Then Shirai vs. Baszler vs. Sane vs. Belair and goddammit how do I even expound on that without crashing thesarus.com? And then Johnny Gargano and Adam Cole wrestled for. 40. MINUTES. With Gargano as the defacto heel because it was allegedly Cole's time. And by the match's end, he had the crowd more behind him than maybe they ever had been before. Is it a bit much? Yes. Too many kickouts? Probably. But it stands as the apex of Johnny Wrestling's journey. After everything had been taken from him: DIY, his health, his sanity, even his chance at revenge...the only thing he has left is the NXT Championship. And in that moment, he is invincible, he is more than enough.

What a show. What a host of shows.

Thanks for reading, everyone.