#i somehow decided that i needed to lose 20 pounds?

[pettygods]

been having a rough time of it mentally lately lads. how am i meant to work in these conditions

[springvaletales]

((Session 55 is wrapped!))

We have everyone available for the first time in nearly a month, so I’m going to try to cut the Lightbell shenanigans short and hustle everybody into the Library of Pax Achillies for some required Story Bits before I lose this chance.

Bagelby: “Did y’all hear the narrator? We’re going to a lighthouse!!”

Somehow the conversation pivoted from bullying the local vigilante to Bone Daddy and why he’s hot.

Now the topic is ‘Which Batman Villain Would My PC Be’, because someone joked that if they bullied Whitescale 2.0 anymore, he was going to go Joker on them.

Ena watched Whitescale 2,0 leave as the party argues OOC.

New restaurant and NPC: Patricia Pound, dwarven owner and head chef of Patricia’s Pancake Pyramid, an all-day breakfast restaurant in Port Covekeel, Salance. Created solely bc the drunk party member cried about wanting pancakes and I needed to get them moving.

“Look, it’s very easy to make food sexy.”

Thiori’s player refuses to accept that he specifically said “I give ALL my gold to these kobold” last session and thus has no gold left to go around tipping random strangers at the public bus stop and keeps arguing with me about it. I am honestly about to scream just gET ON THE FUCKING WAGON-

Bagelby spent the entire wagon ride badgering the 20-something wagon driver about his life.

“Because the light hurts too much and you can’t turn off the sun, you invent sunglasses.”

The instant Bagelby saw the port’s three - three! - lighthouses, he abandoned the group to run across town and dive right into the bay.

The party sent Thiori to drag him back, but when Thiori caught up to Bagelby, he just…kept swimming.

A resigned Asahi cast Levitate on Ena so that Ena could float across the water, and dove into the water herself.

Lex also decided to swim, as her new, god-given muscles made it quite easy, and Sir Carl Jaeger had to strip out of his armor to avoid drowning as he swam after them.

Bagelby, rolling for perception: “….that is a 2.”

Me: “You find a cool rock.”

So absorbed was Bagelby in his cool rock find that he didn’t notice Y.A.W. standing in the lighthouse doorway until Thiori had picked him up and carried him halfway up the stairs.

Before opening the portal to the Library of Pax Achilles at the top of the lighthouse, Y.A.W. warned the party not to overstay their welcome, lest they become a part of the library itself.

Being the Head Librarian at the Kendaran Royal Palace Library is apparently just a side hustle for Dynamite, Head Librarian of the Library of Pax Achillies, Demigod of Knowledge, and 13th Son of Machina, Goddess of Innovation and Deceit.

Bagelby, horrified: “No….no! It can’t be! How did YOU get here?!”

Dynamite handcuffed Bagelby to Asahi to force her to chaperone him, forced Ena to wear a hazmat suit to keep her fire away from the books, and demanded collateral from the party in return for temporary library cards.

Sir Carl Jaeger left one of his rings as collateral, Asahi left one of her enchanted glass figurines from Redfeather City.

Dynamite demanded Maritza as collateral from Bagelby, to the party’s genuine horror.

To keep Maritza company, Thiori handed over Saiorse. Dynamite then pulled out a mimic of her own, so all three could have a playdate.

Lex tried to hand over her deity-given weapon, but Dynamite looked her up and down and waved her through.

After a very sad puppy look from Lex, she sighed, and took the Rod of Guffaw as collateral.

Once everyone in the party had been given a temporary library card, Dynamite led them around the circulation desk to a massive tome - one that required both of her paws to open - and spun it around to face them.

The book itself is blank, but when you place your palm on its page and firmly state what information you’re looking for, the pages write themselves with the library wing, wing section, aisle number, shelf letter, and shelf section of the book that best matches your request.

Once your query has been processed, the book spits out a little map showing you how to reach the specific shelves from the circulation desk. None of the shelves on the party’s many maps seem to match.

Dynamite, very sternly: “Wipe your hands before you touch my book.”

Bagelby wants to find: Information on “how to un-steal a soul”.

Ena wants to find: Information on Genasi (specifically of the air variety) marriage customs. Book got confused and gave her dragon lore as well.

Sir Carl Jaeger wants to find: Information about Chessifer, his missing squire.

Lex wants to find: Information on her home country, [name unknown].

Thiori wants to find: A shit ton of crafting recipes.

Asahi wants to find: Literally ALL the lore her list went on for twelve NPCs five cities and six major historical events I’m gonna have to cut things down just for the sake of time.

It took Bagelby several attempts to get his answer recognized by the reference book, as he kept amending his request when the information brought up was not what he wanted.

Ena, about Thiori fighting Krell 1v1: “You have the high ground!”

Thiori, horrified: “Yes, but he has the high chairs!”

Asahi asked if they could speak to Pax Achilles, and Dynamite insisted that NOBODY disturbed the demigod unless the world was ending.

Asahi: “About that….does a giant magical chaos tree growing out of a dimensional rift count as world-ending?”

Dynamite:

As soon as Dynamite stormed off to get Pax Achilles, Bagelby ran back to the reference book, slammed his hand on the page and asked it a dozen and a half more questions, including: “how to become a librarian in 6 easy steps” and “why is money?”.

We left off with the party going their separate ways to find their requested books, leaving me with a LOT more lore to develop in about a week.

[haechansfbuddy]

Church

Na Jaemin x female reader

Warnings: dom!Jaemin, Sub!reader, Overstim, Degradation, Unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it kids), Oral (male and female receiving.), Edging.

Based on: Church by Chase Atlantic

You were sleeping at your boyfriend Jaemins house, as his parents were on a business trip, and yours has kicked you of the house long ago.

As you woke up, rubbing the sleepiness off of your tired eyes, you noticed Jaemin, who you had fallen asleep cuddling, had already woken up. Knowing him, he was probably at the gym, so you decided to throw one of his t-shirts on and make him food for when he gets back. As you walk past his mirror, you get a glimpse of how baggy Jaemins shirt is on you, and you picture him wearing it, it hugs his muscles tightly, which is very pleasing to the eye.

You decide to make Jaemin a full English breakfast, since it's your favourite thing about going to see your English relatives. You put full effort into it, you make him fried tomatoes and all. Sadly, there was no leftovers to make bubble and squeak with. Most people think bubble and squeak is old people food, but you happened to quite enjoy it.

As you're plating up the hearty meal, you hear keys in the door, you quickly put his plate on the table with his drink, and run to hug him as he comes in. When he sees you, he smiled brightly, and you enjoy the warmth of his body against yours, although he is a bit sweaty. "Miss me that much? I only went to the gym" he giggles at you. You look up at him pouting, tracing circles round the collar of his t-shirt "I love you." You just stare into his pretty brown eyes for a second, getting lost before saying "I made you breakfast!" He raised his eyebrow at you, confused at why you sounded so excited. He opened his mouth to say something, before you playfully kissed him to shut him up. You covered his eyes quickly and pulled him into the kitchen and saying "tada!" as you let him see again "it's a full English breakfast, even got hashbrowns" you smiled at him again.

He eyes you before saying "for a minute I thought you were gonna let me eat you out" "shower first mister, plus that's desert, you can only have it if you eat your mushrooms like a good boy" He doesn't like your attitude, so he says in a sarcastic tone "yes mummy." You curse under your breath as you watch him roll his eyes. That is, until he trys his English breakfast, and smiles. "You like it?" you say happily. " Delicious, is this why you love visiting your English relatives? " he says. "Yeah" you nod enthusiastically, "plus, if you think this is good, you should try a Gregg's pizza or sausage roll, or any type of British sweets. Also, my English relatives like me more than my parents do" your tone sounds sadder when you say the last part, missing your dad's embrace, and how he always making you feel better when you cried.

Jaemin had finished his breakfast, and he put his plate on the kitchen side by the dishwasher, he caresses your hair and looks lovingly into your eyes. You kiss him passionately, it starts out loving and soft, but it gets rough and lustful. Jaemin puts his hands up your [his] tshirt to grab your breasts, and as his hand travels up, he notices something. "You're wearing nothing but my tshirt" he smirks. He begins to knead your left breast making you gasp, as his free hand travels towards your pussy. He swiped his finger over your wet pussy lips, and pulled away from the kiss, making you whine. "Aww, my needy baby is already this wet for me," he mockingly pouts at you, head going down to face your heat, and you stop him. "I said not until you shower, you have to be a good boy to get your desert" you start fiddling with his hair, waiting for his reaction. He looks up at you. "Little brat" he spat "You're gonna regret this baby" You somehow managed to get the courage to push him away, you knew it would get you a punishment, but maybe that's what you wanted. He looked at you, a mix of anger and lust in his eyes "my little whore needs to stop leading me on, you knew forgetting your underwear would get you sex, you wanted it didn't you? Such a slut" he smirked, thinking this would break you. He was wrong. You decided to piss him off further, you looked at him and said "I'll keep leading you on, if you keep leading me into your room" it was your turn to smirk. However, to your surprise, Jaemin didn't angrily fuck you there and then, he threw you over his shoulder and started upstairs. "Where are you taking me" you enquire, knowing you've put him off his room. "Back to church" he replies. You had know idea what that meant, but you were thrown into the counter top in the bathroom soon enough. He pulled off all of his clothes hastily, and you pulled his tshirt off your body, not wanting anything rougher than what you're already about to receive. You led back on the counter after throwing no shirt across the room. He licked a stripe of your pussy, making you somehow wetter than you already were. You moaned lightly at the pleasure he was giving you, as he sucked and licked your clit. As he started sucking harsher, the knot in your stomach began to grow, you felt your legs shake as he sucks harsher, and just as you're about to cum, he stops. You whine loudly and he giggles to himself. You glare at him, but he takes no notice. "On your knees babygirl" he says in a slightly harsh tone. You drop to your knees, and start giving his tip kitten licks. "The more you tease, the more slaps you get later."

You decide this is gonna be fun, and so, you keep teasing. "One, two" he counts as you tease him for longer. Eventually he gets to ten, and that's when you take him all in, gagging slightly. "Good girl" he says, slightly moaning. He tried to hold his moans back, knowing that it's what you wanted to hear. You quickly picked up on this, watching him bite down on his lips. So you stop sucking and take him out with a loud pop. "What was that for" he says, almost whiny. You, quite enjoying the affect you have on him, lock eyes with him and pout "I like hearing your moans" "20 slaps it is" he replies. You fully take him back in, and as you start sucking, he decided to face fuck you, which makes you gag. He moans in his sexy deep voice. Occasionally letting out low groans, which were like music to your ears. He keeps face fucking you, you letting him take over. You let out a moan at the feeling of his cock in your mouth, which makes him twitch in your mouth. He shoots white string of cum down your throat, moaning loudly as he does so. When he's emptied his load, you make eye contact with him and swallow it. Standing up slowly, maintaining eye contact. "My little sluts feeling brave today, isn't she?" You ignore him "Don't ignore me baby" he says mockingly "I'll have you speaking in tongues" You lie over his lap, ass facing him, before you get into more trouble. "Count for me princess" He gives you a hard spank "one" you moan slightly, your clit pressing against his knee every time his hand hits your ass. "Ten" by now it's started to sting, but the pressure on your clit was worth it. Eventually, you make it to 20, and you turn your head to look at Jaemin. "Good girl" he says "I think you can have your reward now" You knew that what that actually meant was It's technically a punishment but I'll let you cum this time cos you took me so well. But you had no complaints.

You lay back down on the counter, as Jaemin gets on top and pounds into you without a warning, causing you to let out a loud moan. He thrusts faster and faster, managing to get deeper every time. You moan loudly and your breath but he's in your throat when he finds your g-spot. He looks pleased with himself, smirking and pounding harder. You feel your orgasm coming closer. You arch your back and your hips buck as the knot in your stomach gets tighter. Jaemin thrusts harder, repeatedly hitting you g-spot. You lose it, you're about to shut your eyes, but he makes you look at him while you cum. Moaning loudly and your legs shaking uncontrollably, you cum all over his cock and he cums inside you. You're both finished, and he continues to fuck you. He was overstimulating you, and it hurt. "Jaemin" you breath out, tears stinging at your eyes. "We ain't done yet" he says.

Requests

[intheticklecloset]

SK8 the Infinity Sentence Starters #11-20

A collection of the SK8 the Infinity sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

11) Lee Miya, Ler Reki

“Somehow we need to persuade him to let you have that skateboard for an hour or so,” Langa murmured, watching Miya as he hung out in the shop, looking bored, skateboard tucked under his arm. He’d come in to “pick them up” and take them to see one of his skating matches in person, but as soon as he’d entered the shop and Reki had seen his board, he knew it was in no condition to be used in a competition. One of the wheels was about ready to pop off, which was a hazard to say the least.

Reki had tried to convince him to let him fix it, but Miya was insistent that it was fine. The redhead hummed, considering a moment before nodding to himself. “I got this.” He shuffled around one of the tables and walked up to the younger skater. “Yo, Miya.”

“Are you ready to go now, slime?” Miya asked by way of reply, looking up at Reki. “I’m not going to wait all day for you, you know.”

“I need to fix your board, Miya. It’s dangerous to ride on it right now. Surely a professional like you can see that.”

Miya pressed his lips together, clutching his board tighter. “It’s fine.”

“Let me fix it. It’ll only take a little bit, I promise.”

“No.”

Reki sighed and cracked his knuckles. “All right. I didn’t want to have to do this, but as your friend, I can’t let you go to a competition on that board.”

“What are you talking abo-OUT?! Gahk! R-Reheheheki, nohohoho!” Miya doubled over in giggles when Reki latched onto his sides, tickling gently but firmly. “Stohohohohohop! I’m not a kihihihihid anymore!”

“Doesn’t mean tickling won’t work on you,” Reki laughed along with him. “Come on. Let me fix it.”

“Nohohohohohoho!”

“That’s cool. I can do this all day if you want me to.”

“Reheheheheheki!” Miya squealed, finally dropping his skateboard to use both hands to grab onto the redhead’s wrists, trying and failing to pull him away. “Plehehehehehease, stohohohohop! You can fihihihix my bohohohohoard!”

Reki ceased his tickling attack, smiling at the younger skater. “Great! I’ll get right on it. You’ll thank me later, trust me.”

Miya shoved him away, cheeks pink. “Just go, slime,” he muttered, but he was still smiling.

*

12) Lee Miya, Ler Reki

“I’m gonna get you!” Reki teased playfully as he chased Miya around the park, fingers wiggling teasingly.

“Back off, slime!” Miya shot back, launching himself up the tiny set of stairs leading to the playground. “You’re too big to fit up here!”

“Oh, am I?” Reki quickly proved him wrong by climbing up after him, then ducking under some low-hanging play pieces on his way to the smaller boy.

Miya yelped and practically threw himself down the nearest slide, taking off at a sprint toward Langa, who was sitting on a park bench nearby, eating a sandwich and watching them nonchalantly. “Langa, make your stupid boyfriend leave me alone!”

Langa just took another bite and waited as Miya took refuge behind him and Reki hurried to catch up, still wiggling his fingers.

“You know, Miya, you’re just making the tickle monster even more excited to play with you~”

Miya’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “Shut up! I’m not a kid anymore!”

“Doesn’t mean the tickle monster isn’t going to eat you up when he catches you~”

Reki vaulted over the bench, taking Miya off-guard just long enough to finally catch up to him. He tackled the smaller boy into the grass, surprised and amused to hear that he was already giggling hysterically. “Nohohoho, nohohoho! Dohohohohon’t!”

“Whaaaat? I warned you what would happen if you ran.” Reki smirked, gently skittering his fingers along Miya’s sides. “Now the tickle monster has you alllll to himself to play with~ Isn’t that lovely?”

Miya squealed, giggling harder and kicking his legs. “Lehehehehehet me gohohoho! I’m not a tohohohohohoy!”

Reki chuckled, grabbing into his ribs and vibrating, making him burst into laughter. “Hmm…the tickle monster thinks otherwise, little Miya~”

*

13) Switches Reki and Langa

The pillow hit Langa square in the face, and Reki burst into laughter. “Gotcha!”

Langa grinned, grabbed his own pillow, and chucked it at the redhead, who dodged it expertly and then picked it up himself, brandishing both in the air like trophies.

“You’re ridiculous.” Langa beamed, climbing onto his friend’s bed to try and wrestle one of the pillows from his grip. “Give me that.”

“Never!” Reki declared, trying to push Langa away with his bare foot. The blue-haired boy struggled for only a moment before finally deciding to switch tactics, grabbing his ankle and scribbling his fingers over his exposed sole. The redhead shrieked and flopped back onto his mattress, giggling hysterically. “Nohohohoho, dohohohohon’t do thahahahat!”

“Oh?” Langa gripped his foot tighter and kept it up, smirking. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Ahahahahaha! I’m g-gohohohonna—!” Reki suddenly wrenched his ankle free and shoved Langa back harder than intended so his friend was half-dangling off the side of the bed, his hair brushing the floor while his legs scrambled for purchase on the mattress. The redhead quickly sat on him to keep him from falling, reaching forward to squeeze his hips and sides rapidly. “My turn! Tickle, tickle, tickle!”

“Nahahahahahaha! Nohohohohohoho!” Langa pleaded, his cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink as he laughed helplessly, unable to sit himself up to fight back. “Plehehehehehease!”

“Aw, can’t get away now, can you? Tough luck for you~”

Langa blindly reached for Reki’s knee, succeeding in giving it a hard squeeze, making Reki squeal and fall off the bed as well. Soon both boys were on the ground, wrestling each other for dominance, grabbing any ticklish spot they could reach.

“Gihihihive it up!” Reki giggled, drilling into Langa’s ribs. “You’re mohohohore tihihicklish than me!”

“Thahahahahat’s a complete lihihihihie!” Langa shot back, shoving his hand under Reki’s shirt to scribble at his tummy. “You lohohohose every tihihihihime we have tihihickle fights!”

“Nohohohohot thihihihihis time!”

“Oh yeheheheheah? Prohohohove it!”

Reki and Langa continued to tickle each other until they were totally worn out and surrendered at the same time.

*

14) Lee Langa, Ler Reki

Reki had to hand it to Langa – the guy was really good at remaining calm.

During a sleepover that had inadvertently become boring after they had to remain quiet for Reki’s younger sisters, the redhead challenged Langa to a “don’t laugh” competition. The catch? Tickling was allowed, and actually, tickling was the only thing they could use against each other to make each other laugh.

So far Reki had grinned, yelped, jerked aside, and generally reacted every single time when Langa poked or squeezed or scribbled over one of his many, many ticklish spots. But Langa had done exceedingly well in remaining as stoic as possible. He may have jumped once or twice, but so far Reki had yet to get even a twitch of a smile from him.

Well, that was about to change.

Langa reached forward and lifted his shirt slowly, teasingly, wiggling a single finger in front of his face. That was another rule that Reki had long since regretted adding – you couldn’t resist or fight back until the tickling actually started. So he had to sit there and watch as his best friend lowered that wiggling finger towards – and eventually into – his navel.

Reki giggled, pulling away upon contact.

Langa smirked at him. “You laughed.”

“I didn’t laugh!” Reki replied indignantly. “I giggled. There’s a difference.”

“Sure.”

“All right, your turn.”

Langa wiped the smirk from his face and held perfectly still as Reki finally went for the sweet spot that he knew would work. He lifted the blue-haired boy’s arm and scribbled into the exposed armpit with a vengeance.

“Nahahaha – okay, okahahahay!” Langa giggled, then laughed in a panic when Reki refused to let him go, following him as he struggled and began to topple over. “Reheheheheki! You wihihihihin!”

“I know,” Reki replied with a giant smile, drilling both hands into both of Langa’s underarms, forcing him to burst into laughter and lose the challenge even harder. “Now I’m claiming my reward!”

*

15) Lee Reki, Ler Langa

“Hold still – you’ll get paint everywhere.”

“I cahahahahan’t help ihihihit!” Reki protested, clutching the throw pillow to his chest with everything he had, doing his best to stay still and make Langa’s job easier. “It tihihihihihihickles so bahahahahad!”

Langa smiled, gently brushing the paint-covered brush up and down Reki’s bare soles, taking care to cover every inch. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“Why cohohohohohouldn’t I just stihihihihick my feheheheheet in the bucket?!” Reki tossed his head back and shrieked. “Gahahahahahaha not the tohohohohohoes! Lahahahahahanga!”

Langa chuckled, amused by Reki’s struggle. He gripped his friend’s ankles tighter when he tried to jerk his feet away. “Hold still, I said.”

“Plehehehehease, I cahahahahan’t! Hurry uhuhuhuhuhup!”

Langa dipped the brush in the paint bucket, giving his friend a brief respite before swiping it down his arch carefully, holding him firmly in place despite the squirming and loud cackling Reki was letting free at this point. The redhead started pounding his fists into the pillow, tears springing to his eyes from the strain of trying to hold still for this stupid art project.

“I cahahahahan’t, I cahahahan’t! Plehehehehease, Langa! I cahahahan’t do it!”

“Come on, I’m almost done. Just a couple more swipes.” Langa smirked. Truthfully, he’d been done painting Reki’s feet a few minutes ago. He just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make his friend laugh helplessly like this when he thought he couldn’t fight back. He dipped the brush again, then swirled it in tiny circles over the heel of his opposite foot. “There’s a small spot right here that needs a little more.”

Reki brought the pillow up to his face and screamed into it, laughing hysterically, his pleading muffled against the cushion. “Plehehehehease, stohohohop, Langa! Plehehehehehease! No mohohohore!”

“Just a little more.” Langa dragged the bristles under Reki’s toes. “You’ve got this. Just hang in there.”

Reki pulled the pillow back down, revealing a his pink, tear-streaked cheeks and uncontrollable smile, and Langa beamed, loving every bit of it. He made sure to take his time covering every inch of Reki’s feet with the paint. The redhead could surely handle just a little bit more.

*

16) Lee Miya, Lers Reki and Langa

“Give it back!” Reki cried.

“No!” Miya curled in on himself, cradling the package of cookies to his chest. “They’re mine!”

“They’re meant for everyone,” Joe said calmly, chuckling at the scene. “Be nice and share, Miya.”

“You’re not my dad,” Miya spat, wrenching away from Reki’s hold on him. “Let me go!”

Reki growled, lunging for him again. “Don’t make me tickle you, Miya. I’ll do it!”

Miya yelped, darting around both Reki and Joe to try and get to the door, but suddenly Langa was there, standing still as a tree even as the smaller boy plowed into him at full force. He barely even stumbled. “Share, Miya.”

“No!”

Reki grabbed him from behind, startling a loud squeal out of the smaller skater, followed by rounds of helpless giggles as the redhead tickled his sides. “Gotcha! Give them here, Miya. Don’t make me tickle them back from you.”

“Nohohohoho! They’re mihihihihihihine!” Miya snickered, still clutching the package even as he wiggled and squirmed.

Reki sighed dramatically. “Langa?”

Langa tried prying Miya’s arms away from the cookies while Reki continued to tickle, but when that didn’t work, he started helping his friend instead.

“Aieeehehehehehehehe! Nahahahahahahaha!” Miya was practically crushing the prize they were all after at this point, giggles turning to laughter as Langa joined in on the fun. “Stohohohohohop! No fahahahahahahair!”

Joe chuckled, finally joining the fray by coming up behind Miya and unwrapping his arms easily. Langa reached out to grab the falling package before it hit the ground.

“Ah! Okahahahahay, you’ve gohohohot your cohohohohookies! Let me gohohohoho!” Miya squealed. He struggled in Joe’s hold but went nowhere fast, and Reki just kept tickling him, smirking at his newfound helpless state.

Joe shrugged, holding Miya’s arms above his head with ease. “Sorry, kid. You asked for it.”

Langa blinked, considered for a moment, then set the cookies aside and went back to work helping Reki tickle Miya silly. All three of them enjoyed the sound of his laughter for the next several minutes, and Miya would be lying if he said he wasn’t having fun with this ticklish game, too.

*

17) Lee Reki, Ler Langa

“You’re not going anywhere,” Langa chuckled, grabbing Reki by his ankle and pulling him closer, quickly moving to straddle the already giggling redhead.

“No, please – Langa, plehehehehease! No!” Reki shot his hands down to grab at his friend’s wrists, but he couldn’t stop the fingers that were suddenly wiggling into his belly, squishing and tickling the pudge beneath his t-shirt. “Stohohohohohop!”

“What’s the matter, Reki? A little ticklish?” Langa beamed down at his friend, enjoying the pink blush and panicked giggles and wide eyes staring back at him with glee. “That’s just too bad, isn’t it?”

Reki squirmed and kicked, going absolutely nowhere and loving every second. Langa rarely got playful with him like this, so when he did it was always more exciting than if it were anyone else. Still, he arched his back with a shriek when Langa found his belly button and wiggled into it. “Ahahahahaha Lahahahahahanga!”

“Oh? Did I find your tickle button?”

“Dohohohohohon’t cahahahahahall it thahahahahahat!” Reki protested, his giggles morphing into laughter the longer his blue-haired friend stayed in that spot. “Plehehehehehehease!”

“You’re so ticklish, Reki.”

“I knohohohohow! Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhup!”

“I like making you laugh, you know.” Langa was speaking so casually, it was only making this tickle so much worse. “I especially like that I only have to poke this tickle button to get you giggling.”

“Agh – shut uhuhuhup, I sahahahahahaid!”

“Don’t want to.”

“Lahahahahahanga!” Reki pleaded, the steady tickling really driving him insane now. He shook his head as laughter poured from him in uncontrollable bursts. “Plehehehehease, stahahahahahap!”

“Why should I?”

“It tihihihihihihickles so bahahahahahad!”

Langa only smirked and kept it up in a slow, steady, relentless rhythm of gentle tickle torture. “I know it does~”

*

18) Lee Reki, Ler Langa

“This is childish!” Reki cried, trying to bite back his laughter as he struggled against Langa. “And I’m not a child anymore!”

Langa kept up with him relentlessly, finally managing to snatch a wrist to keep at least that hand from punching him as he drilled into his friend’s side. “What’s childish is that you stole my juice box. My juice box, Reki? Really?”

“I w-wahahas thirsty, and y-yohohohou weheheren’t drinking it anywahahay!” Reki’s voice turned pleading the longer Langa tickled him. “Stohohohohop!”

“I wasn’t drinking it yet,” Langa corrected him, though his smile was playful. “Jerk. I was looking forward to that apple juice.”

“Okahahay, look, I’m sohohohohorry! Lehehehet me go!”

“Hmm…nah.” Langa suddenly dove right for the sweet spot – Reki’s tummy. In an instant the redhead had toppled onto the floor from the force of his laughter, squirming and kicking desperately, especially once his friend slipped his hands under his hoodie to scribble at his bare skin.

“GAH!! NONONO LAHAHAHAHAHANGA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Reki tried to grab Langa’s arms desperately but only managed to weakly tap against him, his own laughter working against him, sapping his strength. “I’M SORRY, I’M SOHOHOHOHOHORRY!! I’LL BUY YOU ANOHOHOHOHOTHER ONE!! PLEASE!!”

Langa laughed with him, shoving his hoodie up so he could find his navel easier, dipping a finger inside and wiggling mercilessly. He enjoyed Reki’s screaming laughter and pleas for mercy for several seconds before finishing off his attack with the loudest, longest raspberry he could manage right above his belly button, forcing the redhead into silent hysterics.

At last the blue-haired boy had enough, and he sat up, releasing his friend with a smile and a quick ruffling of his hair. “There. I think that’s about one juice box’s worth of tickle torture, don’t you?”

Reki shoved him away playfully, trying to hide his smile and blush. “I hate you.”

“I’m sure you do.”

*

19) Lee Langa, Ler Reki

“I don’t think you understand how much this means to me,” Reki said, swinging a leg over to straddle Langa, who looked back up at him with a confused smile.

“It’s just tickling, right?” His friend inquired. “How meaningful can it be?”

“Oh, where do I begin?” Reki cracked his knuckles and reached down to wiggle his fingers against Langa’s ribs, making him sputter out his first giggles. “Tickling is fun, but it’s also a total loss of control. The fact that you’re willing to let me be in control and make you laugh is so awesome. It means a lot to me, you know?” He danced up and down his sides. “I like hearing you laugh. Really laugh.”

“You’re ohohohohonly kind of in controhohohohol,” Langa pointed out through his snickering. “You’ll stohohohohohop when I ahahahask you to…rihihihihight?”

“Right,” Reki affirmed immediately, smiling. “I suppose you have a point. We’re both in control, aren’t we?” The redhead began walking up towards his underarms, then suddenly shot up and drilled into them, making Langa shriek and explode with cackling mirth. Reki beamed. “I still feel really good being the one to make you laugh like this, though.”

“AGH!! REHEHEHEHEHEHEKI!!” Langa screeched, his laughter bright and happy and louder than either of them had thought possible from a soft-spoken person like him. “EHEHEHEHEHEASY!! IT TIHIHIHIHICKLES – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Reki grinned. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

“NONONOHOHOHOHO NO TEHEHEHEHEHEASING!! REHEHEHEKI!!”

“You know, that pink blush of yours really goes with your hair.”

“SHUHUHUHUHUHUT UP!!”

“Nah~” Reki chuckled, deciding to give him a slight break by going back down to his hips and belly instead. “I think you like it just as much as I do.”

*

20) Lee Miya, Ler Reki

“I hate you,” Miya giggled, staring up at Reki with wide eyes and a huge smile he couldn’t contain no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the wiggling fingers approaching his belly. “I hate you – I h-hahahahahate you!”

“Aww, really? That makes me sad.” Reki smiled playfully, slowly reaching under Miya’s hoodie to gently trace his fingers along the skin of his stomach. “You were practically begging for this, and now you hate me?”

Miya flushed bright pink. “I – I was not! You just…you tricked me!”

“Tricked you? How?”

“By…” Miya scrambled to find an answer. He knew as well as Reki did that he had been asking for this, just not in as many words. Still, he wouldn’t give the slime the satisfaction of knowing how badly he wanted to be tickled. “By…um…”

“Better think fast,” Reki teased, beginning to scribble. “Soon you won’t be able to speak at all~”

“W-Wahahahahait! Wait, no – Reheheheheheki!”

“Tick-tock, Miya~”

The younger skater was blushing completely now, twisting his face to hide in his arms which were pinned above his head. “Ehehehehehehe! Nohohohohoho!”

“Time’s up!” Reki suddenly dug in firmly but gently, sending Miya into fits of sputtering giggles and cackles, enjoying how his face lit up with a bright, happy smile even as his body instinctively tried to squirm away from his fingers. “Uh-oh! Looks like someone’s a little tickle, tickle, ticklish!”

“I hahahahahahahate you!” Miya screamed again, dissolving into helpless hysterics the longer the redhead teased him and tickled his sweet spot like that. “Reheheheheheki! You jeheheheheherk – I hahahahahahahate you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Reki smirked, slipping a finger inside Miya’s belly button, making him throw his head back and explode with laughter. “I think the tickle monster can convince you otherwise~”

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding VII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI

CONTENT WARNING: Please be advised this chapter may contain triggering material. More detail available in tags. 

It wasn’t until Anakin was staring at the hot sauce bottles and solitary mysterious green takeout container that he remembered they were at war, and therefore no longer in the habit of restocking the apartment’s cold stasis.

“Obi-Wan, there’s nothing to eat!” 

"I know!” came the call back. “I’m trying to meditate!”

Anakin closed the stasis door and walked back out to the common room. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged on the window sill.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” the knight quipped.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look fondly at the man standing before him. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke alone in a dusty desert hovel, he would regret letting himself play pretend for so long. Maybe this whole day would fade from his memory like a dream.

But right now, he felt... peaceful. He wouldn’t claim to be satisfied by the explanations he imagined for Anakin, but it would have been far more disturbing if he somehow came up with an actually sympathetic justification for genocide. He got to say and hear a number of goodbyes. He even got to cry over Anakin with the comfort of his presence. 

Now he had to let go, to be there for Luke. (And he could always get more spice...)

“I guess if you need to meditate, I can go pick us up food from the Temple Tapcaf.” Anakin offered. 

“Thank you, Anakin. Today...helped. More than I can explain.” Obi-Wan said softly.

“I- I don’t really deserve that. Considering it was all my fault.” Anakin bowed his head, helpless for words, but uncomfortable with being praised.

“Not every terrible thing that has happened is your fault. You made a series of terrible choices, yes. But there were, there are, other dark forces at work and not a single Jedi in the order was able to stop them. At least for a short time today I was able to set that aside, so for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“Kriff.” Anakin said shocked. “Of course there’s more. Ok. That’s all right, we-” he was cut off by a growl from Obi-Wan’s stomach. 

A snort of laughter escaped before Anakin smacked a hand over his mouth. “Alright, I’m going to the Tapcaf, you just...meditate until I get back.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded, “I love you so much.” 

“Force Obi-Wan, you’re going to make me start crying again.” He pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not gone, ok? Just...meditate. And drink some water.”

"Hmm, I don’t know. Some of my best choices recently have been stupid,” Obi-Wan laughed. The words were light, but Anakin felt a prickle of unease, a hint of danger. There was no clear cause, and Obi-Wan seemed relaxed but...

Anakin gripped his Master’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I promise.” He pulled Anakin down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Anakin.”

"I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” He paused, then mumbled, “i love you too” before speeding out the door.

Obi-Wan settled back into meditation, reaching inwards. Everything but his body and the light within faded. He magnified his hunger, his thirst, visualizing the pack of dried jerky in his hut, the precious jars of water in the basement. He could almost feel the heat that never quite abandoned Tatooine, even during the short nights. He opened his eyes

and saw the temple apartment.

He shut them again quickly. He was sure he could snap himself out of this. He sank deeper inward, careful to leave his shields perfectly intact. With the galaxy as dim as it was, a real show of force had the potential to grab attention across star systems. Force purging toxins, fortunately, was more a matter of internal concentration than outward power. It was one of the first skills Obi-Wan had truly mastered as a Jedi, thanks to numerous kidnappings at the start of his apprenticeship and hard drinking towards the end. 

It was uncomfortable to be that keenly aware of one’s kidneys, but Obi-Wan managed. It was less intense than a healing trance, anyway. His heart rate increased as various metabolic processes sped up- and almost immediately slowed down. Huh. The drug must of almost run its natural course, and now he 

still in the temple.

Kark. Shit. 

‘Breathe’ he thought. Stress was only going to increase his chances of a stroke. Alright, so meditation wasn’t working. Maybe he could try for longer, but part of him was nervous that if ‘Anakin’ returned he’d lose the willpower, and so far the passage of time had been extremely linear. He was too invested in the fantasy at this point for anything easy.

Remember your training. Your eyes can deceive you, do not trust them. 

Padawans were taught three main methodologies to move beyond mindtricks, hallucinations, visions, and the like. Looking In, Reaching Out, and Breaking Out. 

Looking in wasn’t working. That left the other two options. In the past, when his senses were lying to him he could always trust in the force, but now...it was just too much risk. Reaching out like that, with his whole self, meant the chance of finding someone.

That left breaking out. Obi-Wan jumped up, staring intensely at the details in the molding, the stains on the carpet, at everything. At no point today had he spotted objects fading to grey in the corner his vision, or ripple as memories from different time frames overlapped, but surely there must be some weak point.

Nothing. 

Shit, he really had stayed too long. Alright then, time for more uncivilized measures.

He walked to the kitchen and pulled their butcher’s vibroblade from its block, holding it to his neck, then hesitated.

This had to be done, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling. It was his own fault for lingering in the delusion so long; all the more palatable paths to escape had closed off, and after all he had been through he refused to die from a drug overdose. Gods, it might take years for someone to find the body.

He steeled himself, bringing the blade back up decisively only to drop it with a clatter. Pressing a hand to his throat, he was unnerved but not entirely surprised to find a stinging line of pain. His hand came away wet with blood. He instinctively pressed both hands to the cut, pulse rapid and heavy and slippery beneath his palms.

It’s just a hallucination. It’s just an extremely vivid hallucination.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan then, and he felt something in the pit of his stomach drop in horror.

What if...what if the blade was real. What if he was actually moving around his home right now, hazily sleepwalking in a pantomime of the peaceful stroll and tender embraces he was imagining. It would explain the immediate relief from the water this morning...hadn’t he found his way to food and water even dazed from sleep-debt and blood-loss during the war?

He had a vibroblade in the desert too...

His pulse pounded harder beneath his hands. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but for the first time Obi-Wan felt the true existential horror of his current trap well up. If he didn’t know where the walls were...how could he escape.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging and letting go of his panic.

He had the force. He would just have to be delicate in his application. He picked up the bloodied tool from the floor but decided to simply to clip it to his belt for now. A force-null object would be harder to distinguish at first touch.

Obi-Wan walked to his temple bedroom and opened the barest crack in his shields, just enough to reach out, get a sense of existing currents in the force. He stirred at one until a small vortex of light formed. To anyone looking, it would appear a naturally occurring, low-powered whirlpool, common enough on Tattoine. Any gentle moves he made in the minutes before it fell apart would hopefully be obscured by its wake.

He hesitantly laid a hand on the lightsaber on his bedside table, lowering his shields a little further. His heart sunk when he realized that his memory had even recreated the perception of force-imbued temple walls in the periphery. The Kyber in his saber reverberated with a familiar song. He jerked his hand away. That felt too much like his real lightsaber. He couldn’t risk it. 

Before Obi-Wan truly began to panic again, he realized something missing. Anakin’s- Darth Vader’s saber. Since picking it up on Mustafar, the crystal in it had screamed at him, halfway to corruption. When he touched the blade he could almost feel... feel what horrors it had been bent to commit.

Most of the time he left it buried under a rock pile in his basement, too afraid to work on healing it.

He couldn’t hear it now- but he could feel the memory of what it used to be.

It sat innocently on his Anakin’s bedside table. There was a tinge of darkness to it of course- this saber had only ever known war. But when he rested a hand on the blade it was clear this belonged to the memory he had walked with today, not the tyranny of reality.

Grasping it firmly, he marched back to the windowsill and settled, intent on his choice. Sunsets here couldn’t compare to tattooine- they were just too different. The binary play transformed the infinite horizon. It was something on Tatooine he unabashedly marveled at.

Courasant, on the other hand, transformed the sun into a reflection of itself. Untold millions of transparisteel buildings refracted the star painfully at some points while casting shadows on the rest. The filter of light through constant smog resulted in strange shades of neon green and blood red. It was beautiful, but uncomfortable to look at too long.

He closed his eyes and pressed the saber to his chest.

---

Anakin was impatiently waiting in the hot service line when the urge to return to his apartment insistently welled up again. He pushed it back of course- Obi-Wan needed food and Anakin couldn’t keep putting his own selfish impulses in front of his Master’s wellbeing.

He held out for a few seconds, but the itch was getting stronger, sharper. He looked down at the tray- it already had most of Obi-Wan’s cold favorites, but he really wanted to get him his favorite soup if the line would just move a little faster. He jolted when, for the first time that day, Obi-Wan’s shielding thinned the slightest amount. Not enough to get anything clear, but the fact that there was movement at all...

He left the line; they could always come back together if Obi-Wan wanted. Hells, maybe they’d do a late night visit to Dex’s for some real comfort food. Anakin still couldn’t get a sense of what Obi-Wan was up to through their muffled bond. He felt a buzz in his ears, not unlike the moment before an enemy blow.

He picked up speed, tea sloshing in its thermoflask. An elder looked at him annoyed as darted around him.

He started speed walking in earnest as the feeling got more intense. A sandwich fell to the wayside.

Speed walking quickly switched to jogging, then running; there was a shout of complaint as he ditched the whole tray carelessly behind.

He took the last few hallways at a full-out force-assisted sprint, the Force itself screaming at him to move. A small part of his mind thought we’re safe inside the temple Obi-Wan promised not to do anything stupid i’m going to get such shit for freaking out over nothing. 

He sensed nothing from Obi-Wan over the bond; not a hint of fear or anger or surprise. He blurred around the last corner, feeling like he might throw up with his increasing, unexplained panic.

Not caringabout anything butgettingto Obi-Wan beforeitstoolate he smashed down the door at the same moment Obi-Wan, sitting peacefully by the window, turned on the lightsaber pointing directly at his heart.

Time seemed to slow. Splinters of the door frame hung in the air as Anakin desperately pulled the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan in the half-second between activation and ignition.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

Blue plasma pierced Obi-Wan’s chest as time caught up. Pieces of the wall shattered like shrapnel as he turned, shocked to see Anakin. The saber flew away in a straight arrow. 

Anakin threw himself to Obi Wan’s side, wildly trying to draw heat away from the searing hole before it could vaporize the surrounding flesh. He couldn’t tell what the saber had pierced, or how far it had gone in considering its last second movement.

One hand trained on a hundred battle fields robotically reached for his comm-unit to call for emergency medical assistance. His mind however, had largely been left behind a few minutes ago, when he was trying to pick what Obi-Wan would want to eat for dinner.

What came out his mouth was more incoherent shrieking than anything else, but he had at least called the correct line for temple aid.

He threw down the comm, focus intent on controlling the smoldering burn. The air around them seemed to boil and Obi-Wan started struggling to get away. Anakin bodily held him down, finally finding words,

“What the FUCK, OBI-WAN! YOU LITERALLY JUST PROMISED NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID! YOU PROMISED!”

“that’s why- hkk I  have  to” Obi-Wan rasped.

“Karking Fuck.YOU- STOP MOVING!”

Anakin felt a twinge of danger come from the side but was too focused to do anything but shift his body as shield. A sharp pain pierced his gut but he ignored it. 

The air crackled with heat and power as the wound beneath him cooled. A faint trickle of dark blood oozed out, probably burns breaking from recent movement, considering the instant cauterization. He couldn’t see any light coming through, which meant he had moved the saber at least a quarter klick before it activated, Anakin thought semi hysterically.

Finally, someone showed up to investigate the disturbance. In truth, probably less than a minute had passed since Anakin entered the room, but he really didn’t care.

“HELP ME!” Anakin shouted.

“What happened?” Mace Windu asked grimly, falling to the ground next to them. Not waiting for an answer, he set his lit saber aside and placed his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead, stilling the violent thrashing.

Anakin opened his mouth but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know. 

“General Skywalker, report.” Mace Windu commanded sharply. 

“I left him alone to get dinner for us. I ran back and when I broke open the door he was holding the lightsaber to his chest. I tried...to pull it away. It pierced him, and I’ve been trying to manage the initial burn risk. I called for medi but I don’t know their eta.”

“They’re behind me. How did you get stabbed?” the Master demanded.

“How did I what?” Anakin looked down to see a vibroblade sticking out from his left side. Right, the pain from before. Obi-Wan suddenly mustered up the energy to wake up despite his state and Windu’s compulsion. He looked around wildly before yanking the knife from Anakin’s side.

Anakin gasped, but managed to still his brother’s hand using the force before he could finish bringing it up to his neck, which Anakin just noticed was bloody.

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!” Anakin screeched.

“...I’m...not....I’m....trying.....to...” 

But before Obi-Wan could finish the sentence, the healers finally arrived, pushing Windu aside to grab hold of Anakin and Obi-Wan. He could feel a buzz of energy go through him, stopping at the growing damp patch at his side. He tried to push the man away but the heat in the room was starting to make him dizzy

“I’m fine! Focus on Obi-Wan.”

Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard from the man, said, “You’ve been stabbed Anakin. Let the healers help both of you- you’ve done well looking out for him.”

Obi-Wan, still occasional thrashing was being loaded onto a hoverstrech for transport. A second stretcher waited next to it. 

“Master Windu! He’s fighting us,” Master Che called sharply. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself,” Windu replied flatly. “His wounds are self inflicted and he’s violently fighting assistance” 

There was a beat as that information was processed. Knight Bant, who must have arrived at some point, said in slightly less flat voice, “He displayed erratic behavior earlier today, and I ruled out drug interactions.”

“Thank you, Knight Bant.” Master Che plunged a syringe of some kind into Obi-Wans thigh. He finally stopped attempting to fight, falling down onto the board. “Red team, with me. Orange, you have Skywalker,” She instructed sharply. 

Anakin numbly watched most of the healers leave with Obi-Wan through a hole in the wall. He slowly started to stand and somehow ended up guided into a seat on the hoverboard. Looking down, he was surprised to see his tunic cut away in favor of a large bacta patch. 

“Hey,” he protested. “Who stabbed me?”

“We can discuss that after you have surgery,” A Human healer replied. Master Covamos, he thought.

“This is my fault” Anakin said, suddenly urgent. “I shouldn’t have left him. He told me goodbye, he was saying goodbye all day, I should have...”

“You saved his life,” Windu interrupted. “You got to him just in time, don’t waste your energy on should-haves. Now sleep.”

Anakin wanted to argue more, but instead found himself laying down, vision blurring. His face felt damp, had he been stabbed more than once? Windu said a few more words he couldn’t quite make out. There was a brief stinging sensation, then everything faded away. 

----

Part VIII

[ateezinmymind]

Numb

Rocker! Hongjoong x reader

angst, fluff ending

tw: smoking, drugs, alcohol, foul language, vomit, depressive symptoms, sexual harassment and toxic behavior—please don’t read if sensitive!! I don’t condone these acts <3

~you wanted to be more like him and less like you

~“fuck off! I don’t want to see that shit-face of yours again!!” ~

Tears streaming down your face, staining the flesh with a trail of black from your running eyeliner. You can’t get those last words out of your head, taking in a breath of smoke, and exhaling through your nose. Trying to ease the pain of abandonment—you contemplate what you’re going to do now.

Standing up from the concrete staircase you’ve been sulking on for the past 15 minutes,, burning out your cigarette—you make your way down to the only place you can think of..

The blaring sounds of screams and cries piercing your ears—the smell of alcohol and smoke,, bodies together,, this...this was it. This was where you could let go...let loose..and live.

“I am a cancer. I am a creep. I am the black sheep”

Hearing those booming lyrics-you look up to the stage. Finding the lead singer screaming into the mic—and bouncing with his guitar. From the eyeliner to his ripped-chained pants..you were sucked into a void. Eyes burning from the atmosphere,, head pounding—now heart aching. You couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Hey baby..can I get you something?” —snapping out of your self destructing trance, you look up to the raspy voice speaking to you.

~“Let me buy you a drink...you here alone?” ~

The buzzing effect in your body-taking you away..you felt numb. You didn’t feel right,, blurred vision, limp body—you were useless. Feeling your head being shook and lightly slapped, trying to blink your way to clear sight—you started to fade..

hearing the lone sounds of laughter and booms—everything felt underwater. You couldn’t quite see, hear or breathe. Maybe this was what you needed..no one loved you anyway. For fucks sake-you got kicked to the curb tonight—by your shitty once called boyfriend. Who which you caught cheating—and to which led to you being pushed out the door-with nothing but a pack of cigarettes and a twenty dollar bill.

You were drowning,, choking, needing air. Desperate..everything turning black,, it was what you deserved... until—

“Hey bitch!!”

jerking conscious from the ice water—wet, cold and vulnerable..you’re surrounded by big figures. Your body finally awake, the smell of the place hits you like a truck. Only causing your body to respond naturally—meaning dry heaving. Choking—you weakly stand up to be towered by the looming men. Clutching your stomach—you needed the bathroom, slapping your hand over your mouth to control the potential mess. You wobble forward..clearing a path to your destination— All while the lead singer watches you from afar....

Barging into the bathroom you’re met with a couple making out by the sinks, and the stench of regurgitated essence. Only causing the feeling in your stomach and throat to worsen..abdomen convulsing you knock through the stall—and spill your guts. Face flushing from the lack of air—your nose and throat burn, and your stomach churns with sickness. Flushing your vomit down the toilet—your mind hazes once again...and soon enough you black out against the stall wall—helpless.

———

Hongjoong hasn’t seen you come out of the bathroom for the past 20 minutes..he was starting to get anxious himself. But he still had to finish his last song before ending tonight’s show-

“You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick”

The bright lights—beaming all different tones of red and blue. He lived for the stage, the rush of adrenaline when the whistles and screams came. Hongjoong was meant for the spotlight—his soul voice, talent for the guitar-and his aura in all. He was a performer,, meant to please his audience—and when he saw you come in tonight, all ragged, sad and helpless. He couldn’t stop watching you, you were everything he wasn’t. And when those men spiked your drink—he wanted to kill them so badly, but he didn’t want to risk his place.

Sweat pooling down his face, hongjoong finishes the last song—

“Everyone wants a ride. pulls away, ooh—from you”

The screams from people lungs, the jumping of bodies close together, and the sweet sweet feeling of glory—all lasts for a second....

Jogging down the hall towards the women’s bathroom, Hongjoong gets stopped in his tracks. A girl extremely tipsy, reeking of alcohol puts her hand on his chest. “Heyyy..youurrr, yyou’re that s..singer guy...” trying to push her away—she only falls to her knees. “Excuse me—move” not understanding his words she squeezes hongjoongs thighs, then wraps her dirty fingers around his pants chain and pulls him forward. “S..Stop being sooO difficult..lemmeee make youu feel g..GOood” rubbing him she fiddles with his zipper

“What the fuck! Get off me bitch!” Pushing her head back she lands on her ass, and hongjoong steps over her with disgust. “Go give some other fucker a blow” taking a deep breath, he tries calming his raging thoughts of the drunk woman. Speed walking to the bathroom, barging through the door he screams at the couple grinding on each other “GET THE FUCK OUT!!-“

sending them running away, he sees your bare legs from under the stall. Pushing it open-he wants to hurl, but seeing you unconscious he swallows the urge down. “Hey-babe?” Shaking your limp body, causing your head to slide off the wall and hang down. Quickly hongjoong holds your neck in place and examines your face and body.

Your damp hair and top-makes him curse under his breath...how dare someone put something so fragile through hell? Why did he feel the need to help you so bad? Was it because of your differences...that he felt the need to protect you. And harm all the people who decided to put you down, and treat you like shit..

Trailing his eyes down, hongjoong sees your legs-scraped, cut and bruised, then he can’t help but notice your attire. The big T-shirt dress wasn’t doing its job in covering your lower half well, when sprawled on the bathroom floor, so he decided to help,,picking you up and taking you to somewhere safe...

———

The shooting feeling of your head pulsing caused you to wake finally conscious.. not knowing where the hell you were. Under the sheets of an unknown bed, surrounded by band equipment-you started to panic. Breath staggering-heart racing, eyes tearing up you quietly sobbed.

What did you do?? You’re in a strangers bed, and who knows what they did to you. Wiping your eyes you look down—dressed in a loose navy shirt, and boxer shorts...definitely not what you wore yesterday. Sniffles fill the empty room, and the smell of your hair comes to realization. Shit..someone really cleaned you up..

Heaving in a sharp breath—you feel your heart speed up..shit~not now..you can’t lose your mind right now. Someone can come get you-and you’ll be defenseless and weak against them. Ripping at your legs—trying to feel your way back to yourself through pain..you just whimper. Taking your head between your hands, hanging low—tears fall on the bed covers. The sounds of your sniffling cancel out the foot steps advancing your way through the hall-

“Hey~you’re awake”—jerking your head up to the mans voice..you immediately regret it, because your skull jolts in a jabbing pain. Making you cry out and curl in a ball, holding your head. “Wo..woah,, you okay babe?!” Hongjoong speeds to your suffering self. He didn’t know what to do..looking at the sheets and seeing your tear droplets..he can’t help but scoff. You have problems, it’s unreal...how can someone be so destroyed—physically and mentally??

Unscrewing the lid to the cool water bottle he brought in, he sits himself next to your hunched self. Placing his hand on your soft hair, he gently brushes strands out of the way..so he can see your face. “I know you probably have a million things on your mind right now..but I need you to drink some water-please” the mans voice somehow soothing the tightness in your chest, you open your eyes

His damp hair covering his eyes, his gentle hands gripping the water—you weakly slowly started to make your body lift.. eyes continuously leaking tears, you gently reach for the bottle. Slightly grazing his hand, you quickly look into his brown orbs in apology. “Sorry—” Just from talking to him out loud you feel pressure coming up again. Heaving in a deep breath-trying not to crumble again already just in the span of minutes, “what am I doing here?”

As Hongjoong watched you take a swig of water he softly reached his hand with nails painted black to wipe your cheek of tears. “Well...you were unconscious—so I wasn’t just going to leave you there like a shithead..” gulping, and putting the cap back on the empty bottle you take in his words. Your body being overwhelmed with awkwardness, you cover your face and whine. “You b-bathed me..and put me into n-new clothes..”

hearing Hongjoong chuckle out, you quickly uncover your face with shock. Why was he laughing at you?!! What did he do?? “Don’t worry~ I didn’t do anything to you,, just cleaned you up...I wouldn’t make moves on a someone not aware of their own decisions..” looking back down to your legs your mind begins to turn against you once again...

~Of course he wouldn’t do anything to you..no one would want to anyways. You don’t deserve anything, because you’re no good for anything.~

“Are you okay??” Cupping your head, you slowly give him a nod..eyes pooling with warm fresh tears. You blink away the blurriness, trying to calm down and speak again. But all you do is choke out a broken cry, “I s-shouldn’t be here...I don’t even know you, I don’t know where I am...and I-“ looking away from him, staring at your bandaged legs. Droplets falling onto your skin, you sniffle and realize your once broken skin that was decorated with cuts and bruises were now covered and protected.

“I understand..please forgive me, I’m hongjoong..I’m the lead singer and guitarist from the band you heard playing last night-“ lifting your head by your chin, he gives you the softest look. “y-yes I recognize you..I’m y-y/n-“ finally giving you a bright smile, and taking the bottle from your grip Hongjoong slides off the bed. “So what’s your story?-“

———

Walls broken down—exposed to the male you only just met a week ago...you’re starting to feel not so drifted from the world. Slowly regaining and healing...all thanks to him, all thanks to the person who is the complete opposite of you. He’s given so much to your little self, and you took the time, to breathe....take in the good and actually find meaning to live. Overcoming cruelty that fed the blazing fire which spiraled your self valuing into the pits of hell..

he saw you when you were drowning, in need of help.. and made you feel worth living for. With Hongjoong, there would be no more doubt, he..the man in the spotlight, chose you....

Who would’ve thought you’d turn up here.

Where this new beginning started....

But only this time, you weren’t in it alone....

“Before we start up tonight, I want to introduce an important person.” adrenaline coursing, blinding lights, aggressive shouting and screaming filled the hall... “Everyone, this is Y/n...”

————————————————————————

tagging my wife @hongjoong-a-holic 🥺

~this is kinda a mess...don’t really know what I was doing....I’m sorry

lyrics from: black sheep by palaye royale + black sheep by kailee morgue!!⭐️

[ushidoux]

Birthday Boy - Kuroo x Reader

Summary: Office man Kuroo wants the usual for his birthday. (~1.4k words)

Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader, public sex, office relationships

A/N: Kuroo annoys me but I can see the appeal. Happy birthday Kuroo!

---

You typed the last sentence of your business proposal for Friday, taking an extra bit of satisfaction in typing the last period before hitting the save button, then took a deep breath before leaning back in your chair. With one additional thing checked off your list for today, you made a quick check at the clock next to you to check how much longer you had until you could leave this place and move on with your life.

20 minutes left. You could do this.

“Didn’t you forget something today?”

Almost a bit startled, you looked up to see the company’s vice president, Tetsuro Kuroo, grinning down at you slyly, chin perched over the edge of the cubicle. You hated that he was tall enough to do that despite the fact that the cubicle walls were higher than typical - it felt like he had special access to you somehow.

You smiled politely, even though you and he both knew you couldn’t exactly stand him - in fact, you had made it pretty clear a couple months ago that you thought he was somewhat of a prick in the corner of an office party, and miraculously had kept your job (sleepless nights were finally behind you and you would never get so drunk at a company event again).

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Tetsuro?” You said with mock extreme professionalism, as you printed out your proposal and rose to get to the noisy printer located outside of your small office space.

He leaned against the wall, smiling at you as you passed him.

“It’s my birthday, of course,” he said, now following you leisurely into the copy room, and you could feel the hairs on your neck stand on end as he stepped just outside of sexual harassment distance. “Where’s my present?”

You pulled your stack of papers out of the printer, shrugging off the irritation building inside you and went to focus on stapling copies of your day’s work together.

“Happy birthday,” you offered passively.

He stood beside you, grabbing another stapler to help you with your task uninvited.

“Why thank you, Ms. ___. I was waiting to hear good wishes from you. It was all I waited for all day, in fact,” he said, with a furtive glance at you that you pretended not to see.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need help,” you insisted. Before you could reach over, he nudged you playfully with his hip, blocking you out of his way. 

“You never need anything, Mrs. Independent,” Kuroo teased with a laugh, “but don’t worry, I got you.”

Before you could protest and snatch the sheets of his hand, he raised the sheets of paper higher than you could reach, forcing you to have to jump once or twice, stopping only once you were in a flustered mess, embarrassed by the fact that you were actually jumping in a pair of heels and a skirt in public.

“You are so fucking annoying! Do you know that?” You huffed finally in frustration, now standing completely still despite seething with annoyance. “Just go home, don’t you have someone new on your “hit and quit” list anyway?!”

Before the words left your mouth, you regretted them ever coming out and you whispered a short “Shit” under your breath as Kuroo’s eyes grew wide and devilish. You’d triggered him in just the right and wrong way. You glanced quickly at the door to ensure no one was outside to see what had just happened and what was about to happen, then considered making a quick run for it because yes, you had just given this sexy asshole ammunition and yes, he was absolutely going to lose it.

As expected, Kuroo blocked your way out of the room with quick side steps to the left and to the right, making your heart start to pound in your chest, and finally after a quick look outside as well to clear the surroundings, he held you close in his arms.

“Oh, it looks like someone’s been a bit jealous…,” he crooned, rocking you back and forth softly first before as he released you and backed into the open door, quickly and smoothly locking the door behind him. “So jealous, you won’t even wish me a happy birthday, my little bunny?”

Fuck.

“Kuroo, don’t,” you whispered under your breath, but he was already walking towards you, eagerly loosening his tie, and by all that was good, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted even if it was against your better judgement.

He started by backing you into the wall by the copy-printer, planting a soft kiss on your lips, then pecking down your jawline to your bosom, his hands steadying themselves on your hips hugged by the classic but quite form-fitting pencil skirt you had decided on wearing that morning.

“Don’t what?” He breathed into the crook of your neck, as slender fingers started to unbutton your blouse, giving him access to the soft pillows of your breasts and pert nipples.

“W-we’re in public… not... not here.”  You were already starting to forget your protests as his lips closed around a mound sending heat rushing to your center.

“It seems like you need reassurance,” he reasoned. “Let’s think of it as a sort of quality assurance project, what do you think?”

With that, more fingers made their way down the hem of your skirt, pulling then dragging them down so that he could press a digit right through to your pussy now damp and soaking your undies. 

“I don’t know why you keep wearing these tight ass skirts in the office, how the fuck are we supposed to get a quick fix during work breaks?”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you retorted, pushing him off of you as you struggled to shimmy the skirt off quickly yourself.

“I mean, you’re really bad at playing this pretend game. Like my dad owns this company, why do you think it would be a problem if everyone else found out we were fucking?” Kuroo added, as he unbuckled his pants and rolled down his dress pants for you. You took a look at his large member as it popped out from the waistband of his pants, but when you saw his smirk at your hungry expression, you rolled your eyes before bending over the printer for him. 

“You talk so fucking much, Kuroo.”

“Wow! Cursing at me? On my birthday?” He protested with mock offense, but instead retaliated with getting a hard grip on your hair with one hand to pull you back towards him.

“Kuroo!”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a full hour of head, bunny!” He quipped, before breaching your entrance in one fluid movement. “Oh my goodness, it really is my lucky day, you really are just dripping for me.”

At this point, you should have been wondering what exactly had gotten you involved with this obnoxious man, but when he started a quick pace, thrusting you forward back and forth while you steadied yourself on the poor abused office printer, your tsundere act started to crumble. 

As he expected.

The room filled with the sloppy noises of cock entering cunt, over and over and over again, soft whines, suppressed grunts and moans, and the whir of buttons inadvertently being pressed. Despite Kuroo’s abrasive behavior towards you in the office, he could manage to be tender when he railed you, offering a soft hand to cover your mouth as you struggled to keep quiet and loosening his grip on your hair in favor of running his hand through it tenderly. 

As your walls continued to clench and tighten around him, milking him of all he was worth, his moans started to get more uneven, and he breathed deeply before laughing softly, leaning in you.

“You’re awfully quiet, babe,” he teased, his voice more tender this time.

So are you, you wanted to say, but then your coil snapped, and sensing this, his hand clamped tighter over your mouth as he pounded you even harder and you wanted to scream.

Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo…

Your orgasm was freefall, and soon he fell with you holding you all the while, his hand still clamped over your mouth and his other hand now pressing against you to hold your convulsing body still, you always came so violently when you were with him, so much a firecracker you were.

When the high finally faded, you both redressed in satisfied silence, staring at each other with renewed longing, only to be startled by hard raps on the door. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at each other then at the door.

Had you finally been too loud?

“There’s cake for whoever’s in there for VP’s birthday,” you could hear one of your coworkers finally say with exasperation. “I don’t know why you always use that room for so long, you can work in your cubicle, ___.”

Kuroo stifled a laugh as haughty footsteps headed away from the door, before kissing you on the forehead.

“Do you wanna get some of VP’s birthday cake or have you already had enough of VP?”

[justasimptm]

The Bride  C 18

When mother asks me how it went I lie and tell her it was fine, he just needed a little bit of blood. I tell her the reason it took so long was because he had asked me to help him with the Cadou. I don’t mention that he tried to kill me, that Karl showed up and saved me. I don’t tell her that I drank from him, or that part of me is aching to go back and see him again. My story satisfies her despite its gaps and she lets me go, tells me she’s proud of me and dismisses me to go do whatever I want. I find myself wandering down to my old studio. The room had been kept up with, which is nice, the maids typically finding moments of peace whilst airing it out and checking on the supplies. My sisters aren’t allowed in here.

This studio was a gift from my mother when I was very young, she swears up and down that I’ve always had a talent for painting. Once she even took one of them on one of her trips, said it sold for enough to bring me back new paints. I always thought she said that to try to make me feel better, to get me out of bed. The room seems to be holding its breath, waiting to see if I’m going to sit in it or if I’m just going to leave. I quietly make my way over to the desk, my sketch book sitting on top of it. I run my fingers over the cover, feeling the coarse material catch on the creases of my skin.

Without much thought I reach forward, grabbing one of the pencils from the top of the desk, scooping the sketch book and moving towards the small couch by the window to sit. Art is one of those things I can just do without having to think too much, it lets me zone out and relax and think, while also keeping myself busy so I don’t get antsy. It takes a minute before the pencil starts flowing across the page, but once it does I quickly lose myself in my thoughts.

I start by reminiscing on my youth. When I was very young my father left my mother, she sat alone in his office for weeks, barely eating, she had the servants take care of me. Now I realize she was grieving, but then it felt like she left me. That was really the last time she really was my mother. She came out of that room a different woman. Colder, calmer, like the eye of a storm. She had picked herself up and rebuilt herself into another person. Within weeks she had redone the entire castle, removed all traces of the man that lived there, treating him like nothing more than a random person who had stopped in. The only thing that was left was the few pictures and trinkets I had managed to smuggle out of her path and hid under my bed.

The hurt he left stayed though, and boy did she project it. Lashed out against the servants, getting rid of the men we had hired, replaced it with an all female staff. She grew distant from me for a few years, until I hit puberty. At that point I started growing out of his features and she could finally look at me without seeing his face looking back at her. There were about two years that were good, before they went right back to bad. I was 15 when I started getting sick. It took months before we could figure out what was wrong. A doctor finally did some tests, ruling that I had inherited a rare blood disorder from my mothers side.

My mother had it too, they realized, but it was affecting her far slower. In my case it had progressed in the drop of a hat. It was like my veins were filled with sandpaper. My blood wasn’t flowing right, almost like it was drying out. The doctors said if they couldn’t find a cure I wouldn’t make it past 19.

She spent the next three years scrambling, trying to find a cure for me, for herself. Miracle cure after miracle cure, everything was failing, and by the time I turned 18 I gave up. But 18 turned into 19, and surprising everyone I kept living. Every movement felt like a wildfire, any food felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Then 19 turned into 20, and that’s when everything changed. When my mother got back from trying to save us again she had become a monster, and in turn forced me into the same life.

It took me several months before I decided to try accepting what she did. By then she had created the others, my siblings. When I first saw them I wanted to throw up, but there was nothing in my body to reject. They had been so grateful, so happy of the new life they were given, and when they realized I wasn’t they were furious. They used to poke at me until I would snap.

Once I started feeding and getting stronger they didn’t change their tunes, still rude and immature, only acting polite in front of mother. When we met the others who were more like my mother, I was surprised. Miranda had welcomed them into her ‘family’ just as she accepted us, and my mother was furious.

I still remember when I first met Heisenberg. He had walked into the house like he owned it, brushed by me like nothing. He didn’t talk for a while at that meeting, only sprinkling in replies once in a while. When Mother Miranda had introduced us all, his eyes didn’t move from the spot they were fixed on the entire time. After the meeting was over, he essentially fled. Mother went on a rant for hours about how disgraceful his behavior was, how clearly he didn’t want or deserve the gift he was given. After she said it I realized that was likely part of his withdrawn behavior, and for a while I sympathized, until he became just like the others.

From that point on my entire perception of him shifted. He wasn’t someone I could understand, he was someone who was on the other side of a line I didn’t want to cross. Until now. Now he’s someone I’m somehow getting close to. He’s there when I need help, he’s been kind and funny and has actually listened to me. Part of me is nervous because what if he tells my mother what I said, but that part is silenced quickly, because I know for a fact he hates her. He might not say it, but it’s obvious in how he behaves around her.

Maybe we aren’t as far apart as I first thought.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130 @happygalaxymilkshake @dreamslittlebitch

[brittababbles]

Target Practice

Din Djarin x female reader          

Authors Note/Warnings: Well… this is Young Din, and Young Din was a wild child. He’s about 23 here. So… warnings, let’s see. A hint of dub con, various somewhat light bdsm elements (tying up, blindfolding, biting without drawing blood, overstimulation), possessive Din, drug use, Din’s a mean lover. I don’t know you guys, this just kind of came out…

You ever have the feeling you’re being watched? you think, feeling the hair on your scalp prickle slightly.

Even across the hanger, easily a thousand meters away, with at least ten people between you, you can feel the Mandalorian’s gaze upon you. It makes you shiver, though certainly not from cold. Hardly. The hanger is hotter than sin today. You’ve stripped down to a thin, practically transparent slip of a shirt and a tight pair of shorts. Which is maybe what is drawing his gaze. Maybe.

You swivel on the spot and return his stare, meeting the line of his visor solemnly. He’s leaning casually against the loading ramp of his ship, the ship you’d worked so hard to repair over the last week. He’s completely ignoring the activity behind him as the crew loads the Razor Crest for a job. No, he’s not interested in that. He’s interested in the long expanse of bare skin of your legs, the way your top clings to your breasts. You can’t even see his face, but you can feel it in his stare.

It wasn’t completely unjustified. You were lovers, of a sort.

You’d never once seen his face; no one had, as far as you were aware. But you knew enough. He was a 20-something young human man under all that beskar. Young, and fiery. It came out in waves as he pounded your body into his mattress.

You tried hard not to think about what he did when he was off the station. You’d heard that Twi’lek cackling as she retold the story in the cantina.

Target practice…

Not that you were surprised particularly. It was just so… brutal.

But that wasn’t an especially unwarranted descriptor when it came to Mando. Brutal.

You turn your attention back to the blaster you’re repairing, and with the comings and goings of ships in the hanger, manage to miss the Razor Crest’s exit. When you look back up, he’s gone.

The job will take hours. You shrug to yourself and focus on your work.

When you straighten your spine several hours later, it’s quiet in the hanger. A few odd engineers are scattered about the large room, but otherwise there’s very little movement. Deciding you need a break from your small pile of half-repaired weapons, you stand and stretch, reaching your arms toward the ceiling and arching your back.

A gloved hand snaked around your throat. There’s no pressure, but you gasp all the same.

“Come with me,” his modulated voice growls in your ear.

You put up no fight. Why would you fight him when a faint buzz is growing in your belly? He steers you almost mechanically through the corridors, passing nobody along the way until he reaches his quarters. Without a word he opens the door and shoves you inside.

He’s on you in an instant, crowding you, pressing you backward into the bed. His beskar is cold; you can feel it through your shirt easily.

“Looking so pretty, out there where anyone can see you, hmm?” he hums softly, pinning you beneath him.

Abruptly something cool snaps closed around your wrists, and he deftly adjusts your arms until he can lock the binders to the thin metal bars that make up the headboard of his bed. You squirm, adjusting to your new position, as he leans back to admire the way you’re stretched out before him.

“So lovely. But even in this, I think there’s more to see,” he says.

He caresses your collarbone gently. Then, abruptly, seizes the neckline of your shirt and rips it clean down the middle. You give a soft squeak of surprise as the much-cooler air of his bunk hits your skin, making your nipples pebble. Mando tears more strategically at the sleeves, ripping the shirt off your body completely. You eagerly lift your hips, allowing him to finish undressing you. Then he wraps the ruin of your shirt around your eyes.

He’s off the bed in an instant. The room goes dark as you stare at the ceiling, already breathing heavy. You hear the sound of metal impacting metal as he discards his armor. There’s the unmistakable hiss of the locks of his helmet, a final muted clang of the beskar hitting the floor, and then silence.

Without warning, he’s between your thighs, making no effort at subtly. He bites harshly at your legs, causing you to yip with each impact.

“Mine,” he growls, “your pretty little legs are mine, cyar’ika.”

His voice is no longer modulated by the helmet. The tenor of his words spread up your spine.

“That pretty face is mine. Your ass? Mine. And this wet little pussy? Whose pussy is this, (y/n)?”

You crane your neck to look at him, knowing full well you can’t see a thing, and gasp out your answer as he slowly sinks a finger inside you for emphasis.

“Yours” you whimper.

You feel him grin against the skin of your inner thigh.

“That’s right, sweet girl. It’s all mine.”

His lips impact your pussy so suddenly that you find yourself trying to scurry up the bed. He pins you down with one arm slung across your pelvis, slipping the finger on his other hand, already buried inside you, out only to push two in. His tongue swirls around your clit, eagerly laps at your lips, then returns to your clit again. You don’t realize you’re shrieking, only that there’s some sound filling the room. He pulls your orgasm from you rapidly, far faster than you’ve ever come, stroking your insides with a pair of calloused fingers as you clamp tightly around them. Your hips try to buck against the pressure from his arm, but he’s far too strong for you to throw him off. You’re gasping for breath, eyes rolling, when the soft ripple of his laughter finally penetrates your brain.

“Good girl,” he purrs, slipping his fingers out of you and arching over you.

You’re far too out of touch with reality to respond, and barely notice as he reaches off to the side of the bed momentarily.

“These perfect tits are mine too, sweetheart.”

You feel something powdery fall across your chest. The strange, harsh scent hits your nose a moment later. Spice. He presses his face to your breasts and snorts the powdering substance off your skin.

“Oh, Maker,” you groan, unable to contain your words

“Not quite, sweetheart,” Mando mumbles.

He nuzzles against your chest for a moment, though you can practically feel his skin warming under the influence of the spice. His hips are cradled between your legs and you can feel how hard he is against your oversensitive skin. He strokes his fingers over your ribcage before abruptly rearing back to inspect his work on your pussy.

“Think you’re wet enough for me, sweet girl?”

You whimper in response. You can feel the soft press of the head of his cock against your entrance as he waits for your answer.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he says smugly.

“Yes,” you whisper, “Yes yes yes please…”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He sheaths himself in you in a single thrust, punching the air from your lungs as he does so. The stretch is magnificent, and you gulp in a breath of air before letting out a cry of his name.

“Mando, gods, Mando, please…” you whine as he pounds relentlessly into you.

You have no idea what you’re pleading for, only that it feels like the only thing you can say. Your cries mingle with his grunts of effort. His fingers wrap around one of your ankles and you suddenly find your leg draped over his shoulder. The angle allows him to somehow hit a deeper spot inside you. You can feel your body tightening, the spring under your skin preparing to release. You want to scream, but he’s pounding into you so hard you don’t think you can catch your breath enough to scream.

“Uhn. So tight. So perfect. Come for me, pretty girl,” he growls

As abruptly as the first, this orgasm hits with the force of a sucker punch. You writhe underneath him, shuddering as electricity tears up your spine. You finally let out a scream, feeling your pussy clamp down on him. It doesn’t slow his pace at all, however, and he continues to pound you straight through it. You twist your free leg around his hips in an attempt to draw him closer, fuller inside you somehow, as the throbbing inside you eases slightly.

“Mando, Mando… Mando,” you chant his name at him.

“That’s my girl. That’s my girl,” he answers, equally as mindlessly.

More unexpectedly than anything, your body reacts to his words in a third orgasm so strong you arch off the bed, nearly yanking your shoulders from their sockets in the process. Your vision blinks with stars as your head presses downward, shoving your chest further up into his. This time he groans, and his thrusts lose their rhythm. You’ve got his cock in a vice and his ragged thrusts seems to drag the walls of your pussy with them.

Abruptly, he lets out a loud groan, arching away from you and pulling himself from inside you. You feel something hot spill over your breasts. He groans again and collapses into your chest. You can feel his cock twitching against your thigh. His full weight is on top of you, but the solid mass of his body is oddly comforting in the moment.

“Oh, cyar’ika,” he mumbles into your skin.

Lazily, almost as if it’s a reflex than an actual thought, Mando reaches up and unlocks the binders around your wrists. The moment your hands are free, you tangle your fingers in his hair. His curls are lightly dampened with sweat. You scratch your fingernails against his scalp lightly, earning you a languid moan. He slowly arches down your body, coming to rest with his head near your chest.

You’re so distracted by the sensation of his body weight that you don’t notice the catlike licks to your breast until he’s nearly finished. It penetrates your stupefied brain that he’s lapping his own cum off your chest, and the thought alone makes your pussy clinch.

“Mando…maker….Mando…” you pant.

He smiles. You can feel the edges of his teeth on your breast.

“Ready to go again, cyar’ika?” he purrs.

You moan. He chuckles softly.

“I guess so…”

 You wake up on your back, your eyes still covered, aware of the weight of one of his arms slung across your midsection. The room is pitch black, but you make no move to take off the blindfold. You reach out carefully, finding the soft strands of his hair with your fingers. You brush a little curl off his forehead, earning you a soft grunt.

“Good morning, sweet girl,” he mumbles.

You don’t answer but continue to trace his features unseeingly. Mando closes his eyes, seeming to enjoy your touch.

“I’m sorry I was little rough with you last night,” he says slowly.

“A little?” your voice cracks and harmonizes with itself, still recovering from your shrieks of the night before, “Mando, I can still feel you inside me.”

“Good,” he mutters, leaning forward and capturing your lips with his.

He pulls the breath from you with a single, deep kiss. You drape your arms around the back of his neck and twist your fingers into his hair. He gives a soft groan into your mouth, making you shudder under him again.

And then he’s gone, his weight fully removed from you as he unclasps the binders from his bed. You hear the clatter of metal again as he reapplies his armor, then something soft drapes across your chest.

“You can’t walk the corridors like that,” he says slyly.

Unable to find a response, you trace the object on your chest and realize it’s one of his own shirts. You hear the door open, then close, and you abruptly yank off your blindfold.

You’re alone in the room. The ruins of your shirt hang in one hand. The sheets are tangled around you, showing the full evidence of your exertions the night before. Carefully, you shimmy into Mando’s shirt, then hunt up your shorts from yesterday and pull them on. Your legs feel weak, wobbly, and you lean against the wall while getting your bearings.

When you’re sure you can walk the distance to your own quarters, you slip from the room, hoping to catch nobody’s eye as you slink along the corridor. There’s no glint of beskar; Mando’s nowhere to be seen.

When you reach your own bunk, you slide inside and immediately rip his shirt from your body, inspecting the marks he’s left across your breasts, your ribs, your belly. You pull the shirt to your face and inhale his scent slowly before sinking into your own bed, feeling oddly empty without him near.

[adventuresinwonderlust]

girl, hello :3 i see request open, so i wanna request sumn hehe

can you do silver hair mafia!yoongi where he would be intimidating on the outside but actually a caring and soft man towards his lovely baby in the inside 🥺 but somehow on some day they had a fight due to misunderstanding and that leads to steamy making love and just making his baby orgasms multiple of times 🤧🤧 shhss thanks !!

Title: The Misunderstanding

Pairing: Mafia! yoongi x reader ft. Jungkook and Jin

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, violence (TRIGGER WARNING) fists, guns, and garrote used.

Rating: 18 and over

Request for @flowerblu00 I hope you enjoy! Thank you for being so patient with me. So much love to you!

Permanent Tag List: @mochilicious-yoongi @heyimtavia

Yoongi:

“Just give us the name of your distributor and we can end this now.” Yoongi sighs, looking over the restrained and bloody man before him. “Never. They’ll....kill me.” The man pants, writhing in pain. “Do you think I won't? Or your family for that matter?” Yoongi threatens, nodding to Jungkook, who immediately begins pounding at the face of the bound man. Yoongi watches blankly as Jungkook makes a punching bag of the man's face, wondering to himself when he became so unbothered with violence. “Please.” The man wheezes from his broken nose. “Enough Jungkookie.” Yoongi raises a hand. Jungkook lands one more punch before standing to look at Yoongi. “Just let me kill him boss.” Jungkook grumbles. Yoongi simply shakes his head. “Let’s hear him out first.” “I work.... for.... Alexa Van Ness. She’s, my distributor.” Yoongi nods at the confession. “Now was that so hard?” The man immediately begins to cry, blood dripping from his lips. “Just let me go.” He whimpers. Yoongi scoffs, looking at Jungkook, “And let her get the satisfaction of killing you. Never. Jungkookie, finish this.” Jungkook nods, turning towards the man. “Noooo! Please! Have mercy.” “This is mercy. Imagine what she’ll do to you when she finds out you turned on her.” Yoongi explains, exiting the room.

He takes a seat at his desk, lifting his head at the loud bang that comes from the room he just left. “Boss, you needed me?” Jin emerges into the office. “Yes, get Alexa Van Ness on the line please. Tell her I have an offer for her she won't be able to refuse.” Jin nods, walking out of the room. Jungkook enters the office now, wiping his hands on a handkerchief. “What do you need me to do boss?” He nods over to Yoongi. “Get rid of the body, clean up in there, and get lost.” Yoongi grumbles. Jungkook nods and leaves out the way he came. Jin pokes his head in, “Boss, AVN is on line 1 but your wife is on line 2.” Yoongi sighs deeply, waving Jin away. He knows he’s been working a lot and that Y/N has been suffering. His business has taken a hit recently due to an unknown competitor stealing clients from him, and he has put all his efforts into finding out who his competitor was. As much as he wanted to ignore the call, he couldn’t avoid her forever. Yoongi clicks the line, placing the receiver on his ear, “Hello my love. I know I've been so busy lately. I’m sorry. I can't talk long but I promise to make it all up to you tonight.”

“Well, well, well. Min Yoongi, had I known this was going to be a confessional call, I would've kept you off speaker phone.” Yoongi clears his throat, sitting up straight, and looking at the phone to see what line he clicked. He fumes seeing line one a steady red and line two flashing on hold. “Alexa, you misunderstand, this is a courtesy call.” “Oh, is it now?” “It is. Your men are weak, and they’ve given you up. I say we call a truce and come to some sort of agreement to make this work. Unless of course you prefer something a little more.... messy.” Alexa laughs on her end, causing Yoongi to grind his teeth in annoyance. “Oh, Yoongi, a truce? Why on earth would I do that? You see I have the upper hand here not you. That is apparent isn't it or else why would you be calling at all? Maybe working together would be something that suits us better. How about you and your love attend my annual benefit this evening and we can discuss this further unless it's YOU that are interested in seeing how messy things can get? You decide, I'll send the invite over to your office right away. Hope to see you there Yoongi.” She hangs up immediately and Yoongi releases a loud yell into his office, slamming the receiver repeatedly onto the phone, stopping when he sees the flashing light on line two.

He lifts the phone to his ear and clicks the line. “Hello.” He huffs. “What are you doing? I’ve been texting and calling your cell phone and you haven't answered me. I had to resort to calling your office which I know you hate. Why aren't you answering my calls? Is everything ok? I worry about you. Hello.” Yoongi closes his eyes listening to Y/N ramble. “Stop.” He whispers. “What?” “Just stop Y/N.” “Stop what? Caring? Calling? Loving you?” “Stop being a fucking pest!!” He shouts. He hears her gasp and then silence. “Look....” He begins. “No, you look! I’ve been dealing with what you do for too long and I always allow myself to take a backseat to it and I get that what you do is stressful but remember who else in your life it affects. Remember what in your life truly matters and what you truly bear to lose Min Yoongi!! Goodbye!!” She shouts. Yoongi sighs, yanking the phone from his desk and tossing it at the office door. Jin soon appears, “JK called, everything's been taken care of...” His voice trails off as he looks around the room, “Are you ok boss?” Yoongi runs his hand through his silver locks, fixing his tie. “Yes, AVN is sending over invitations to her Annual Benefit. Get JK back here and go to my house. Calm Y/N down and make sure she’s ready in an hour.” “You got it boss. I’m assuming you have a plan.” Yoongi nods. “Indeed, I do Jin. Indeed, I do.”

Y/N:

“Why on earth would I want to get all dolled up for him after the way he’s treated me?” You huff at Jin, who peruses through the clothing in your closet. “Because he’s your husband and he loves you. Irregardless of whatever has transpired tonight…” “Or the last few weeks.” You cut in. “Or the last few weeks, you are the most important person in his life.” Jin finishes, turning around with your black off the shoulder corset bodice chiffon gown with thigh high slit. Yoongi had always purchased you random gowns here and there for special occasions but this one you hadn’t worn. You sigh looking over the dress as Jin places it gently on your bed. “Shall I choose your under garments for you as well or can I trust that you’re ok to do so yourself?” He smiles. “I’ll be fine thanks.” He nods and takes his leave to allow you to get ready.

You exit your bedroom after some time, fully ready. Your hair curled and pinned to one side: your makeup soft but lip bold. Jin looks up from his phone and hops out of his seat. “Stunning as always. Shall we?” He reaches his hand out to you and leads you towards the door. You head out into the parking garage, and he assists you into the car. You say nothing to your husbands second in command, but rather look out into the bustling city as it flies by. You are surprised to find that you drive by Yoongi’s office building. “Jin, where are we headed?” “A benefit party for AVN Enterprises.” Your brow furrows, “AVN Enterprises? Why?” “Best let Yoongi explain.” You roll your eyes at his answer. “He hasn’t explained much these past few weeks.” “Just stress Y/N. After tonight, there will be nothing more to worry about.” You simply hum in agreement.

Yoongi:

“We should head in, no?” Jungkook asks. “I was hoping to go in with Y/N on my arm, but Jin is still about 20 minutes away.” “We can wait boss.” “No, it's fine. Let's go.” Jungkook nods, exiting the car and running around to open the door for Yoongi. Yoongi exits and heads towards the flashing lights along a bustling red carpet. “Guess she’s invited all of Seoul.” Jungkook whispers to Yoongi. Yoongi follows the crowd getting stopped by a security guard who presses his hand into Yoongi’s chest. “I’d mind my hands.” Jungkook threatens. “It’s ok Jungkookie.” Yoongi shakes his head at his hot-headed friend. “You can go through the red carpet. The muscle bunny has to go in through the back.” The security guard instructs. “No way.” Jungkook snaps. “Those are the rules.” The security guard shouts. “Tell AVN we enter together or not at all.” Yoongi informs the guard, standing tall, his brows high in frustration. The guard turns slightly, whispering into his walkie-talkie. He side eyes Yoongi and Jungkook before turning to wave them along. “Good boy.” Jungkook teases, following behind Yoongi.

Reporters and cameras are immediately glued to Yoongi, screaming his name. “Over here!” “How do you know Alexis Van Ness?” “Can we get a smile?” “Who’s your friend?” Yoongi poses for a handful of photos and continues past the chaos. “You sure you want to keep with the plan boss? All these cameras and eyes on us tonight?” Jungkook whispers to Yoongi as the enter the event space. “Just follow my lead.” He answers, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Yoongi makes his way through the crowd of people, shaking hands with new faces and conversing with familiar ones. He hands his empty glass to another passing waiter. “Boss. Look. They’re here.” Jungkook taps Yoongi’s shoulder, drawing his attention to the entrance. Yoongi’s eyes widen at the sight of Y/N, wearing a dress that he’s never seen grace her gorgeous body. He can’t help but look her up and down. Her full bosoms peeked out just a bit with each breath, her hips accentuated by the tight bodice, and her gorgeous, exposed leg playing peek a boo with each step. Yoongi’s mouth dried a bit, his cock twitching for her.

He smiled as she approached him even though her face was stern. “You look amazing.” He states once she’s at his side. “Why are we here Yoongi?” “I was invited by the owner of this company. I couldn’t come without my Queen by my side.” Yoongi chuckles as she rolls her eyes. “And the truth.” She snaps. Yoongi leans in, kissing her cheek softly. He slowly moves upward, planting soft kisses up to the shell of her ear, whispering in it. “It’s her darling. AVN. She’s the reason for all my troubles. Stealing distributors, selling in my territories. It ends tonight.” Yoongi moves away to take in his beautiful wife’s expression and she doesn’t disappoint. She looks him dead in his eye, standing taller than she was, and nods. “Whatever you need Angel.” Yoongi smirks, wondering how he became so blessed. “I love you.” He says, pulling her hand up to his lips to plant a kiss.

“And here I thought it was my bed you were keeping warm tonight Min Yoongi.” Yoongi and Y/N both turn to see Alexis Van Ness herself standing before them, stretching her hand out for Y/N to shake. “Alexis Van Ness, I don’t believe we've met.” Yoongi looks over to Y/N who shakes Alexis’ hand. “Min Y/N, his wife.” Alexis shoots Yoongi a wide eyes glance before laughing obnoxiously. “My oh my Yoongi. All that you were saying on the phone, who would’ve thought you were a married man?” “Excuse me?” Y/N snaps. “It’s a misunderstanding.” Yoongi tosses in. “Was it? Why else would I have sent you an invite last minute to my benefit?” Yoongi shakes his head looking at a very pissed Y/N. “I am here to talk business.” “Ah yes of course! Well, when you’re ready of course. It seems you have some things to handle here.” Alexis smiles a shit eating grin at the both of you. “No, it’s fine. Jin and I were just going to enjoy the buffet.” Y/N declares, spinning on her heel and walking off. “Oo, sorry. I hope I didn’t cause I problems with you two.” Alexis whispers. “Of course not. She’s stronger than you think. Shall we discuss business then?” Yoongi responds, looking back to see where Jin has taken Y/N. “She’s in good hands Boss.” Jungkook assures. Yoongi nods, following behind Alexis.

Y/N:

“She’s beautiful.” You tell Jin as he leads you in a waltz on the dance floor. “No woman is more beautiful than you in Yoongi’s eyes.” “He’s been different.” “We’re all different Y/N. We aren’t kids anymore. We’ve grown, changed. His love for you is the same.” “He’s off. Somethings wrong. He’s slipping away.” Jin chuckles. “Why do women over exaggerate everything?” “Why do men under estimate women’s intuition?” Jin sighs. “What if I could ease your thoughts? Would that help?” “Perhaps.” Jin leans in whispering Yoongi’s masterful plan into your ear.

Yoongi:

Alexis leads Yoongi and Jungkook into a meeting room far away from her fanciful party. She signals for Jungkook to grab the door to the private room and he does without hesitation. Yoongi waves Alexis in, “Ladies first.” She smirks, entering into the room where two large men await. “Can never be too careful. You understand?” She raises a brow at Yoongi taking a seat across from him. “Of course. So, let’s talk business.” “So straightforward. Here I thought we’d get to know one another a bit more.” “I don’t like small talk.” “I see. Do you mind?” She raises a small golden cigarette case in the air. “Those will kill you.” Jungkook almost whispers. “Thanks for the heads up hun.” She says lighting one up.

“So, what did you have in mind?” “Partners.” Yoongi states plainly. She giggles, the cigarette hanging from her lip. “Why would I want to be your partner? I’m winning. I have the upper hand here. My people are taking over yours in the distribution game. We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t in fear of losing your status.” “All the more reason to work together. With my status and your connections, we'd be unstoppable. No rival gang would ever think to move on our territory.” Alexis purses her lips, pulling on her cigarette, mulling the idea in her head. “What do you have in mind?” Yoongi smirks. “50/50 partnership. Full ownership to the person left standing in the event one of us expires.” Alexis puts out her cigarette and leans forward. “60/40.” She states. Yoongi scoffs. “Why would I give you 60 percent?” “Because I have the upper hand here.” Yoongi shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “Fine.” “What?” Jungkook interjects. “And I want the muscle bunny. Do you like pussy baby?” “I like my women classy.” Jungkook hisses. Alexis laughs deeply, her head thrown back. “Done,” Yoongi declares, “On one condition. You sign the contract now. Today. I have the documents here on my phone and will have them notarized and cleared with my lawyers. What do you say?” “This is stupid.” Jungkook whispers angrily to Yoongi.

“This isn't some ploy, is it?” Alexis looks between Yoongi and Jungkook. “What do you mean?” “I mean, I sign the documents and the muscle bunny puts one between my eyes?” “We don’t hurt women.” Jungkook clips, looking back at Yoongi with hate in his eyes. “Now that you have your reassurance. What do you say? Do we have a deal?” “Don't do this Boss.” Jungkook heeds. Alexis bites her lip, looking over at Jungkook, then at Yoongi. “Fine. You have a deal.” It’s all Yoongi needs to pull his phone from his blazer pocket and open the documents. He fiddles a bit, changing the numbers around to reflect the updates and slides it over to Alexis. She looks it over, nodding, and using the stylus to sign her name. She slides it back over to Yoongi, who emails it over to his lawyers. “I guess you’re coming home with me Bunny.” Alexis teases. Jungkook eyes her with disgust. Yoongi’s phone pings and he smiles. “All done. Congratulations. We are partners now.” Alexis smiles, looking over to one of the men standing by the door.

Yoongi never takes his eyes off her, even when the big burly man reaches in his coat to pull his weapon. Yoongi simply tilts his heads slightly, a loud pop going off over his head causing Alexis to yelp. She leans her head down when another pop goes off, followed by the sound of two bodies dropping to the ground. Her body shakes a bit, but she still raises her head to see Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch, he just sits still, staring at her. “Your men are fast, but Jungkook is faster.” He drawls. Jungkook stays standing, staring at her. She chuckles nervously. “Please. No one can hear me back here even if I screamed. Besides, you said you don’t hurt women.” “We don’t,” Yoongi assures, leaning forward interlocking his fingers, “But you’ve underestimated my biggest player here. The only player that matters.” Alexis’ eyes widen and she looks at Jungkook who shakes his head and looks past her. Alexis doesn’t turn around instead she stares at Yoongi, whose face lights up at the sight of Jin and Y/N coming out from the shadows. “You see Alexis, your biggest mistake this evening was hurting the one person that means more to me than any of this and well you know what they say. What is it Jungkookie?” “Happy wife. Happy life?” Jungkook shrugs. “Behind every great man is the woman who put him there.” “Yoongi, you misunderstand.” Alexis attempts just as the garrote wraps around her neck. “Time’s up AVN.” He whispers.

Alexis reaches desperately for her neck as she's drawn back into the body of her captor. She makes a futile attempt to take a breath, looking up and into the eyes of Yoongi’s wife. Y/N tightens the rope around her neck, staring down with anger in her eyes. Alexis flails, reaching suddenly for her bag, pulling a small handgun. She raises it towards Yoongi but is thwarted by Jin, who snatches it from her grasp, and places it on the table. Alexis grabs at her throat, then punches at Y/N’s back who in turn leans down to whisper in her ear. “I’d say this is a lesson to never mess with my Empire again, but you won't live long enough to enact these teachings, will you? I suppose then you can take this message with you into your next life. Don’t fuck with the Min’s.” Y/N plants a soft kiss on AVN’s cheek just right before she releases her last breath. Y/N slowly releases the garrote from around AVN’s neck, allowing her lifeless body to slump forward.

“Jungkookie. Jin. Take care of these bodies. Make it look like AVN had a little too much fun at her after party at home.” Yoongi instructs. Jin nods, scooping up Avn’s body while Jungkook plops one security guard over the other and drags them both out of the room. Yoongi stares at his wife, who stands before him with suspicion in her eyes. “You always amaze me my love.” Yoongi says. “Is that so?” Y/N counters, suddenly grabbing AVN’s discarded gun from the table and pointing it at Yoongi. Yoongi takes in a deep breath and leans back in his chair, watching as his beloved rounds the table, gun still pointing at him. “Tell me love, are you going to shoot me with that gun?” He asks.

Y/N:

“What if I am?” You growl, pressing the gun into his temple. “Then shoot me. I’ll gladly die at your hands.” “Did you think she was beautiful?” You ask now. Yoongi smirks. “Yes.” “More beautiful than me?” “Never.” His words cut through you, and you almost lose your resolve. “Then why do you play these silly games? Why have you been so neglectful? Flirting with her?” You shove the gun further into his head. “Is that what this is about? You feel neglected?” Yoongi whispers, his hand making its way into your high slit and gliding gently up your inner thigh. “I... you...” Your words escape you now. “I’m sorry kitten. I was so focused on finding out who was stealing from our business that I left you in the shadows yearning for me.” He explains, rubbing at your clothed core. “Yoongi.” You whisper. “Shh. Don’t worry kitten. I’ll make it better.” He assures you, sliding two fingers through your slit, collecting your juices before easing them into your sodden cunt. You gasp at the feeling, the gun dropping from your hand and slamming onto the floor. He pulls you close to him, your left knee tucked into his right hip. Your right leg holding you up as he pushes his long slender fingers in and out of you with ease.

You press your forehead against his, clutching at his neck, rocking into his working fingers. “Does my kitten like fucking my hand?” “Y-yes.” “Does she like soaking my fingers in her sweet nectar?” You moan out at his dirty words, rocking faster into his working hand. He curls his fingers inside you, pressing deep to touch the tender spongy spot that always leaves you heady. “Y-yoongi. Please.” You pant, clawing at his collar. He kisses your cheek gently, picking up the pace of his fingers. “Yes, just like that.” You mewl. He rubs furiously against your g-spot, kissing your jawline now. You rock in unison with his expert fingers, feeling your body tighten. Your orgasm building faster and faster with each swirl against your g-spot. “Yoongi, oh god. I’m....” “Just cum already kitten.” He whispers against your cheek, taking it into his teeth when you cry out his name. Your orgasm exploding through your core, clenching on his still working fingers. You groan against his neck, coming down from your high. Yoongi removing his fingers from inside you. “I hope you're not exhausted yet kitten. I’m just getting started. I have to make up for lost time.” “W-what?” You stutter. Yoongi standing now, his massive erection creating a tent like look at the front of his dress pants. You moan at the sight.

He lifts you up, lying you along the long conference table. He pulls your dress apart by the long slit, grasping onto your black laced panties. He tugs them down, stuffing them into his pocket. He smirks down at you, slowly lowering to his knees grabbing your legs and resting them on his shoulders. “Yoongi, please. I want you inside me.” “Soon kitten. I promise.” He speaks into your sopping core. He licks up your climax, cleaning your cunt with his soft tongue. You can't help but drop a hand between your thighs to latch onto his gorgeous silver locks, tugging at them and drawing him closer to your center. You gasp a bit at his breath against you from his small laugh. HIs tongue shooting out to separate your slit and explore your aching clit. “Fuck Yoongi.” He moans into your entrance, lapping at your dripping juices. “So delicious. Like honey.” He pants, slurping at your nectar.

You let a slow moan escape your lips, tugging at his hair once again. He growls against you, wrapping his mouth around your swollen bud. You cry out at the sharp feeling. “Fuck Yoongi. Ahhhh.” “Be still.” He slaps at your thigh, swirling his tongue in figure eights along your nub. You can't help but twirl your hips in unison with him. His warm breath and expert tongue working together to bring you quickly to yet another climax. “Oh Yoongi, it's so good. Please don’t stop.” You pant, your hips still twirling. You tug on Yoongi’s hair, receiving a dark growl into your core. He soon grips your hips tightly, pulling your cunt closer to his face, his tongue moving quickly in flashing waves against your sensitive bean. “Yes baby. Oh yes, I’m so close.” You praise your husband, rocking your hips along with the rhythm of his tongue. You whisper his name over and over like a silent prayer, a combination of his saliva and your juices dripping down your ass cheeks. You rock faster, chasing your high, your clit burning with the need to explode. Yoongi feels your desperation, always so in tune with your body. He moves a hand from your hip to your entrance, entering you with two fingers, rubbing your g-spot once again. “Oh. My. Fuck!” You cry out, your orgasm exploding through your entire body, lifting your body upward and then back down again. “Yoongi. Yoongi.” You pant, way past the point of overstimulation.

“Fuck! You’re so fucking hot.” Yoongi pops up, his face wet with your climax. He immediately undoes his belt and pants, dropping them to the ground. He tugs his weeping cock from his underwear, slapping it against your soaked pussy. “God, I can't wait to feel you around my cock.” He breaths out, entering you with ease due to the massive amounts of slick left behind from your multiple orgasms. You both cry out with every inch of his length that fills your greedy core. “It gets better every time.” He breathes against your bosom. He drags you closer to his body and you wrap your legs tighter around his waist. He wastes no time slamming his hard cock in and out of your gobbling center. He shudders against your flesh, your quivering walls his kryptonite. He reaches one of his large hands up to your top and yanks the tight bodice down to free one of your breasts. He immediately latches his mouth around your erect nipple, tugging and suckling on it, never losing his manic pace.

You moan and groan wildly, clawing at his clothed back, needing more of him. “Yoongi, faster.” He unlatches from your bosom, lifting his head to kiss your collar bone. “Always so greedy for my cock. Just dying for me to coat your walls with my cum?” “Fuck yes!” He stands tall, never pulling out, instead grabbing your throat and pulling you into the seated position. He leaves his hand around your neck, staring deeply into your eyes. “Fuck yourself on my cock.” His whispers against your lips, taking you into a deep kiss. He stills and you quickly take to gripping the edge of the table, you lift your hips off the table a bit and take to gliding across his cock. Yoongi drops his gaze to watch his cock disappear and reappear from within you. You’re a moaning mess, your reawakened clit more than enjoying the stimulation brought on by Yoongi’s amazing girth.

“That’s it kitten, milk my cock.” He shudders, looking deep into your eyes now. “I love you.” You mewl. “Say it again baby.” He moans, pulling you closer by your neck to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you Yoongi.” “I love you too kitten. Only you. Only me. Forever.” He grunts, gripping your hips with both hands and picking up his pace. He begins to pound into your cunt like a man wild. You rest your forehead against his, whispering how much you love him. He arches his back, his hips at a new, delicious angle. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, digging your hand into his thick silver mane. “I’m close.” You whisper. “Me too.” He smirks, lowering a hand between you both to rub your sensitive nub. “Oh God, Yoongi.” You cry, your eyes rolling back into your head. Your third orgasm hitting you harder than the first two. Your cunt seizes and you both moan loudly at the pressure it puts on Yoongi’s length. His movements falter for a moment but he recovers fast, moving his hips fast, chasing his climax. “Fuck kitten. Your pussy feels so good. I’m going to cum so fucking hard.” He strains, his head falling back, a long wail escaping his opened mouth.

You whine at the amazing feeling of his twitching cock coating your walls. Yoongi latches onto your mouth hard, pushing his member deeper inside you, his tip pressing against your cervix. You moan into his mouth, feeling his seed spill out and down your ass. He releases your lips, kissing your cheeks, and then your forehead. “I love you so much kitten. I promise to be better, no more miscommunications.” “Thank you Yoongi. I love you too so much. Should we check in with Jin and Jungkook?” He shakes his head. “No kitten. They don’t matter right now. Only you matter. Only us.” You nod, kissing him before wrapping your body around his. He pulls you close, and you’ve never felt safer.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words 

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words 

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list. 

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words 

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words 

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list. 

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words 

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words 

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words 

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words 

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words 

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words 

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words 

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words 

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words 

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words 

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words 

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words 

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words 

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words 

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words 

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words 

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words 

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words 

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words 

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words 

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words 

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words 

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words 

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words 

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words 

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[ragnarachael]

Battle Of Wit

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Word Count: 3,053

Summary: Stephen realizes after your most recent battle that he can't lose you, no matter the circumstance. He's just... terrible at expressing his feelings properly.

Author’s Ramblings: thank the single cup of coffee i drank that drove me this fucking wild to write all of this at 3 am the other day,, i really owe it to u Folgers Coffee (and lest we forget the OBCR album of Natasha, Pierre, and The Great Comet of 1812 for being there for me to scream)

Warnings: kinda angsty at the beginning,, but then soft!!! you just gotta push through the fighting!!

MASTERLIST !    FEEDBACK !   AO3 LINK

“I had it under control—”

“No, you didn’t, actually,” Stephen seethed, cutting you off smoothly as he opened a portal that led into one of the Sanctum’s rooms that was designated to hold the Eye of Agamotto. “You didn’t have anything under control.”

You scoffed as you walked through the static ring, Stephen soon following after you before the portal snapped shut. He was quick to send his cloak flying off his shoulders to the door that was open leading into the New York Sanctum, walking ahead of you to properly place the Eye where it belonged.

So what, you’d gotten in on his fight? Sure you ended up with a few scratches and bruises, but you won, didn’t you?

“I think you’ll find I did, Stephen. Who was the one who was out of commission because they were helping Wong?”

You knew it was a low blow, but you’re trying to make a point here.

Stephen turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, letting his gaze zero in on your form. “I had it. I just had to get Wong to help with a—”

“You can make all the excuses you want!” You exclaimed, holding your arms out in exasperation. “You just don’t want to admit that I helped you out.”

You watched Stephen tense up as he turned his head back to the task he had in front of him. The Eye was officially off of his body and in his hands, held in mid-air as he stopped placing it on it’s small podium to hear you speak.

“Me, someone with mediocre skills in the Mystic Arts but exceptional skill with defeating arrogant, asshole doctor’s who don’t seem to know how to admit they need help.”

The laugh that Stephen was emitting made your stomach twist with fear, but you stood your ground. Your words and his laughter lingered between you two for a long time as he took his time placing the Eye on it's small podium. You tried to brace yourself for what was to come.

You knew what you did was stupid. You've understood that at this point, having the guilt start to claw its way up to your throat to take back what you said. But you had to keep reminding yourself that you were also right. Yes, you were running on pure adrenaline when you finished the fight—which you didn't expect to do. Your hand is still pulsating with pain from the final blow for chrissakes! You're shocked you even put some of your fighting to use—

"If I needed help out there," Stephen started lowly, finally turning to face you completely. His jaw was clenched tightly due to his rising anger, you assumed. He looked... terrifying in this moment. You know you shouldn't feel this way about your significant other ever in a relationship - but this wasn't a normal relationship. "I would have asked."

His voice was almost like cleaning your wounds. Painful, stinging pain that made you flinch the second it touched the open skin. Almost like you were grinding salt into it.

Stephen wasn't happy. Not at all.

"Really? You would have?" You questioned rhetorically. "Because out there, just 20 minutes ago, you didn't."

"Because I needed Wong to do the spell to finish Doom off!" Stephen shouted. You couldn't help but take few steps back, squaring your shoulders as you took a deep breath. Stephen watched you closely as you stopped to breathe before he just let out a harsh sigh and let his hands run through his hair.

His hands stopped shy of the top of his head to tug at the roots slightly.

"I needed Wong for the spell. I had to step away, that's why I knocked him down. Then you—" Stephen pointed at you accusingly while his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose "—you came in and beat him to a pulp! I'm not saying that I wasn't grateful, as a matter of fact, it was amazing. But you can't just do that!"

"And why not?" You shot back, your own voice starting to rise in volume. "Why can't I? I was saving your ass. Do you want me to just let you get killed?!"

"No, but—"

"He had already blocked your powers once in the fight, Stephen," you seethed, keeping your hands balled tightly at your sides. "What could you have done then?"

You watched Stephen try to find the words to reply before you held your hand up in front of your neck, making a sort of cutting motion in front of it, "nothing. Not even your hands would be able to help you then. I don't even know what Wong's capable of, but we both know he was out of commission after Doom hypnotized him. I was the last resort. I was the one who had to do something to be sure we all didn't end up fucking dead in the Mirror Dimension!"

Your throat ached once you were finished shouting, overworked easily from the emotion that's been bubbling inside of you since you stepped foot in the Sanctum. The tension was thick enough between the two of you to cut it with a knife. You hated these moments with Stephen. You truly did, but the idea of Stephen dying in the hands of Victor von Doom was enough nightmare fuel to keep you up for a few nights for sure. You didn't need to question that.

Taking in a deep breath you tried to calm down the stinging in your eyes, tears threatening to spill over your waterline. 

"If you're going to blame me for saving you, then fine. Whatever. But do not think for a second—" you stopped momentarily to try and steady your voice, swallowing thrice before continuing "—that I'd just sit in the sidelines and let you and our friend die."

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, ignoring the searing pain from your wounds you'd sustained from the fight as your face contorted. Stephen wasn't even looking at you now. He was looking at the ground, jaw still clenched. It was like he was thinking. He reminded you of a character in a video game who has been left idle while the player went out of the room to get something. Regardless, you knew you somehow got through to him. If Wong weren't back at Kamar-Taj getting taken care of after being taken over by Doom's power, he would be on your side. You knew he would, because he wasn't as stubborn as your lover. He knew when to admit defeat, and wouldn't be determined to do it himself.

"You're not alone, Stephen," you started slowly, gently. A few careful steps towards him made you realize that his anger had dissipated a substantial amount. "You can ask for help. I would be there in a heartbeat."

Stephen all but twitched when you finally decided it was okay to place a gentle hand on his forearm that had the fabric of his robes clinging to him.

It was in this moment you realized that the battle was one of the hardest the three of you had attempted to date. None of you had been prepared for Victor von Doom in the slightest. You were flying blind for the most part. Hell, Stephen and Wong didn't even know about Doom's ability to successfully perform mind transference until it happened.

"You.. You..." Trying to find the words you were wanting to say started to become hard. You were quiet for a while after you said that, trying to pick apart your brain to actually speak. "You can pass the weight of the world on your shoulders to me. To Wong. We've both signed up for this Mystic Arts gig just like you."

Stephen stayed silent. You didn't blame him. Now that your anger has dissipated, you really dug into him and the guilt that was absent from your throat had returned in full force. 

Regret, you realized. That's what you were feeling. Stephen was a capable sorcerer. He was so goddamn smart, he knew what he was doing. Well, for the most part. You do think what you had done was necessary in the end still, since Doom was already getting back up on his feet as Stephen tried to see how to help Wong.

But everything you'd said definitely felt as if you were belittling Stephen.

You let out a wet laugh, the tears you were holding finally making it past your waterline dreadfully fast. You were just as quick to sniffle and wipe the tears with the heel of your hand, reminding yourself to breathe.

"Could you say something, maybe? I... I feel like I've been talking to a brick wall for the past few minutes, honey."

The nickname is what pulled Stephen out of his... whatever it was. His eyes looked how they usually did when he started crying—glassy, red-rimmed and swollen with tears that had been rolling down his cheeks freely.

You've seen Stephen like this few times in your relationship. And in this moment? You thought it was because of you. Your words you used in the heat of the fight, cutting the man you loved—which you have never openly admitted—deep enough to make tears pull from his tear ducts and roll down his beaten and bruised face.

As if he wasn't hurt enough after this fight.

"S-Stephen I—"

"I love you."

You stopped dead in your tracks. You were about to apologize for most of the things you said, maybe even cry yourself. But.. he just said those three little words that you'd both been toeing around since last month.

It felt like your heart stopped. Then exploded. And then stopped again before slamming hard against your chest. "You.. You what?"

"I," Stephen started again shakily, his hands moving to cup your cheeks in his shaking hands, "love you."

Your heartbeat continued pounding in your ears. 

"W-Wait," you cleared your throat and let your hand that was on his forearm fall, carefully tilting your head up to finally make eye contact. "This isn't a joke, right? You're not... You're not just saying this because you and I just had some kind of-of.. of a fight?"

Stephen sniffled quietly then, shaking thumbs swiping at the tears that were still descending down your face gently - almost as if he were handling glass. "I'm serious."

"You love me?" You asked softly. Quietly, filled with all of the emotion you'd held back just mere minutes ago to stand your ground. Stephen was never one to mix work and play—and you thought this was no exception.

"Yes." Stephen's watery laugh filled your ears then. "I love you. That's—That's why I was angry. You.. You risked your life for me and Wong today. It made me realize how easy it could be to lose you. And I don't want that to happen; I never want to lose you."

If this were a normal conversation—between a man and a woman who have been together for a year and a few months—you wouldn't be giggling like an idiot with your vision being clouded with tears. Okay, maybe you would. It just seemed inappropriate to giggle in this moment. You were giggling. Stephen Strange just admitted he loves you. After you've just yelled at him after a battle that rendered one of your friends back in the hands of the healers back at Kamar-Taj.

And he said he loves you.

"You are such an—"

"I know, I know," Stephen said quickly, cutting you off with a dull chuckle as he leaned forwards to press his forehead gently to your own, not caring about the cut on his skin. "I'm an idiot. Your idiot, however."

You let your shoulders droop, finally relieving them from the tension you were still carrying. One of your hands easily cupped Stephen's while the other slowly wrapped around his wrist, trying to get your emotions together to properly respond to your boyfriend's confession.

"You are." You knew your face contorted into a fond look as you squeezed his wrist gently. He huffed out a laugh as the blanket of silence enveloped you comfortably unlike earlier.

"Aren't you gonna say you love me back?" Stephen teased quietly, his eyes flicking down to look at your lips. You snorted and let your eyes fall shut as you leaned some of your weight against him.

"Well—"

"Oh god, here we go," Stephen quipped.

"Hey! I'm trying to pull a I know on you here," you complained playfully, snapping your eyes open to glare at Stephen.

"Sweetheart, as much as I love you, I don't think you'd pull a Leia on me."

You jutted your bottom lip out into a pout, your brows slowly scrunching up as you did so which caused your forehead to bump into Stephen's. He was quick to hiss, pulling his head back from your own to bring a hand up to hover over where his cut was. Your hands were quick to fall from their spots. 

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" You exclaimed, laughter trying to cut through your words. "I-I didn't think I would hit it!"

Stephen couldn't help but start laughing with you, trying to hold you back slightly before you went all "doctor mode" on him as you usually would after missions like these. "You're fine! It's fine."

Eventually, your laughter died down into gentle wheezing before you forced your way into Stephen's arms, now cupping his face in your hands to mainly inspect the damage on his face. He had the cut on his forehead that was surrounded with bumps and bruises, as well as a few little scrapes. You sighed gently.

"What am I going to do with you, Stephen?"

Stephen didn't hesitate to let his hands wrap around your waist slowly, as if to test the waters, letting out a hum. "I can think of a few things."

You rolled your eyes then, letting your hands clasp together behind his head to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer once more. You wanted a kiss more than anything at this point, even if you had a bit of a cut lip. A kiss from the man that loved you.

"Stop it. If you think anything R-rated is happening between us tonight, you're dead wrong," you admonished. "We've both got injuries, Stephen."

"C'mon," Stephen urged gently, his hands sliding to flatten at your sides, squeezing your curves under his fingertips, "you've never turned down the shower stuff before."

"Well then today's the day I'm turning it down. Because I'd rather hurt now rather than later."

The face Stephen pulled would have made you laugh if you weren't looking at him so fondly, your mind reeling back to what he said what felt like seconds ago. Those three little words he said were replaying in your head again. Your heart skipped a beat by how giddy you were becoming just by the mere thought of Stephen saying those words to you. It hadn't occurred to you that you were zoned out completely then, Stephen gently saying your name as he shook you a little.

You were quick to blink a bit, letting a smile bloom on your face before you let go of your hands to slide them to his shoulders. 

"Say it again," you demanded softly, letting your nails dig into the fabric under your fingertips. "Please."

Stephen definitely didn't get what you meant until your eyes moved from looking up into his own, to looking at his lips. You were thankful he decided to grant your wish when he gently said your name, easily pressing the length of his body against yours.

"I love you."

"I love you too," you replied immediately, your whole heart basically evacuating your body through your words. You loved him. Stephen Strange. The Master of The Mystic Arts. Who ever this man was before, and whoever this man was now, you loved him. That much was evident to the both of you in this moment.

Stephen took a moment to mutter something under his breath before he leaned forward and captured your lips in a searing kiss. As intense as the kiss was, his lips were soft against your own, despite the fact that yours were most definitely weathered from the battle. One of his hands found their spot back on your cheek as Stephen tilted his head to deepen the kiss in the moment before started to pull away to giggle again.

"What?" Stephen questioned quietly. You just shrugged as you kept your eyes shut, feeling Stephen's gaze trail over your face.

"My lips probably feel terrible to you—"

Stephen groaned playfully then, holding back a chuckle. "You need to stop with these one liners when we're having a moment, sweetheart."

"You love me for it!" You exclaimed, opening your eyes now to finally catch the fond look Stephen was giving you.

"I do."

"Does this mean we can get patched up now? As attractive as you look all beaten and... rugged, you should really get cleaned up before something gets infected," you explained, pulling back until Stephen's arms stopped you, gesturing to his whole get up. "I don't need you getting sick again on me."

"Fine. As long as you're the one patching me up, I don't care," Stephen sighed dramatically, letting you go but making sure to grab your hand with his own gently. You grinned at the fact that you didn't have to try and push the offer to him any more than you already did.

You were quick to get up to his height momentarily, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before starting to lead him to the open door that led you two home. In the back of your mind, you knew you would have to have a more adult conversation about earlier once the two of you have rested and cleaned up a bit later in the evening. This wasn't just something you could ignore easily after a heartfelt confession. But you weren't as afraid as you were when the argument started.

Because he loved you. That's all you needed to remember as you headed into this new stage of your relationship with Stephen Strange.

[hopelikethemoon]

👀👀👀22👀👀👀👀 (baby you already know what the fuck this is about)

If anyone is curious this drabble belongs to a very specific universe that Tiernan and I have been building over the past couple of months. You can check out the Pinterest here. This is for the bodyguard trope from this list. 

November 20, 1990 — Austin, TX

“Right this way, Ms. Douglas,” The aide said, ushering Teagan down the long marble corridor, adorned with grand portraits of past senators and busts of other noted heads of state. 

Her heels clicked against the floor as she followed the aide into an office, just beyond the staircase. 

It had been a whirlwind of a week since election night. She was still weeks out from entering into office — and yet, she was already in the state capitol worrying about the future of her career in the House of Representatives. 

She had won by a narrow margin, unseating the Republican incumbent who had occupied the seat long enough to become a father, grandfather, and great grandfather. But the man had been a stalwart figurehead in the state, and the sort of leader that had attracted a very specific field of supporters.

Ones who weren’t amenable to the idea of being represented by a thirty-year-old strongly progressive woman, whose family had arrived in America during the Great Depression. These were, after all, the same Texans who had voted to send George H. W. Bush to the White House. 

But they had also elected Ann Richards into the governor’s seat — and she was already making moves ahead of taking office in January. 

“Governor-Elect Richards, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Teagan offered as she greeted the older woman. 

“Please, you can call me Ann.” She smiled at her as they shook hands. “And this is Javier Peña, former DEA.” Ann said as she gestured to the man sitting rather stiffly on the sofa.

“Ms. Douglas,” Javier said as he rose and crossed the room to shake her hand. “That was a hell of a campaign you ran.”

Teagan laughed, “I owe it all to my team and my constituents. What district are you in?”

“Twenty-eighth.” He answered with a faint smirk, “Don’t worry, I voted for you.” He gestured to Ann then, “Someone already thoroughly vetted me.” 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you into a meeting with a former DEA agent.”

“Only a little.” Teagan remarked as the three of them moved to sit down. “I was led to believe that this meeting had to do with what happened over the weekend.”

“It does.” Ann said with a frown. “Javier here recently left the DEA after an extensive and impressive career in Colombia.”

Teagan made a note of how he shifted at her words, nervously adjusting the cuffs of his white shirt beneath his tan suit. 

“Pablo Escobar.” Teagan said as the realization dawned on her. “I’ve tried to keep up with everything, but with the election—“

“I wouldn’t get too wrapped up in it.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “No offense, but I don’t see congress doing shit to settle it.” He looked towards Ann then, “Apologies.”

Ann clasped her hands together, “Your team approached mine about helping to find you someone to cover security. It seems your current contract leaves something to be desired.”

Teagan nodded, “I would say that.” 

“Javier worked for me during my own campaign.” Ann explained, “I offered him a permanent post here at the capitol come January, but I don’t think he’s looking to be tied down here in Texas.” The older woman turned to give him an expectant look.

Javier leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I can’t promise that I’ll remain on your team through your term, but I’ll make sure the team you're left with can offer the protection you deserve.” 

“So you’re looking to come to D.C. with me?”

He shrugged a shoulder, “These fuckers — sorry — they’re not going to stop once you move to D.C., Ms. Douglas. They want their pound of flesh and they won’t stop until they have it. You can take your current security detail with you, but I’m the best you’re going to find.” 

“Someone’s sure of their abilities.” Teagan said lightly, arching a brow across at him. “If you’re coming with the recommendation of Ann Richards — I think the only thing I can do is accept.” 

Ann smiled broadly, “Then it’s decided.” 

Javier glanced between Ann and Teagan, “I’ll get my things in order then. When do you move?”

“First week of December and then I’m back here for Christmas.” Teagan explained, brushing out the wrinkles in her skirt. “My outgoing head of security will touch base with you, I guess?”

He scratched at the back of his ear, “You and I need to go through logistics. I’ll need access to your itinerary, list of addresses, contacts for your inner circle.”

“He’ll be a hover.” Ann said with a chuckle, looking quite pleased with herself. 

“Considering your current team seems to be failing at their one job, trust me when I say I’ll be hands-on.” Javier assured Teagan, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek. 

Against better judgement, Teagan couldn’t help but imagine a different implication of hands-on. Sure, he was about to be working beneath her, but she wasn’t blind. 

Despite how uncomfortable he looked in a suit, he pulled the look off with impeccable ease. The mustache seemed dated, but it somehow suited him better than what she imagined as the alternative. He had kind eyes — tired, but kind eyes. 

But she quickly pushed those thoughts far from the forefront of her mind. She had serious issues at hand and none of them had to do with her soon-to-be head of security’s appearance. She needed him to be good at his job. 

“I don’t want to take up any more of Ann’s time,” Teagan nodded her head towards the Governor-Elect. “Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee and discuss plans.”

“You want to grab coffee two days following an attempt on your life?”

Teagan frowned at him, “I ran on a platform of accessibility. I’m not going to hide in my parents’ house until I move to D.C., Javier.” 

Javier laughed incredulously, “That accessibility is why you need a protective detail, Ms. Douglas. We’re not discussing security plans in the open and you’re not going to parade around in the open.” He paused, before added. “Just yet.” As if to assuage her annoyance. 

“Great.” Teagan sighed heavily. “Is my mother’s kitchen table too out in the open? I think she’s got a coffee pot.”

“That would be perfect,” He drawled out, entirely avoiding her scathing tone. “These will just be preliminary plans. They’ll evolve as we move forward.” 

Teagan ignored him as she stood, “Thank you Ann. I appreciate your willingness to lose such a valuable asset.” She leveled him with a look then, “I drove myself here. Is that allowed?”

“Yep.” He retorted, letting the word pop past his lip. “I’ll follow. Lead the way.”

[britishassistant]

But I Like One Piece (20)

They all turn to stare at him.

“Dear? How do you know that?” Okaa-san says.

Otou-san shakes his head and sits down heavily on the stairs. “The manufacturer for those weapons is in Yukigakure. Just like the incriminating ryo left at the scene of that theft.”

Oh.

Oh sweet Merry.

She mutters, “Shika said—when we were talking about the theft, he said it had to be an inside job, because an outsider couldn’t know anything. But if they were like me—if they’d read the comic based on Konoha in their past life, they would know. They’d know almost everything even if they never set foot here.”

She swallows, throat suddenly dry. “If it was plot-relevant, then they’d know more about what was valuable and how it was defended than people who’d lived here their whole lives. They’d even know the weaknesses of the ninja sent after them, if those ninja were major characters.”

Otou-san nods. “And if he or she needed to finance the manufacture of those weapons, what could be easier than to steal something from here and sell it to another hidden village?”

She sits down heavily on the stairs.

Her heart’s pounding too fast. The side of her head is throbbing in time with the beat.

“Well.” Okaa-san coughs. “That’s mildly terrifying.”

She lets out a humorless chuckle at the understatement.

Horror wars with elation in her brain. Elation at the knowledge that she isn’t alone here.

Horror at the idea of someone knowing everything about this place and deciding to use that knowledge for their own gain. If robbing Konoha wasn’t low for them, would they stoop to manipulating Naruto, Sakura, Uchiha? To hurting them to get their way, change a narrative they don’t like?

“But Iruka-sensei said Yukigakure gave us those guns for less money than they gave them to other villages.” Naruto says suddenly. “Maybe that’s the not-Mayu’s way of making it up to us?”

“You think villains who would commit such an unyouthful action would be capable of feeling guilt?” Lee says doubtfully. “Shouldn’t we tell Gai-sensei about this?”

“We can.” Otou-san sighs. “But I’m not sure how helpful it would be. Nara-san said Yamanaka-san knew about the Yuki connection between both the theft and these “guns”. For all we know, the price reduction could be a concession negotiated between the Hokage and the thief, and we just have a morsel of knowledge about that deal which would endanger Mayu more than it would help the village.”

She fidgets, tracing the scar on her lower lip.

Lee’s brows are furrowed, his mouth pulled down in a frown.

Okaa-san reaches out and smooths a hand over his hair. “Why don’t we get Ichiraku’s and sleep on it? I think Sanji would agree we’ll all make better decisions with some ramen in our bellies.”

Naruto springs to his feet. “Yeah! Ramen’ll fix everything, believe it! C’mon, I’m hungry, let’s go, let’s go!”

It doesn’t quite fix everything, she reflects later as she descales and fillets the pike for the offerings tomorrow. There’s still another reincarnated person who robbed the village, had her father take the fall for their crime, and is now mass-producing the very weapon that killed her past self, which they can do next to nothing about.

But ramen smoothed out the crease in Lee’s brow when they all agreed it was better to tell Gai-sensei than not. It lightened the mood and made everything this day had thrown at them seem a little less important in light of the celebrations planned for tomorrow.

Their small garden is now even smaller thanks to the a large wooden structure that sits next to the back fence.

It’s a bit like a cross between a shed and a greenhouse, if it only had three walls and no doors or windows. The roof is curved and the walls are sturdy, to protect the shrines inside from the elements.

There’s a length of thick white rope fastened with red twine inside the front gable, which is meant to ensure that the shrines are protected from malicious spirits.

Each one of the shrines has a small building that is sealed automatically once the shrine has been assembled, keeping a small object for the deity to inhabit safely locked away from prying eyes. There’s a small recess before this structure, for offerings to be placed, and a little column that puts them above the eye level of a kneeling person.

They’d debated setting aside a space for the shrines in the living room inside the house, to ensure they could be protected and cared for. But she kept getting impulses of outside, of wind and rain, freedom, that eventually they decided it was better than keeping them cooped up inside.

Plus this way, Luffy can’t raid the fridge as easily.

She’s already found certain small cuts of cooked meat have gone missing. If he’s anything like the manga, then she’s not giving him the chance to clean out the entire fridge.

They’ve been working on constructing it and the shrines on weekends and in the mornings during training. According to Gai-sensei, it’s excellent practice for C-rank missions.

Now all that’s left is to paint the structure and the ten shrines housed within.

Working out what to set out as offerings for tomorrow had been a challenge and a half.

For the most part, the Strawhats can be grouped into small sections of what they will and won’t eat.

Nami and Chopper are fruit lovers. Sanji, Zoro, Brook and Usopp are partial to seafood. Luffy, Franky, and Robin are happy with beef and other land-based meats.

However, Zoro, Sanji and Brook like varieties of seafood that are difficult to get in Konoha— octopus, lobster and prawns are expensive and hard to find, while sea king meat just doesn’t exist here. At least Zoro is happy enough with a traditional plate-2-bowls meal with rice.

Robin prefers sandwiches, and she’s not quite sure if the burgers Franky loves fit into that criteria. Chopper can’t stand spicy or bitter foods, but Zoro and Robin dislike sweets.

She’s just thankful that Luffy, Nami Usopp, and Merry are so easy to feed. Pike’s one of the few fish that Konoha doesn’t need to import, so it and tangerines relatively inexpensive.

There’s no chance of combining all their preferences into one dish. Her head hurts just imagining the clash of flavors.

So she had to somehow come up with a way of creating a meal that would (hopefully) make each of the pirates she idolizes happy.

No pressure.

Chouji ended up being her savior in this respect.

And maybe Uchiha did as well, but only a teeny tiny bit.

She’d been brainstorming different versions of meals she could try making that would satisfy everyone, but kept coming up short.

The added tension from Sakura’s friendly-again-but-still-not-quite-sitting-back-at-their-table thing at this time wasn’t exactly helping her think either.

“I’ve got cola, coffee, tea, heck even sake, but still no idea on what to pair any of them with.” She complained, tapping her pencil against the list in front of her.

Chouji had leaned over, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why not make them lunchboxes? That way you can make lots of things in smaller amounts and personalize each lunchbox for each of them.”

“Hm. That is a good idea.” She gnawed on her lower lip. “Only downside is working out when I can cook what and how much time the preparation of each portion is going so everything in the bentos is relatively fresh for when it’s offered... how much d’you think eleven more lunchboxes would cost?”

She’d just begun sketching out lines for a tentative timetable when Uchiha complained, “Why do you think you’ve gotta do everything on your own?”

She looked up, a little offended. “I’m not praying for help with this, are you mad? That’d be like asking someone to bake their own birthday cake.”

“What Sasuke means,” Chouji intervened. “Is that we could always split the work three-ways between us, and bring it to your house on the day?”

She blinked. “You...you guys would help me like that?”

Chouji smiled, then made a squeak of surprise when she lunged over the table to hug him tightly. “Thank you.”

“I have lunchboxes to spare.” Uchiha drawled. “Plus someone’s got to make sure you don’t mess up.”

She had then let Chouji go so she could boot Uchiha in the shin.

As a result of this arrangement, when she wakes up on The Day, all she has to worry about is preparing the pasta for Sanji, Nami and Usopp’s lunchboxes after training with Gai-sensei.

She’s almost worried that her timining be a little delayed because Gai-sensei grabs her in a bone-creaking hug when she arrives at training and spends about three minutes weeping over how youthful she is.

He then makes them run fifty times around the village balancing the paint pots they’ll be using later to ensure that the paint is agitated enough “so its most YOUTHFUL colors will shine through!!”

They nearly lose the purple when Naruto fumbles slightly over a root.

She bolts down her food at breakfast.

She puts on more rice again in preparation for the sesame onigiri, and pulls out a pot to fill with water that’s set to boil and a pan to gently heat some oil on the stove.

She smashes a clove of garlic and drops it in when the oil has begun to smoke gently, deseeding and dicing up some chilis and tossing them in as well for flavor.

She can’t help her grin when the heady spicy-savory scent fills the air, finely chopping capers and anchovies to toss in once she’s fished out the smashed garlic.

The scent mellows somewhat when the diced pike hits the pan as well, and she pushes it around until the fish is almost-but-not-quite cooked through.

Then in with a generous glug of wine and the heat is turned down to a gentle simmer to let the alcohol cook off.

Just in time for the rice to have cooked and cooled enough to begin mixing with yellow and black sesame seeds and begin forming into ten onigiri.

They don’t have any fillings other than the sesame, because they’re designed to take the edge off the stronger flavors of the pasta (her) and the takoyaki (Chouji), as well as serve as a substitute for a sesame topped bun accompanying the hamburger steaks (Uchiha).

The others begin to arrive at around ten.

Sakura and the Harunos arrive first alongside Ino and her dad.

She shouts a hello as Naruto and Lee lead Ino and Sakura through the kitchen to the back garden, nails orange with peeled tangerine.

Ino darts forward and steals two slices, chortling in response to her indignant “Oi!” and passing one to Sakura, who grins as she nibbles on their way out.

Yamanaka-san is totally at home chatting with Gai-sensei and Otou-san, but he snickers when Nara-san immediately gravitates towards him when he arrives. Shikamaru gives her a nod as he follows the adults outside and she puts the pasta on to boil.

She’s set aside two extra tangerines for when Shino and his father arrive. After all, she, Chouji and Uchiha are making enough to feed eleven deities and many many people, so shouldn’t their insects also be able to eat as well?

Shino’s dad stares at her inscrutably when she explains her reasoning, before accepting the fruit with a nod and a “thank you” barely audible over a loud buzzing.

Shino shifts from one foot to the other during this exchange before gently tugging his father’s sleeve. It occurs to her as she drains the pot-full pasta and adds the sauce alongside a cup of boiling water to emulsify everything that this might be the closest she’s ever seen him to being embarrassed.

Chouji and his dad arrive as she’s sprinkling in some parsley as a finishing touch.

They’re both carrying huge containers full of takoyaki and cooked spring greens, and she spares a small moment to be envious of all the amazing things Chouji’s family can afford to do.

Then she launches Chouji another hug to thank him for all his help once he’s set his cargo down.

He squeaks like he did last time and Akimichi-san laughs loudly, for some reason.

Iruka-sensei and Uchiha arrive with eleven lunchboxes, two dogs, Kiba and his mum, and Hinata in tow.

Uchiha keeps sneaking what appear to be morsels of meat to Akamaru and Kuromaru.

There’s also a pale-eyed frowning boy who Iruka-sensei introduces as Hyuuga Neji, Hinata’s cousin who’d been sent along to act as her chaperone.

The boy sniffs disdainfully when they greet him and goes to stand in a corner of the garden near Mebuki, completely ignoring Lee when he waves to him.

She doesn’t think she likes Hinata’s cousin very much.

The lunchboxes Uchiha brought are black lacquer decorated with gold and red tomoe, much fancier than anything she’d been expecting.

When questioned, he just shrugs and says, “It’s just old stuff from New Year’s. It’s just taking up space at home, so it’s better off here.”

She knows better than to say anything like “sorry”, so she just pats his shoulder and says “No, that compartment’s too small for the onigiri, put it in this one.”

“That’s way too big, it looks tiny in that one.” Uchiha snaps, but with a bit less bite than usual.

Iruka-sensei looks mildly overwhelmed by all the people in the back garden. Okaa-san comes along, hands him a drink, pats his shoulder and says “They’re in my house,” in a sympathetic tone.

Iruka-sensei gives her a pitying look and knocks the sake back in one go.

Adults here can be weird.

Finally they’ve finished serving and she calls out “Food’s up!”

The adults come in to help take the larger platters of food outside, a huge plate of pasta, several smaller hamburger steaks in the style of what they’d call “sliders” in her world, and mound upon mound of takoyaki and spring greens and tangerines.

There’s a clamor outside as people begin getting their portions.

She, Chouji and Uchiha are each balancing either three or four lunchboxes per person as they take them outside.

Sakura is helping Kiba paint a pattern of cherry blossoms across Chopper’s already vibrantly pink shrine. Evidence of her handiwork on Robin’s shrine is clear is the decoration of swirling petals and the streaks of matching purple paint all over her forehead.

Ino and Naruto obviously have had a battle over the orange judging by the splashes on their hands and clothing. On the plus side Nami and Luffy’s shrines are looking particularly colorful.

Shikamaru and Hinata are splotched with green, light blue and black-and-white. Lee is smudged with brown, cyan and white paint and beaming proudly.

Shino has yellow paint on the end of his nose and is looking at the detailed illustrations of insects on the sides with pride.

The only shrines that aren’t quite done are Sanji’s, which has a blue overcoat but no decoration, and Zoro’s which doesn’t have half its roof painted yet.

“We were waiting,” Naruto says, holding out two buckets of green paint and blue respectively, “For you guys to add your bits.”

She beams at him.

Of course, Uchiha has to ruin it by immediately grabbing the green.

“What?” He says, offloading his three lunchboxes onto Kiba. “I’ll give it back once I’m finished with it.”

Ino rolls her eyes and shoulders her paintbrush, adding another orange splotch to her outfit. “Ugh. I’ll help Mayu-chan, it’s better to get it done quickly. Let’s go before the food gets cold.”

Orange, red, and yellow fish on the blue background are much more vibrant and eye-catching than green, though Uchiha does “help” by flicking the paintbrush at her while she’s distracted.

In thanks, she smears yellow on the back of his neck.

After the extra decorations are finished, Lee, Sakura and Kiba redistribute the lunchboxes to make their offerings.

The only problem is there’s eleven of them and ten lunchboxes.

“You all go ahead.” She steps back. “I’ll do the next bit.”

Each one of them place the pirate lunchboxes down in front of the shrines and step back.

For some reason, she feels like traditional prayers and chants appropriated from the sage guy won’t really be all that welcoming to them.

But then, what? What could help them feel at home at these shrines, so far from the sea?

Her gaze falls on Brook’s shrine.

Oh.

Oh, well it’s obvious when it’s put like that, isn’t it?

She just hopes she remembers the words correctly. She doesn’t want to butcher them on accident.

“Yohohoho, yohohoho~ Yohohoho, yohohoho~”

Her voice sounds frail and quiet, and she can feel everyone’s eyes on her. Still, she stumbles through the last two refrains of yohohoho’s to the first verse.

“Binksu no sake wo, todokei ni yuku yo, umikaze, kimakase, namimakase~ Shio no mukou de, yuhi wo sawagu, sora nya, wao kaku tori no uta~”

Naruto joins in on the next verse, singing along slightly out of tune and mixing up some of the words.

His cheeks look as flushed as hers feel, and it’s hard not to giggle when they catch each other’s eyes. Somehow they both manage to keep singing.

Gai-sensei and Lee boisterously shout DON alongside them as they join as well, Gai-sensei’s voice strong and sure, while Lee’s volume makes up for any deficiencies in wording. She almost can’t hear Okaa-san’s melodious voice and Otou-san’s decidedly tone-deaf one join in on the second set of Yohohoho’s over their noise.

Sakura and Ino’s voices are both high-pitched, but they carry the tune well enough. So does Kiba, though he’s pitching up to a falsetto for some reason. Hinata’s voice is soft, but she’s genuinely singing, unlike Shikamaru and Sasuke who’re mumbling through all the bits apart from the yohohoho’s. Shino is monotone if precise and enthusiastic, while Chouji has a surprising set of pipes on him.

Akamaru is just howling to the beat. And with that accompaniment, how could anyone stop themselves from singing along?

It feels like more people than could possibly fit into their house and garden are bellowing Bink’s Sake together by the time they’ve reached the third set of Yohohoho’s.

It can’t exactly be called “harmonious”. Everyone’s a little out of tune, a little off beat.

But the mixing of all the voices of her family and friends feels so right, it makes her voice stronger, lets her sing louder.

She opens her eyes and nearly chokes on the next note.

Hovering in front of the brightly painted shrines, slightly faded but gaining color and substance with every passing moment, They stand.

Merry appears in all her glory, as if in mid- sail. Brook is playing his violin, a foot tapping to the beat. Franky is winding up for his SUPA pose, grinning broadly. Robin is resting a hand on Chopper’s hat. Chopper himself is peeking at them the wrong way round from Robin’s leg.

Sanji’s tapping out his cigarette with a grin and giving a small salute. Usopp is waving to them, like a captain would to his 8,000 followers. Nami’s blowing a kiss as if to adoring fans.

Zoro...is climbing over the garden fence and jogging to take his place in front his shrine next to the others. Nami shoots him a Look while Luffy laughs at him, sitting in mid air and clapping his feet together.

The Captain of the Straw Hat Pirates then turns to her and gives her a wide grin.

She blinks away tears as he and his crew fade away with the last notes of the song.

The food in the lunchboxes is gone.

The food on Naruto’s plate is also gone.

In fact, all the food in the immediate vicinity appears to be gone.

It’s just that Naruto looks down at his plate and yells in indignation first.

She lets out a wet laugh. “Darn it Luffy.”

[papermoonloveslucy]

MY FAVORITE HUSBAND ~ Season 1, Part 2 (Cooper)

January 7, 1949 - July 1, 1949

“My Favorite Husband” ~ Season one aired on CBS Radio from July 5, 1948 to July 1, 1949.  There were 51 half hour episodes.  Starting in January 1949, the characters would have their last name changed to Cugat, the character of Cory Cartwright would was phased out, Gale Gordon and Bea Benadaret became regulars as the Atterburys, and the main sponsor became Jell-O.

Regular Cast: Lucille Ball as Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Cooper, Richard Denning as George Cooper, Ruth Perrott as Katie the Maid, Gale Gordon as Rudoph Atterbury, Bea Benadaret as Iris Atterbury, and Bob LeMond, Announcer.  

Season 1 (Part Two) Guest Cast: Frank Nelson (11 episodes), Hans Conried (9 episodes), Florence Halop (3 episodes), Jerry Hausner (2 episodes), Gerald Mohr (2 episodes), Alan Reed (2 episodes), Doris Singleton (2 episodes), Joe Kearns, Jack Edwards, Jean Vander Pyl, William Johnston, Verna Felton, GeGe Pearson, Pinto Colvig, Steve Allen, Elvia Allman, Gloria Blondell, John Heistand, John Heistand, Parley Baer, Peter Leeds, Shirley Mitchell, Wally Maher, Shirley Mitchell, Johnny McGovern, Ted DeCorsia, Milton Stark, and Mary Lansing.

To Experience the Full Episode Blogs - for both “My Favorite Husband” and “I Love Lucy” - simply click on the hyperlinked (underlined) text.

* = Episodes not available for preview or considered lost.

“Over Budget - Beans” (aka “Beans for Three Weeks”) ~ January 7, 1949 

Synopsis ~ Liz goes over her budget again by buying six cases of beans that were on special so George cuts off her allowance. Soon they’re eating nothing but beans, and the electricity and telephone have been disconnected!

”Piano & Violin Lessons”  (aka “Professor Krausmeyer’s Talent Scouts”) ~ January 14, 1949

Synopsis ~ Liz takes up the piano to win a radio talent contest. To get even, George starts playing the violin. Who will win?

“The Marriage License Error” (aka “Marriage License”) ~ January 21, 1949

Synopsis ~ Liz and George find their marriage license and discover that instead of “George H. Cooper,” it says “George C. Hooper.” Now Liz is convinced that she and George aren’t legally married!

Portions served as the basis for The “I Love Lucy” episode “The Marriage License” 

“The Absolute Truth” ~ January 28, 1949

Synopsis ~ Liz and George bet each other that they can each go for 24 hours without telling a lie. Even a little white one.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “Lucy Tells the Truth” 

“Speech for Civic Organization” (aka “Liz Debates Alaska in Town Forum”) ~ February 4, 1949 

Synopsis ~ Liz, anxious to win the approval of an important dinner guest, simply agrees with everything he says. The guest is so impressed with her intelligence that he invites her to be a speaker at his next civic forum.

“Valentine’s Day” (aka “Valentine’s Day Mischief”) ~ February 11, 1949 

Synopsis ~ Katie, the Maid, is sweet on Mr. Dabney, the butcher, and Liz offers to help. But when Liz’s Valentine to George gets switched with her check to pay the butcher’s bill, Mr. Dabney gets the wrong idea.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “Lucy Plays Cupid” 

“Secretarial School” (aka “Liz Attends Claremont Business School”) ~ February 18, 1949

Synopsis ~ George needs a new secretary, so Liz enrolls in secretarial school so she can fill the position.

“Absentmindedness” (aka “Liz’s Absent-mindedness”) ~ February 25, 1949 

Synopsis ~ Liz goes to see a doctor about her absentmindedness, and then reports her car to be stolen when she forgets that George dropped her off at the doctor! Liz takes a memory course. It works in reverse and she ends up with amnesia and George finds himself in jail.

*“Mother-In-Law” ~ March 5, 1949

Synopsis ~ George's mother comes to visit. Liz hopes to drive her out by spreading ragweed and other allergy-inducing plants around the house, but her plan backfires when George's mother starts dating her allergist.

Gale Gordon and Bea Benaderet, do not play the Atterburys in this program. Bea Benaderet plays George's mother, and Gale Gordon plays George's mother's boyfriend.

“Charity Revue” (aka “Red Cross Benefit Revue”) ~ March 11, 1949

Synopsis ~ Mr. Atterbury asks George to work up a song and dance routine for the local Red Cross Charity Review. At the same time Liz’s women’s club recruits her to perform.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Benefit” 

*”Giveaway Program” (aka “The Johnny Odell Program”) ~ March 18, 1949

Synopsis ~ Liz never misses her favorite giveaway radio program, "Ring the Bell With Johnny O'Dell." She's convinced that she's going to get called on the phone and win the grand prize.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode "Redecorating"

*”Old Jokes and Old Stories” ~ March 25, 1949

Synopsis ~ Liz keeps stepping on George's punch lines during an evening with the Atterburys. George finally puts his foot down, and Liz promises from then on to obey his every command. Things are going fine until George somehow gets the mistaken idea that Liz is so upset with this news that she is planning to run off with the Atterburys' chauffer.

“April Fool’s Day” ~ April 1, 1949 

Synopsis ~ As an April Fool’s joke, Liz plans to plant a lipstick-smeared handkerchief in George’s coat pocket.

“Gum Machine” (aka “The Principal of the Thing” aka “Demand Your Rights”) ~  April 9, 1949 

Synopsis ~ George tells Liz that she needs to stand up for her rights and stop letting people push her around. So when Liz loses a penny in a broken gum machine, she vows to get her penny back no matter what the cost.

“Horseback Riding” (aka “Liz Takes Horseback Riding Lessons”) ~ April 15, 1949

Synopsis ~ George’s female co-chair for his horseback riding club’s upcoming weekend breakfast ride has Liz so jealous that she’s determined to overcome her fear of horses and learn to ride herself.

“Time Budgeting” (aka “George and His Trained Seals”) ~ April 22, 1949 

Synopsis ~ George is so fed up with Liz’s being late for everything that he puts her on a strict schedule.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “Lucy’s Schedule”

“Vacation Time” (aka “Trailer Vacation to Goosegrease Lake”) ~ April 29, 1949 

Synopsis ~ It’s vacation time, and Liz and George have decidedly different plans. He wants to go camping with a trailer he borrowed from a friend, while she’s set on a glamorous vacation at Moosehead Lodge.

Partly inspired the premise of the “My Favorite Husband” episode “Liz Learns To Swim” 

“Overweight” (aka “The Five-Dollar-A-Pound Diet”) ~ May 6, 1949 

Synopsis ~ After viewing some old home movies, Liz and Iris decide to go on a diet.

Some elements later used to create the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Diet”

“Anniversary Presents” (aka “Tenth Anniversary Presents”) ~ May 13, 1949 

Synopsis ~ George and Mr. Atterbury buy presents for their wives, and Iris’s present, a mink coat, is delivered to Liz’s house by mistake.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Fur Coat”

“Getting Old” (aka “Liz Is Feeling Her Age”) ~ May 20, 1949

Synopsis ~ Scanning her old high school yearbook, Liz decides she’s old, and everything George does to try to snap her out of it just makes things worse. George tries to convince Liz that she’s as glamourous as ever. His tactics misfire so George is forced to hire a psychiatrist.

Partly inspired the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Inferiority Complex”

“Liz in the Hospital” (aka “Liz Goes To The Hospital”) ~ May 27, 1949 

Synopsis ~ The doctor pays a house call to see what’s wrong with George, and discovers that Liz needs to have her tonsils removed!

“Hair Dyed” (aka “Liz Gets Her Hair Dyed”) ~ June 10, 1949 

Synopsis ~  After George warning Liz about the dangers of idle gossip, Liz’s chatty and absent-minded hair stylist forgets what she’s doing and mistakenly dyes Liz’s hair black. Nobody recognizes Liz, so she decides to flirt with George to test his fidelity. Gossip about Liz and George spreads all over town.

The first part was the basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Gossip” and the second half inspired “The Black Wig”

“Television” (aka “George Ruins a Neighbor’s TV” aka “The Television Suit”) ~ June 17, 1949 

Synopsis ~ Liz and George’s visit to their next-door neighbors, the Stones, turns into a disaster when George tries to repair the Stones’ new television set by himself.

Basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Courtroom” 

“Liz Changes Her Mind” ~ June 24, 1949 & September 30, 1950 (rerun)

Synopsis ~ When Liz has trouble making up her mind, George decides she must finish everything she starts.

Basis for “I Love Lucy” "Lucy Changes Her Mind”

“Reminiscing” ~ July 1, 1949

Synopsis ~  Liz is working on her scrapbook, and she and George reminisce about when Liz learned to drive and got her license, when Liz signed an affidavit swearing never to interrupt George’s stories again, and when the butcher thought that Liz had a crush on him.

[scaredofchange]

Carpe Diem - Jinyoung x Reader

Pairing: Park Jinyoung (GOT7) x Female!Reader                                            

Summary: Moving to Korea for a job is something, but meeting Park Jinyoung in a totally impossible/ridiculous way? Now we’re talking. Y/N is definitely in for a wild ride.

Warnings: being stuck in an elevator; acrophobia; mild panic attack; swearing; but also fluff and cuteness.

 Wordcount: 4.4k

 A/N: Just an idea at the top of my head like that; also, it’s a first-person perspective. I’m not that into using the second person (“you”). Hope you enjoy it!

 __________________

           I was rushing from desk to desk; juggling between official documents and frivolous memos like my life was depending on it. Having recently joined the Human Resources department of the successful JYP entertainment corporation, I had nothing to lose and everything to prove to my superiors.

Granted, working for HR was not as glamorous as being one of the top hats, but it was gratifying enough for me to move my ass from North America to Korea in an instant. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t running from my old life, I was just trying to find my true vocation.

 HR was definitely not it, but dreams don’t come true without money.

Luckily enough, JYP had half the department working in English, which grandly facilitated my tasks: my Korean wasn’t... let’s say it wasn’t bad but neither was it good.

As I had barely bit down my sad homemade sandwich for lunch, I heard a loud screech coming from behind me. I was tempted to hide under my desk but decided against it.

“Y/N!”

 I turned around to face my evil boss: Ms. Lee.

Before I could even answer, she started babbling about, rummaging through the documents on the surface of my desk and destroying every ounce of my setup whatsoever.

“Can I help with something?” I muttered under my breath, half-wishing she wouldn’t have heard it.

“If you did your job correctly, you wouldn’t have to ask, would you now?” she snapped back like an angry Chihuahua.

I pressed my tongue against my front teeth, holding back any sorts of remarks that I might’ve wanted to yell at her. My new work friend, Mi-ja tried to cover her smile from across the desk facing me but miserably failed.

“Where are the charts from floor twenty?” my boss squeaked, her eyes shooting lasers at me.

“The what?”

She deeply sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose like it wasn’t only my second week in the business. With a voice trembling with anger, she gathered her thoughts.

“I need the GOT7 charts, you hear me? I asked hours ago for you to get them!”

My eyes widened: is that what she was shouting when I entered her office at 8 am with the wrong coffee? My boss kept shaking her head vehemently, deeply disappointed in me. I’d lie if I said it didn’t hurt a small bit, but I learned long ago not to bother with bullies like her.

“I’ll get them right away,” I stated calmly.

“You better!” she shouted again as she turned her back to me and paced down toward her office.

It was my turn to deeply inhale and exhale, letting the pressure of the last few minutes out.

“Ouch,” retorted Mi-ja with a pitiful expression.

“Yeah...”

I mumbled that word while beginning to make my way toward the elevator. With tensed shoulders, I pressed the 20th-floor button and let the doors close by themselves. It took a few stops to get there since my office was located on the 8th floor, but eventually, I stepped out in a luxurious lobby.

Windows were larger than on the HR floor; the light was plunging into the room, making it look much bigger than it actually was.

A cute secretary with platinum hair was sitting at the front desk; she offered me a sweet smile and greeted me in Korean.

“Hi,” I replied in English, “I’m here to get the documents for human resources,” I tried to explain clearly in case she wasn’t fluent.

She nodded at my word and smiled again. She turned around on her wheeling chair and grabbed a thick black folder.

“Here you go,” she let out in a tiny voice.

“Thank you!”

She bowed and I made my way back to the elevator; if only everyone in this building was as nice as her, life would be much easier.

A millisecond after the doors started closing; I heard a loud yelp from the reception hall. I rapidly placed my hand between the sensors, stopping the elevator in its motion. Unfortunately, while doing so, I struggled with the file which was securely locked in the crook on my elbow: a few sheets of paper fell on the floor, provoking a deep sigh from my throat.

I didn’t even look at the person entering the cabin as I crouched to pick up the fallen sheets.

“Mianhada,” apologized the man in Korean.

“It’s okay,” I retorted in English, my eyes focused on the task.

In a hurry, the man crouched down to help me. His hands went directly for the ground, but I had already recuperated my work. It’s at that moment that I crossed his gaze.

His brown irises shined with guilt and sorry, but that’s not what my thoughts were on about. To resume, my mind went like: holy fucking shit that is Park Jinyoung, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! What do I do? How do I look? Oh, he must think I’m an idiot! And so on and on like a twelve-year-old girl meeting her favourite idol.

By his facial expression: my jaw must’ve fallen on the floor. I couldn’t control it fast enough to look at least remotely professional. No, instead, I opted for the shocked face and widened eyes.

He offered me a polite smile, but something in his irises was off; like a glint of annoyance. Perhaps he was tired of being looked at this way.

Slowly, we both went back to standing awkwardly, my mouth shut and his arms crossed on his chest. He cleared his throat, hastily apologized again and pressed the first-floor button.

I analyzed his reflection on the metallic doors: he was wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt, some jeans, a pair of glasses and sneakers. In every way, shape, and form, did he look perfect.

But something was definitely wrong in the way he was holding himself. I shyly eyed him, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Although I had previously thought he was annoyed by my behaviour, perhaps something else was bothering him: he stared deadly into the void, his breathing low as his chest was heaving up and down.

I wanted to ask him if he was all right, but I held the thought in, knowing it wasn’t my place.

After picking up a person on the 18th floor and dropping them on the 16th, I wiggled, ill-a-ease, on my feet. I was ashamed of my initial reaction and somehow wanted to fix the image I had given.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... insult you,” I let out quietly while fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

Baffled, Jinyoung’s eyes widened and he looked at me, intrigued. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could even make a sound, a loud thud was heard from the top of the elevator.

With a strident screech, the cabin came to a difficult stop, making the whole world shake around us. I squeaked as I grabbed one of the handles, fear clawing through my whole body.

Jinyoung also held on, but didn’t make a sound; the only thing apparent was the worry on his flawless face. He looked up, then at me, questions marks in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” I inquired even though I knew none of us could even begin to answer that question.

“I don’t know,” he responded with a thick Korean accent.

We waited a few seconds before we both straightened our backs. As I looked around, I pointed out the shining red button with a phone on it. Jinyoung nodded and went directly to press it.

I was trying to control my thoughts and heartbeat, but both of them were getting wild.

A man's voice made itself heard; Jinyoung explained the problem, in Korean, with worry plastered on his face. The man responded, but I couldn’t quite catch what he was saying; still, I took reassurance in Jinyoung’s facial reactions and slight nodding: concern seemed to be washing away from his irises.

When he turned back around to face me, I composed myself and tried to look remotely calm.

“What’s the verdict?” I inquired with an unwanted shaky voice.

“He said at least one hour,” the idol admitted while pointing one finger in the air, “they have to call... huh...” he struggled to find his word, “maintenance?” he finally let out, unsure.

I acquiesced with a nod, but those words did not reassure me; on the contrary, my heart went flying as if it was trying to burst out of my chest. Dizzy, I struggled to stay on my feet.

I remembered a few tricks my therapist had told me, back in my hometown: 1) take deep breaths, 2) ask yourself if it’s really the end of the world, 3) what do you do to relax? Try to do it in that situation.

So, I started breathing in and out, imagining a square filling up with air in front of me, holding my breath for four seconds, and releasing it as the square emptied itself. It was a helpful strategy, but my thoughts were still racing.

Jinyoung stared at me, confused by my sudden behaviour, but I ignored him.

I placed my back against the wall and let my body slide on the floor, my breathing still not regularizing itself. With trembling hands, I put my important folder on the ground and pulled my legs on my chest.

You’re not going to die. The elevator is not going to fall.

I kept repeating these two sentences in my head, over and over again. Perhaps that is why I didn’t notice when Jinyoung kneeled in front of me.

“Are you okay?” he inquired, worried.

I tilted my head to the side, and, without really wanting to, gave him the do-I-look-like-I’m-okay? eyes.

He realized his mistake and softly apologized in a murmur I had barely heard over the pounding in my ears. Jinyoung put his other leg on the ground and, suddenly, placed a hand over my knee; his warmth reaching all the way through my jeans.

My eyes darted toward him, but he didn’t budge. With a comforting half-smile, he locked gaze with me.

“You are gonna be okay,” he simply said, his fingers squeezing me lightly. “Help is on the way.”

I wondered how his English had improved in the last twenty seconds but pushed the strange thought away when he opened his mouth again.

“Repeat,” Jinyoung ordered.

I looked at him with puzzled eyes.

“Repeat,” he said again, determination in his irises.

I gulped; my throat dried from the panic.

“I-I...” I started with difficulty, “I’m gonna be okay... Help... Help is coming.”

Once again, a small simper appeared on his lips.

“Good”

It was the only word he said before switching his position to sitting. Surprisingly, he didn’t move far away like I thought he would’ve; he stayed very close as if he was scared I would have started panicking if he’d move.

With a sigh, he let his head collide on the wall in a soft thud. Desperate, he ran a hand through his hair, making me wonder how I could even contain myself being this close to a man like him.

After a few minutes of total silence, he eyed me. I was fidgeting with my fingers, my head telling me not to move too quickly or the elevator might fall.

“What’s your name?” Jinyoung questioned out of nowhere.

I jerked my head up to meet his curious gaze.

“Y/N,” I responded in a whisper.

“You’re not from here?” he inquired again, his attention peaked.

“No”

He hummed in response as if he finally understood me.

“How long have you worked here?”

Now it was me who was intrigued: why the sudden interest? I stared at him and blinked a few times. When he finally noticed my glare, he returned it.

“Hum...” I let out, intimidated, “a few weeks.”

“You like it?”

“So far, so good”

He kept nodding his head like he was fascinated by the conversation.

“Why are you asking me that?” I finally gathered the courage to ask.

Jinyoung scoffed and lazily put one of his legs under him.

“Just curious,” he finally admitted, his hand reaching for his phone that had just started to ring.

He answered it, said a few words way too quickly and hung up like it was the worst exchange he had ever had.

“Tough day?” I jokingly told him.

“Yeah,” he sighed, letting me surprised that he even answered.

From what I remembered, Park Jinyoung was the kind of person who did not talk a lot; on the contrary, he seemed like a very silent type of guy.

“Me too,” I breathed out, lifting my hands in the air.

He chuckled at my reaction.

“So, what’s up?” I inquired bluntly, “I mean, what’s wrong?”

I blushed when his eyes locked with mine; a glint of disbelief in his brown irises. He slightly squinted his eyelids and looked at me like I was some kind of crazy woman. Although I was sure he was about to flip me off or something, Jinyoung simply sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Had an argument with one of the members,” he finally confessed, his expression switching from surprise to anger, but then to sadness.

“I’m sorry; I know it sucks to argue with family,” I offered a genuine reply, knowing that they’re not related, but might as well be.

“And what about you, what’s wrong?” he returned the question after cutely smiling at me.        

“My boss is a bitch,” I blurted out without hesitation.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by my matter-of-fact response. I awkwardly laughed, realizing it might not have been the best thing to say to a man like Jinyoung. But, instead of looking at me weirdly, he just softly chuckled, his gaze bearing mine.

“Are you always like this?” he scoffed.

“Just when I’m stuck God knows how many feet in the air,” I replied sarcastically, pursing my lips together.

“I thought I was very unlucky today,” the idol stated, his voice deep, “but there are worst places to be right now.”

His eyes searched mine while my lips stretched delicately into a soft smile; had Jinyoung just kind of complimented me?

“You’re not wrong, there are definitely worst people to be stuck in an elevator with,” I added.

A warm and deep laugh emitted from his throat, provoking my smile to grow even more. For a moment, it felt like I wasn’t even battling against my fear of heights, and it released the tension in my shoulders. Looking at Jinyoung laugh had erased all panic from my brain and for the first time in a few minutes, I was able to breathe normally.

“You didn’t ask my name,” he eventually said.

I scoffed.

“It’s because I already know it, Park Jinyoung.”

“I see, you are IGOT7?”

I rolled my eyes at him; there was no way in hell I was about to let him know I used to be their biggest fan.

“I work here, stupid,” I jokingly let out.

He faked being offended and burst out laughing, his hand hiding his mouth.

“So, you don’t like us?”

“Did I say that?” I replied way too hastily.

With an arrogant smile, he tilted his head to the side and stared at me with sparkly eyes.

“What?” I asked.

He smiled to himself and slightly shook his head with a chuckle as if he had just thought about something funny, but the words that came out of his mouth were everything but.

“You’re just really beautiful,” he complimented me, causing my saliva to get stuck in my throat.

I coughed under the surprise and hid my face between my knees which were still glued to my chest. I heard Jinyoung make fun of me, and muffled my very own laugh on my legs. When I finally straightened my head, his eyes were still focused on me.

I profusely blushed before he decided to end my torture and looked away.

Strangely enough, the following moment wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be; we just stayed there and stupidly smiled for minutes.

A few thoughts crossed my mind as I observed the man in front of me. I admired his dark hair dishevelled after what I assumed might’ve been a dance practice, his nose scrunching from time to time as he was reacting to his own thoughts, the way he kept peculiarly twisting his fingers, but most importantly, how only his presence was soothing me and alleviating my fears.

Out of the blue, I decided to change position. After all, we only have one life to live, don't we? So why spend it hesitating and not grasping the moment? Bluntly, I wiggled my body until I was sitting right next to Jinyoung. I tried to do it as slowly as possible so the cabin wouldn’t move and I supposed that that was the reason he chuckled at me.

He didn’t say a word after that, which I thought was a good sign. His body even loosened up when my arm brushed against his.

What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?

I forcefully pushed my reflections away and stopped moving; my heartbeat kicking up once again but for a very different reason.

Perhaps it was the lack of air in the cabin or the sudden heat washing over me, but my brain stopped working completely. Slowly but surely, I slid my head on Jinyoung’s shoulder. I half-expected him to jerk away or tell me to fuck off, but instead, he smirked. All I could see from where I was looking was his cheeks inflate from his smile.  

“You’re strange,” he murmured.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I muttered back with a chortle.

“It is a compliment.”

I slightly shook my head, still on his shoulder, and exhaled slowly.

We stayed like that for what felt like an hour; not talking, just enjoying each other’s silence. At one point, Jinyoung even placed his hand on mine like it was nothing. My mind was racing, but who was I to refuse to hold hands with Park Jinyoung?

Somehow, the day had started horribly and, when the elevator got stuck, I thought it was the worst time of my life, but with Jinyoung by my side it didn’t feel so bad anymore.

It’s a strange situation to bound over, but somehow, it was perfect.

I had no idea if he felt the same way, but to me, that moment would be worth cherishing for a long time.

We both got extremely startled when we heard a voice on the speaker. In a swift movement, and, not going to lie, some reluctance, we got on our feet and listened to the man’s speech. Jinyoung translated it to a few words: they’re here.

“Really?” I let out unimpressed as I rolled my eyes, “he literally spoke for five minutes and that’s your takeaway?”

With a defeated smile, Jinyoung shrugged his shoulders and, I swear to God, if I had had the time, I would’ve kissed him right there and then.

But it was barely a millisecond later that we heard a loud thud and the elevator moved. Instinctively, I grabbed Jinyoung’s arm and held it close to me. He slid a hand over mine and squeezed it lightly.

We both looked up, surprised when a large man appeared over us. He seemed to be a fireman. I guessed maintenance couldn’t quite fix the problem. He greeted us with a smile and Jinyoung replied in Korean. I laughed at our saviour’s apparently very casual and chill demeanour; he sure as hell knew how to relieve the tension out of a very stressful situation.

“The door is right over us,” explained Jinyoung, translating the fireman’s words to me, “he’s going to help up get there, lift us.”

My eyes widened.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” said the idol, his eyes trying to comfort me.

I nodded when the fireman held one of his hands down. I placed the important folder, the one thing that had started all of this, inside my shirt. Then, I grabbed the man’s hand with strength and pulled at the same time as him. Jinyoung came to my rescue a few seconds later, putting his hands under one of my feet and giving me a powerful trust.

In an instant, I was standing on the top of the elevator, about to throw up. Our saviour offered a hand to Jinyoung, but he refused it. Instead, he jumped and grabbed the edge of the small opening and pulled himself over to us.

I couldn’t help but admire him while he was doing so, hoping I wasn’t sporting a look of pure admiration and desire as I thought I was.

I couldn’t let go of Jinyoung’s arm even when we finally reached stable ground; unfortunately, I had to when a team of first aid workers rushed to him like he was about to die. I was pulled away from him rapidly.

It was a strange view, how they were all over him, checking his vitals and bringing him water. I, on the other hand, was left alone, next to the fireman who was also watching the scene, as speechless as I was. Idols are seen as gods, and, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one to think differently, but this just hit differently.

I waited a few minutes, thinking I might get some aid too, apart from our saviour who gently brought me a bottle of water, but the aid team was too focused on Jinyoung to even notice me. When my phone rang, I deeply sighed, noticing my boss’s name on the tiny screen.

I answered and, as expected, received a bunch of screams from the other side. I tried to explain the situation, but she wasn’t having it. Anger ran down my spine and, as if the last hour hadn’t happened, the shitty day came back with a fiery blast.

I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose, a strong headache hitting me. With one last look toward Jinyoung, who seemed to have been given oxygen to, I redirected myself to the stairs.

I thanked the fireman as well as I could and pushed the door. With trembling legs, I started climbing down, tears forming in my eyes without my consent.

“Wait!”

I turned around after hearing someone shout after me. At first, I thought it might’ve been the first aid team, but was surprised by a concerned Jinyoung running down the stairs as fast as he could. He still had a ripped oxygen mask around his neck.

He tried to pull my arm to go back up, but I refused.

“I gotta go back to work,” I stated with a thick American accent.

“No, you have to get help,” he pushed.

“I’m fine,” I half-lied.

I mean, I was fine physically: the panic had passed, I wasn’t feeling as dizzy anymore, and my heartbeat was back to normal. Mentally, it was another thing, but that wasn’t important right now.

He gave me the don’t-lie-to-me look but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders.

“Okay then,” he started, ready to compromise, “give me your number so I can check up on you later.”

“W-What?” I stuttered.

“You heard,” he frowned while getting his phone out of his pocket.

I raised an eyebrow at him and didn’t grab his device.

“Do it,” he ordered, getting impatient.

I rolled my eyes until they reached the back on my head and grasped the iPhone. I entered my digits lazily like I was getting scolded by my mom. With a smirk, he took his phone back and called me.

“Why are you calling me?” I replied, ignoring it with a swipe of the thumb.

“So you have my number too and you’ll answer when I call you and ask you on a date.”

I jerked my head up, my gaze crossing his, but I couldn’t bear it for long. His smile had widened and his irises were shining like never before. I anxiously bit my lower lip and shook my head, baffled by his flirting. Before I could even add anything, Jinyoung grabbed my chin and forced me to lock eyes with him.

“Y/N, meeting you was the best part of my day,” he started with a raspy voice, “and right now, all I can think about is spending more time with you.”

I had previously wondered if I had left as much of an impression on him as he had left on me, and I was more than happy to get a response to my inquiry.

My lips stretched into a soft smirk and I could feel the heat crawl up to my heart, clawing through my thick anti-feeling wall like never before. I chuckled when he offered me the cutest smile ever.

“I’d like that too,” I replied delicately, my hand reaching his which was still holding my chin.

He grinned and slightly shook his head.

“I’m glad we met,” Jinyoung added.

“Me too.”

With a simpering smile, he slowly pulled his hand away and bore my gaze. I couldn’t quite decipher the look in his irises, but something was telling me I’d have all the time in the world to size that man up.

“I’ll see you later then, Y/N,” he finally stated, my name rolling on his tongue, as he analyzed my face.

He leaned in and I anxiously stopped breathing. In a very soft manner, Jinyoung brushed his lips over my cheek and kissed it for much longer than necessary; it caused my legs to tremble under me as if I had just gotten out a crazy rollercoaster.

“Yes, you will,” I admitted, my voice playful as he leaned back, desire plastered over his face.

And with those words, he turned around and climbed back the stairs, leaving me completely baffled and shocked, but also filled with excitement and joy.

What a day, I thought to myself, and what a man.

I exhaled deeply, but this time, it felt amazing. I climbed down the stairs much more calmly than minutes before, my head stuck in the clouds and my stomach filled with butterflies.

I had to admit, if I ever had to get stuck in an elevator with someone again, I’d choose Park Jinyoung in a heartbeat.