#ANAESTHESIA MASTERLIST

[elysianightsss]

ANAESTHESIA | PART ONE

Success comes with a lot of perks. The way people view you changes. I only found out after I succeeded that success is meaningless when you have no one to share it with.

I lost the only family I had. I lost the desire to make a family too. So, I traded a family home for a nice car. You smiled as you open the door to your black Volvo S90. The car smelled of cinnamon and pumpkin spice thanks to the new air freshener you had bought yesterday.

The light brow leather seats were what initially caught your eye when you bought this car. But then again with the money you had been offered in your hospital transfer, it didn’t matter what the colour of the seats were.

Placing your shopping bags on the seat behind you, you began to drive home. Home was an apartment above the restaurant Farah had bought. Your best friend had moved to the city with you to start her dream of opening the best restaurant slash bar slash karaoke joint in the city.

You were so happy when she told you, so happy that you weren’t going to lose her too. Still there are things you lose that you never forget. Simon comes to mind whenever you think about that. Your parents were both dead, that’s something you couldn’t have prevented, but loosing Simon. You could���ve stopped that.

You remember the first day you met him like it was yesterday; Both troubled. He owned a motorcycle and you wore short leather skirts. He’d punch guys for looking you up and down but never discouraged you wearing those outfits, it was almost like he was glad to have a reason to inflict pain. He was rough and immature. But you were so young back then, it almost seemed normal.

You know better now.

You parked and made your way up the back steps to your front door, “I’m home!” You had barely taken your shoes off and slipped into your fluffy slippers when Farah came rushing out with a ladle in her hand.

“Here! Here! Taste this!” She pushed it against your lips and watched eagerly as you slurped down the rich tomato sauce. “Good?” She waited with raised eyebrows, only seeming to relax a little with my nod. “Ah I knew it was good! The new sauce for our pasta, I’ll have Frank make a bigger batch tomorrow.” She squealed and basically skipped back to the kitchen.

You laughed at her, such a cutie. Dropping your shopping bags by the door, you shrugged off your coat and followed her to the kitchen. Looking around to find saucepans and jars upon jars of red tomato sauce.

“Um Farah? Honey? I don’t think Frank will need to make anything with the amount you’ve already made.” You looked at her like she was a little crazy and maybe she was with the way she whipped her head around to look at you, left eye twitching slightly.

“But it needs to be fresh for the customers.” She almost pouted, you felt bad. Or you would have done if she didn’t look like she wanted to become an axe murderer just to hunt you down.

“Of course.” You backed out of the kitchen, slowly. “I’m gonna take a shower.” You whispered then darted out the room, making a run for the bathroom.

A long hot shower to wash away your day was exactly what you needed. You hadn’t even started yet officially, but you wanted to get a feel for the place. The massive place. It was three times as large as the last hospital you worked at, it had north, south, east and west wings and fourteen floors.

Infinity hospital was one out of four overpriced hospitals created by the Queen long before she passed. They were the top four hospitals in the country and you’d been asked to join the biggest and best one.

It had four huge cafeterias, one in each corner, and even sleep rooms for the doctors and nurses on call. Rooms with three bunk beds in each, scattered around the hospital for doctors on extra long shifts to rest. Common areas for studying and even a library there.

It was amazing when you’d gone in to see the place. You’d wanted to look around at your own pace and see exactly what you wanted to see not what the tour guide wanted when she rushed you around a week ago.

Then after hearing the commotion that a mob boss had a head injury and his gang was making a fuss about the doctor on call not being there. You pulled on your white lab coat and made your way to the emergency area, but they were already pushing you out the way for not being a male doctor. To say you had to fight some of the gang members was an understatement.

Your years of women’s self defence classes and jujitsu classes paid off as you kicked the gang out just as the boss had a hemorrhagic stroke. You rushed him to an emergency MRI to see he had bleeding on the brain.

A nurse you couldn’t remember the name of now, had told you how you couldn’t do the surgery as the on call doctor was in charge of all surgeries today. To then find out he’d left the building you’d scoffed and rolled your eyes moving swiftly to change into scrubs and perform surgery on the mob boss.

After the successful procedure, you passed the man over to the nurses to keep on top of his health until your rounds tomorrow. You even got a Thankyou from him when he woke up. Who knew your first day at your new job would be so eventful….and stressful.

Shopping was always therapeutic for you, so filling those bags that still sat by the front door was your way of blowing off steam after a hard surgery and a team of staff that were loyal to a surgeon who hadn’t even stayed at the hospital for any emergencies that could have happened.

You dried your hair, and got into bed ready to snuggle down after a long day when your phone dinged.

Come to level 8. East wing to discuss your actions today.

- DR. Riley

No.

You replied straight away and without hesitation. This doctor Riley could wait until tomorrow. It was midnight and you had an early and very long shift tomorrow. There was no way you were going back to the hospital now. Especially not to ‘discuss your actions’.

Must be the doctor in charge of the surgeries yesterday, you thought as you slowly drifted to sleep.

“Farah! I don’t tell you how to do your job, you don’t tell me how to do mine!” Frank huffed, looking down at the annoyed woman in front of him. Frank woods, a true gem that Farah had met during a culinary class. He had just quit his last job when Farah had contacted him about becoming the chef for The 141 restaurant. He snapped the job up quick.

“My job is to tell you how to do your job!” Farah scoffed, and the bickering continued.

“Why didn’t you tell me it started already?” Joseph Allen, courier by day, bartender by night came into the kitchen eyes on the pair fighting.

“They started early.” You answered, handing him a cup of coffee.

“How long they been at it?” He pulled up a stool next to yours and sat down.

“Ten minutes already.” You sipping your own coffee as you watched the entertainment in the form of Frank and Farah arguing about how the onions are supposed to be sauté.

“Okay I gotta get to work, fill me in later please. I wanna know who wins this time.” You giggle at Joseph who shakes his head with a laugh of his own but ultimately agrees to your terms.

You leave with a bye to the kitchen staff and head on over to the hospital. It was like fate when Farah managed to buy the building practically next to the hospital you had just been moved to. You took one last glance as the lit up 141 sign above the doors before heading over to start your shift.

Simon’s head was about to explode if he had to hear how great this new fellow was one more time. It was only breakfast and the cafeteria was full of people who were talking about how amazing she was.

So amazing she couldn’t even meet him to discuss her performing surgery on a patient without his consent. “Well don’t you look happy this morning. Someone spit in your coffee?”

“Piss off John.” He cursed the man who had placed his food tray on the table and sat down in the chair opposite him. Kyle sitting down next to John with a fat grin plastered to his face.

“Seen Johnny this morning? Need to go over some things for surgeries today.” John had asked Simon who seemed to be in a particularly bad mood this morning. But if the news spreading around the hospital was anything to go by, he could guess why.

“No. Why don’t you use this miraculous thing invented. It’s called a phone.” Simon gave him a fake smile before a real smirk began. “Though since they were invent before you were even born I suppose I can let it slide you not knowing and all.”

“Oh shut up.” John barked but laughed non the less. He was a good sport like that, he wasn’t even that old but his friends just loved to poke fun, even with the small age gap between him and Simon.

Pulling out his phone and hitting the contact named ‘Scotland Yard’ he put the device to his ear. A few rings and Johnny answered, the two discussed matters of the day while Kyle continued to tease a very grumpy Simon.

“I know there’s a new fellow but we don’t know if she’s even fully trained yet——yes I did hear about yesterday but-“ Johnny continued to argue with John about his beauty sleep being majorly important. He’d been assisting with all of John and Simon’s surgeries while the hospital looked for a new fellow after the last one left. Now that she was here he could finally get some rest.

The murmuring that was already loud in the north cafeteria began to get even louder. It had all three men looking around confused to see where the outburst had come from. A huge crowd of people drew them in, all of their eyes landing on the one thing they never expected to see again, you.

“John? John!” Johnny’s voice came through the phone but John couldn’t look away from you, couldn’t even form a single thought. “Ah fuck this. I’m coming down there.” The beep beep beep from the call ending was ignored just as much as Johnny had been. John was star struck looking at you how gorgeous you were. You didn’t look that different from that night, so beautiful under him and so willing. The picture forever burned into his memory, but he never thought he’d see you again.

Kyle’s eyes were wide as he watched you smile and shake hands of the staff that were gushing over you and your actions yesterday. After your break up he did so much to try and get over you, some things he’s not so proud of. Going to medical school because of your determination to be a doctor was something he was very much proud of. He thought of your patience every time he dealt with a difficult patient, he thought of you. But he never thought he’d see you again.

Johnny arrived from one of the sleep rooms where he’d been napping to see a crowd of people, unusual for Infinity. His breath caught in his throat when one of the members of staff moved to the right a little to reveal you.

You, his friends with benefits buddy that had eventually had him wanting more. Had him wanting dinner and a movie. Had him asking you to come with him to Scotland so he could introduce you to his parents at Christmas. Then things had turned sour, you had never wanted any of that. You made that clear and so had he. Getting attached wasn’t supposed to happen and finding your things packed up and gone when he was went to apologise the next day after your fight was like a wound on his heart that still throbs every time it rains. It was throbbing now, he never thought he’d see you again.

Simon had short circuited. He was sure someone would need to rewire him to work again. He was frozen. You, his Bonnie. The Bonnie to his Clyde, stood there all made up like you had been born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You hadn’t. Was your hair always that colour? He’d pushed you so far into the back of his head to forget his precious Bonnie that he couldn’t remember. Fuck, how could he not remember? But then again, he didn’t think he needed to remember. He never thought he’d see you again.

Yet here you were.

To be continued…

[lev1hei1chou]

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

A- Angst

F- Fluff

C- Comfort

Requests open

GOJO SATORU

Boyfriend!Gojo (F) - Oddly specific Bf!Gojo headcanons By Your Side (A, F) - What if Gojo didn't die and was revived Dentist Calls (F) - Gojo gets a cavity Kikufuku (F) - Kikufuku chef Gojo ft. his cooking partner Serendipity (F) - A tall, handsome stranger at a bookshop 9:01 (F) - Gojo gets a piercing with you Why him? (F) - Gojo's daughter wants to marry uncle Geto 7:36 (F) - Gojo proposes in his own style As I Was Saying (F) - Gojo is determined to interrupt your phonecall First Day (F) - Dad Gojo's sends his child to preschool Skincare Rituals (F) - Gojo and skincare Jealousy, Jealousy (F) - Gojo gets hit on at a date Marked By Love (F) - Gojo finds your tattoo A Blossoming Proposal (F) - Gojo has competition: a child. Gym Time (F) - Gojo works out with you Curses Unveil Confessions (F) - Confess after getting injured in a mission Sick Day (F) - Gojo is a total pain when he's sick First Steps (F) - Dad Gojo gets a surprise when he returns from a mission Flowers For You (F) - Gojo gets you flowers, just because Birthday Present (F) - Dad Gojo teaches your toddler some words Little Snitch (F) - Gojo's son is a snitch Caught (F) - Gojo and your child have been caught lying Mini Gojo (F) - You dress up your baby like a miniature of Gojo Monopoly (F) - Gojo and the gang play monopoly Boop Wars (F) - You boop Gojo and start the boop war Birds and bees? (F) - How are babies made? You hug! Old Man (F) - A child calls Gojo 'old man' Grammy (F) - Gojo thinks he deserves a grammy Impressioner (F) - Gojo tries to impress you (and fails) Kitchen Catastrophe (F) - Gojo isn't the best cook, but he tries Fashion Icon (F) - Gojo's baby has to be a fashion icon 7:25 (C) - You think Gojo deserves better Cravings (F) - Gojo rates your pregnancy cravings Run Away (F) - Gojo's daughter wants to run away from home 3:27 (F) - Gojo finds you sleeping in his uniform A Dad's Promise (F) - Gojo meets his baby for the first time Make or Break (A-F) - You get into an argument with Gojo Abstract Art (F) - Gojo tries painting and calls it "abstract art" Family Halloween (F) - Halloween featuring your little addition Sleeping Beauty (F) - You fall asleep on Gojo A New Addition (F) - Gojo and your child return from a walk with a puppy Tantrums (F) - How can Gojo say no to his precious miracle? Gojo to the Rescue (F) - Gojo picks up his tipsy girlfriend Photobooth Session (F) - Gojo goes into a photobooth with you Physics Class (F) - Gojo teaches physics to his child, and it doesn't go the way they want it to. Cafe Drama (F) - Gojo loves drama when he’s not the center of it Aunt Flo (F) - That time of the month Daddy's Little Stylist (F) - Gojo's daughter gives him a makeover

Bunny Boy (F) - Gojo loses a bet One Piece (F) - Gojo is jealous of your favourite fictional men Gummy Date (F) - Gojo and an impromptu gummy date Anesthesia Antics (F) - Gojo feels loopy thanks to the anaesthesia A What? (F) - You ask for a baby out of nowhere Silent Treatment Prank (F) - Gojo tries the silent treatment prank on you Hoodie Thief (F) - Gojo's hoodies have been disappearing mysteriously Tricks (F) - What Gojo does to make you talk to him again Late, but why? (F) - Gojo is late to a date. Why? Cuddles and Jealousy (F) - Gojo is jealous of your baby 10:07 (F) - Soft Gojo hours A Silent Drive (A,F) - You're upset at Gojo Gojo And Love Languages (F) Little Rival (F) - Your baby is Gojo's rival

NANAMI KENTO

Faded (A) - Breaking up with Nanami The Shibuya Incident (A) - Nanami's fate in Shibuya, pt 2 of Faded Warm Mornings (A) - He's not gone, right? pt 3 of Faded Second Chances (F) - Patch up with Nanami, alt ending of Faded Trip to Malaysia (F) - Nanami moves to Malaysia with you A Future with You (F) - Nanami builds a future, pt 2 of Trip to Malaysia Sakura Blossom (F) - Cafe date with Nanami Little Superhero (F) - Dad Nanami gets called to the preschool Zoo Day (F) - Nanami visits a zoo in Australia

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Guardian (F) - Toji saves someone, uncharacteristically

GETO SUGURU

Geto's Warning (F) - Geto's daughter wants to marry uncle Gojo

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

Orange Peel Theory (F) - Gojo, Nanami Lipstick Kisses (F) - Gojo, Nanami Makeup Artists (F) - Gojo, Nanami, Toji My Husband (F) - Gojo, Nanami Your child wants a sibling (F) - Gojo, Nanami

[jasmines-library]

Needle and thread.

WHUMPTOBER DAY 19. Prompt: “no anaesthesia.” Fandom: Batfamily

Summary: Dick is forced to carry out a life-saving emergency surgery when you are too far away to reach help before it becomes too late.

Warnings: Impalement, blood, gore, stitching, needles.

Word count: 1k (short but sour, I had to do this quickly sorry.)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Dick Grayson would never forget your blood curdling scream the moment the rebar punctured your stomach, ripping up skin and muscle as it forced its way through your back.

You had been flung sideways by the villain you had been fighting. The force of his throw has caused you to topple over the side of the scaffolding and sent you plummeting to the ground. Unluckily for you, you happened to land on the scrap metal.

He cried out, cursing as he fought to get to you. It was only supposed to be a simple patrol, but he was outnumbered. Dick fought hard, landing kick after kick and blow after blow with his sticks to reach you. When he landed heavily on his feet beside you, he could already see the puddle of blood below you. It gushed freely from your body. Raw and red and beautiful.

Your mouth was agape, panting against the pain. Your eyebrows upturned behind your mask as your face contorted in agony.

For a moment, he couldn’t move. He was stuck still staring at the blood stained steel. Your muscles clenched around it as you writhed.

“Y/n.” He dropped to his knees beside you when reality hit him like a ton of bricks. “Fuck.”

“Dick…”

His hands hovered over your body; he was too afraid to touch you as if touching you was going to break your fragile body more. He was wide eyed, mind running at a thousand miles a minute. He knew he needed to move you, but the rusty metal bar was the only thing preventing you from bleeding out completely. He had hit the emergency signal on his suit, and he knew help was on the way, but he had no way to gauge how long it would be before they arrived.

“Okay…” he breathed out unsteadily. His hands trembled as they moved around your body, coaxed in your blood. “I have to move you.”

Nodding, you clenched your eyes shut and gritted your teeth. Dick wrapped his hands around yours to haul you off of the bar. You howled, muscles twitching as it was ripped through you again. Your vision blurred as he lay you back down on the ground, applying pressure hard to the wound.

“Come on, Y/n. Just stay with me a little longer. Help is coming.”

“Dick…” you forced out through wet coughs. “You have to do it.”

He shook his head frantically. He hated doing it. It was something that was only supposed to be a last resort. “No. No, I can't do that to you.”

He turned his head, desperate to spot the red and green suits heading his direction, but all he could see for miles were the lights of the city.

“Robin, where are you?” He asked into the coms.

There was a crackle before he replied. “I‘m going as fast as I can, but I’m about 10 minutes out.”

He cursed. You were too far out for him to reach the bat cave and Damian was still too far away. 10 minutes and you would have lost too much blood.

“Do it.” Yo pleased. “Dick. Please.”

He took a deep breath and turned his head away, before pulling out the needle and thread that was kept in the small Medkit you carried in your suit for emergencies. Dick struggled to thread the needle with the way his fingers shook. But after finally sterilising and threading the small tool, he positioned it above the wound. It was still bleeding heavily.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered as he made the first stitch.

You bucked forwards, contorting at the stabbing against your skin. He tried to be quick, but that did nothing to stop you feeling every stitch as the thread tugged against your skin to close the rift. You had almost blacked out by the time he had rolled you over to stitch up the entry wound. Every second was nothing but torment that seemed to replace the blood you lost.

By the time he had pulled the last stitch closed, you were a whimpering mess. Your face was stained with tears and your hair was a mess. Your whole body felt like one giant bruise; everything ached and your joints felt like a hinge that needed to be oiled.

Dick had tried his hardest to keep you awake, whispering sweet apologies into your hair as he rocked you back and forth in his arms, though you weren’t 100% sure who he was trying to make feel better; you or himself.

Your body had slowly begun to go numb after a while as you waited anstily for Damian to arrive. A chill had begun to set into your bones. By the time he had finally arrived, the pain and your senses had dulled into almost nothing at all.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 18 ⛤ DAY 20 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 23: MEDICAL PLAY Kisuke Urahara x F! Reader

Requested by: @electronicwitchcollection ➡ Hiya! I’m not 100 sure on how this works. But For your kinkiest could I please request 2 and you choose which you prefer? I can’t decide 😂. I can’t wait to see them all 💜 both with female please 20 shunsui kyoraku 23 kisuke Urahara. tw: mdni. medical play. mentions of pregnancy. kisuke kinda gaslights reader. tied to the bed. fingering. squirting. vag. wc: 855 masterlist

Kisuke Urahara isn’t a doctor, but he is a genius. Kisuke knows about the human -and souls- body perfectly well, and, when it comes to try new things, you are in charge of helping him…

“I honestly don’t understand the purpose of this experiment, Kisuke” you sigh, tied to a gyno bed.

“Come on, you know I won’t hurt you… I just want to see if Shinigami can get pregnant from a human without the need of a gigai” he calmly says, as he sits down in between your spread opened legs.

You widen your eyes. And lift your hands up.

“STOP… STOP! STOP!- WHAT? PREGNANT? KISUKE I AIN’T GETTING PREGNANT?” you protest, trying to close your legs with no positive result; your ankles had been tied to the bed.

You hear him scoff. How could he be that calm when you are freaking out?

Kisuke stands up and shows you how he in silence puts his gloves on. He comes closer, right in between your legs and smiles.

“I wasn’t planning on trying it on you… I just needed to take a look at your human features. However, now that you named it… I would pretty much wish my experiment was successful with you…” he jokes. -or maybe not-

You tilt your head and narrow your eyes. “You better don’t…” you sentence him, with your index pointing menacingly in motherly scold towards him.

He lifts his hands in sign of innocence and sits back down to keep “working” in your exposed core.

“I must say, however, that the idea might have turned you on, (Name)” he murmurs, playing with the wetness already forming in your sex. It was true, the idea seemed… interesting to say the least.

You soon notice the sterile intrusion of a latex surrounded finger. It makes you gasp, because you could swear your core felt a lot more sensitive than ever.

But you keep it calm. You don’t wanna give him the pleasure… why not? you still aren’t sure.

Then, a second one. He hums while he does, as if it was very normal to finger your “patient” with no sexual intentions.

“KISUKE!” you finally scold him. “What are you doing?” you ask, despite knowing it very well. He is having fun, and you will eventually come if he keeps doing that.

“What?” he mumbles, acting all innocent and peaking with his naughty eyes from above your legs. “I needed to test the way the human walls spasms around, in this case, my finger. I believe that part of a successful conception has to do with the capabilities of the female anatomy more than the man itself… this will be very helpful to improve my gigai prototypes”

You massage your temples, because even if it makes sense… you are sure he knows about that more than well…

“You liar…” you whisper, looking to the wall on the right. “Why am I a liar, (Name)? don’t tell me you can’t take it? Should I apply anaesthesia, so you feel more comfy?” he asks, smirking with a mocking tone.

You sigh, louder.

“Or do you want me to keep going because it feels very good? Mh?” he insists, standing up and coming even closer to your sex. “If you tell me… I can go further; orgasm is something I also need to fully study”

You feel your cheeks on fire, as you swallow and cover your eyes. “Go… further, Kisuke…” you mumble, shily -and honestly so needy-

“Say less!” he energetically answers back, and prepares to give you his special finger treatment… along maybe, with some vitamin D injection.

Kisuke sits back down, this time he takes off his gloves. “We don’t really need this, don’t we?”

One and then two fingers slide inside with no problem, and with beckoning motions he hits the upper wall of your insides. Kisuke knows exactly where and how to touch, and his hand on your lower belly pressing down makes it harder for you to keep it quiet.

You begin squirming, as the sounds of squirting liquids resonate all around his lab. You lose control of your lower half, trying to forcefully close your legs -and failing miserably-.

Orgasm is soon to arrive, and you can’t even moan by now… your eyes met his from above the brim of your hospital gown, and his smirk makes you shiver.

“Kisuke… I can’t- I am coming-“ you inform, even if he already knew by the growing spasms of your walls.

“Are you? Show me so I can take notes on every little sensation…” he whispers, calmly destroying your insides with his masturbating torture.

You nod, letting yourself go, exploding in a wet orgasm that bathes his forearm and gets him harder than ever before.

And, Kisuke, who is not willing to miss the sensation around his dick of your milking climaxing walls, immediately lowers his pants to guide his hard sex into you.

“Can I? this is also part of my investigation, you know” “Fuck me… you can investigate all you want, Kisuke ~” “Thanks for your contribution to science, (Name)… ngh fuck, you are too tight…”

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife💖

[whumpy-daydreams]

A (not so) brief guide to surgery

This is what the people want so this is what they'll get.

For reference, I spent 3 years training to be a surgical nurse (im not registered yet for Reasons). This is going to be UK-centric, and every hospital is slightly different, so if some things are different that's why.

Also this is not medical advice or anything I shouldn't have to clarify that. Ask your doctor about it if you're getting surgery.

Anyway this is getting long so here's a masterlist of posts

Types of surgery

Patient journey and staff roles

Anaesthesia basic equipment

General Anaesthesia

General Anaesthesia pt 2.

Local and regional anaesthesia

The operation

Surgical kit

Waking up and recovery

Drug list

Emergencies during surgery

Cardiac surgery

Hope this is vaguely useful, my asks are open if you have any questions

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry for the delay in this chapter, i fell asleep early last friday and then woke up at like 2AM and felt like watching Barbie instead. anyway, here it is.

masterlist

your wicked smile it says it all mixed with my sad and cynical

Y/N couldn't have followed the nurse faster the moment they told her Sadie was out of the operation room. She couldn't wait to be next to her, to see her. She already didn't like the idea that she hadn't been able to see hr before surgery so now all she wanted to do was not leave her sight. She was led by the nurse into the room they'd assigned Sadie. Once she got to the room, Sadie was already awake, looking at the TV in her room which was showing some cartoon that Y/N was certain Sadie was confused by, judging by her pouting and fiddling of the sheets.

      - Hi baby. - Y/N said as she got closer to Sadie. The red head turned around, smiling once she saw her. - What are you watching huh?

The 2-year old looked at her with glazed eyes, still under the effects of anaesthesia and other medications before shrugging. Y/N smiled, kissing her cheek and nose before grabbing the remote and logging into Disney so she could put on some Bluey for Sadie to watch. Her pout soon disappeared as the familiar blue heeler showed up on screen. Y/N straightened the sheets around her, trying to fluff up the pillow only to find it to be flatter than a pancake.

      - Hello, hello. - Bucky walked through the door carrying the toy box to place it next to the bed. - How are you, Sisi? Hm? You gave daddy a very big fright.

      - Sorry. - Sadie stared at the TV, more interested on the TV show. Bucky scanned through the box before starting to place her favourite plushies around her.

      - You got quite a tough one, Sergeant. - Doctor Tinsdale walked into the room, holding a medical board. - Surgery went well and unless something happens, you can take your daughter home. In 2 to 4 weeks, she'll be good as new.

      - Thank you. - Bucky shook the doctor's hand. - I really appreciate your help, Dr. Tinsdale.

      - Anytime, Sergeant. I'm very glad to have met your daughter and your wife.

Y/N looked up from the bed where she was with Sadie. Should she correct him? She wasn't Bucky's wife but if she said she wasn't maybe Dr. Tinsdale would put two and two together and realise that Sadie was not Y/N's daughter but instead his own daughter's daughter.

      - I'm really happy you finally settled down. - Dr. Tinsdale said, making the situation as equally awkward for Bucky. - Always thought you and my Anna would end up marrying but it doesn't look like you've done bad for yourself.

      - Yeah ... well ... - Bucky scratched the back of his neck. - Thank you once again.

      - I'll leave you three alone.

The door closed and the silence in the room couldn't be any louder. Y/N got to trying to fluff up the pillow again, going nowhere. What's the point in paying a really expensive health insurance if the hospital will only provide crepe thin pillows?

      - You're gonna be sued by that pillow if you continue to beat the heck out of it. - he chuckled, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, cuddling Sadie next to her.

      - Don't say the h word in front of Sadie. - she gave up on the pillow. - I'm gonna go to the gift shop and see if I can buy Sadie a better pillow.

      - Y/N, just rest. - Bucky put his hand on her waist to stop her from getting up. - You've been panicking over everything for the past hours. Just sit here with me and Sadie.

      - But she needs a pi ...

      - I'll tell Steve to bring hers from home when he comes to visit. - he took his phone out of his pocket to text Steve. - By the way ... who did you call? Chris?

      - You're obsessed with Chris. - she rolled her eyes, tucking Sadie in and moving her hair away from her face. - If I didn't know better I'd say you're in love with him.

      - You know, Anna showed up while you were asleep.

      - Really? - Y/N fiddled with the bedding, looking at the TV and now the very interesting episode of Bluey. More interesting than Bucky and his relentless teasing. - Nice chat?

      - It's just funny you see because I didn't call her and Steve said he didn't call her.

      - Maybe Dr. Tinsdale called her. After all you two used to ... you know ... do things.

      - Why would he call her? He thinks you're my wife and Sadie's mum so why don't you cut the lying and admit to calling Anna?

Y/N bite her lip, kissing the side of Sadie's head before telling her she would be right back. Last thing she wanted was to fight in front of Sadie, for all that Sadie knew she and Bucky only talked nice and it was all sunshine and rainbows. Bucky followed her, arms crossed. He didn't know where to find himself if angry or if super angry. How come Steve and Y/N wanted to keep playing peace makers?

      - What's with you starting a discussion in front of Sadie?

      - What's with me? What's with you? You called my kid's mother without my consent?

      - It's not like I fucked her, Bucky, you big drama queen. I called her because you were upset about her not being here.

      - You crossed a line. - he pointed at her but she looked at him unbothered. - It's my kid's mother, the most awful woman in the world.

      - I think that's an overstatement and you were upset, I wanted you to be happy. Besides, she birthed the kid, it's her right to know if she's ok or not.

      - Oh you need me to be happy?

      - I don't need you to happy! I just wanted to make you ... have you be happy. You were stressed!

      - God, you're such a little ... such a goddamn little ...

      - Bitch? - Y/N interrupted him and the colour drained from Bucky's face.

      - I didn't say that. - he raised his hands in defense. - I didn't say that.

      - Now you listen to me. - she stabbed his chest with her finger, taking a step forward as he took a step backward. - I will not apologise for telling the kid's mother that she's in the hospital. I will not apologise for telling her because if something happened, we might need her. I will not apologise, you hear me? If that makes me a bitch then be it. You wanna fire me? Fine.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something but instead just mumbled sorry before going back to his daughter's room. He thought he needed Anna to be here and she had been here so why wasn't he happy? Y/N stayed outside, she took a deep breathe. Had she crossed the line? Maybe, but she wanted him happy. She dragged her hands down her hair, holding them to the side of her face, closing her eyes.

      - Wow, you told him. - a voice made her snap her eyes open. A woman, an elegant woman, made her way towards her. - The rival companies ought to hire you.

      - I'm sorry, who are you?

      - I'm Anna. Anna Tinsdale. - she extended her hand towards her but Y/N only stared at her hand. - I wanted to meet you, well, meet you while you're awake. You did tell me you'd kill me if I didn't come to see Bucky.

      - Y/N. - she shook her hand slowly. - I ... I should get back inside before Sadie ...

      - Is she ok? Sadie? - Anna asked, a clear look of concern across her face.

Y/N felt a tang on her stomach, before giving her a sympathetic smile. She put her hand on Anna's back and guided her far from the room. Last thing that she wanted was for Bucky, Sadie or even Dr. Tinsdale to see Anna. Instead, the two walked to the waiting room and sat on the green chairs against the wall.

      - He doesn't tell me anything and just because I don't want to be her mother doesn't mean I don't worry. I mean, she came out of me for fucks sake. - she looked up. - I know you hate me.

      - I don't. I don't like you but I don't hate you either.

      - Me and James, we were friends and more than that for so long and I know that we'll never gonna get that but he just hates me now.

      - He doesn't hate you. - Y/N sighed. - He's just upset and you didn't do things the best way. I don't think Bucky actually hates anything.

Anna looked at Y/N before giving her a smile.

      - I'm glad she has you. - she held Y/N's hand, letting go before getting up. - Thank you for that. I'm glad she has you.

      - It'll get better. Give it time.

      - Not for me, but for you ... well, you'll see.

(...)

Sadie was a trooper. She'd come back home and was behaving as if she hadn't had surgery, mostly staying either in her room or in the living room whenever she got tired of the room. Y/N was cutting vegetables in the kitchen to make soup when the bell rang. She looked down at the RING camera screen on the kitchen seeing Chris. Fuck, she'd completely forgotten about Chris. She buzzed him in, before cleaning up her hands and opening the door. Chris stood there, wearing a long coat and a no doubt designer scarf while holding a bouquet of daisies.

      - Chris, hi.

      - Hey, Y/N. - he handed her the daisies. - How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while.

      - Oh you know ... - Y/N walked to the kitchen to grab a vase to put the flowers in. - Sadie got back from the hospital and I've been looking after her.

      - What about her father? Bucky hasn't left the company.

      - Bucky has work to do while I'm waiting for my supervisors to give me the final feedback on my thesis draft. - she looked at him, not wanting to get into a discussion which loomed over them. - Besides, Bucky usually takes her from 5 PM onwards.

      - So, you are free from 5PM?

      - Most days yes. - she leaned against the counter - Listen I'm sorry about not speaking to you for the past days, Sadie just got back from the hospital and I don't wanna leave her alone.

      - If you're free from 5PM, I could take you to dinner.

      - Chris ... - she sighed.

      - Doesn't have to be too far. Heck, we could go to the tapas place around the corner so you won't be too far from Sadie.

She found herself at a crossroads. She either said yes and avoided a discussion or she said no and the two would go round 4 on how Y/N spends most of her time with Sadie rather than living her own life. Right now, she preferred the first option.

      - Okay.

      - I'll pick you up.

(...)

Bucky came home and Sadie was wrapped in one of her quilted blankets, staring at the screen while Bluey played. How she hadn't gotten bored of it was still a surprise for him. He put his coat on the hanger and went to the couch, kissing the top of her head before starting to tickle her making her giggle.

      - What are you up to, bug? - he asked, straightening the blanket. - Still making a report on Bluey?

      - No.

      - No? Is this for fun then? - he leaned against the couch as Sadie cuddled against his side. - How are you today, bug? Any pain?

      - No.

      - Good. Where is Y/N? Have you banished her?

      - I'm here. - Y/N came down the stairs, holding a pair of heels in one hand and trying to put on her earrings with the other. - I'm here.

And here she was. Maybe she had decided to adopt a more formal style around the house, parading around in a black cocktail dress and an updo.

      - New dress?

      - No. - Y/N said, moving around to tidy up some of the rubbish that had started to accumulate in the living room. - Chris is coming to pick me up for dinner.

      - God, you're still going out with him. - he got up to follow Y/N to the kitchen. - You don't even like the guy.

      - Yes, I do. He brought flowers.

      - That would mean he likes you, not the other way around. Just admit it, he's boring and you don't like him.

      - I'll remember that once he's balls deep inside of me tonight.

      - Can't go that deep. - he chuckled. - You're just being stubborn. Or you're people pleasing. Either way, you don't really like him.

      - And you would know that because?

      - Because you've been dodging the guy since Sadie got to the hospital. Heck, you've been even using me as an excuse not to see him.

      - Is that all? I'm too tired to put up with you. - she threw her shoes to the ground to step onto them.

      - Why are you forcing this? So he's bad in bed, find someone who isn't.

      - He's not bad in bed.

      - Y/N, I know when a woman is satisfied in bed. I pride myself in it.

      - Oh yes because you are Bucky Barnes, lord of everything with tits.

      - You're a scholarly woman, don't use that sort of language.

      - Fine, mammary glands. - she rolled her eyes. - What makes you think that you're the only guy who's good in bed? I'll have you know that Chris is a gentleman.

      - So he cries in bed.

      - Why are we still discussing my sex life?

      - Fine. If it's not your sex life, then what is it? He is very boring but I thought maybe the two of you could discuss Columbia or something.

      - We're seeing each other, Bucky. But of course you wouldn't know about that since your idea of seeing someone is fucking their brains out.

Bucky cocked his head to the side, eyeing her up and down before walking up to her and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

      - Why? Are you jealous?

      - Urgh. - she pushed him away. - Sadie needs to go to bed by 7, Bucky. Not 9, or she'll be a little demon.

      - I would say have fun but we both know that won't happen. Maybe you should take a book not to bother yourself too much with him.

      - Maybe you should butt out of my life!

(...)

How dare he continue with this chatter? Y/N liked Chris. He was nice, he was perfectly nice. Sure, did he have anything else they conversed with other than Columbia? Usually no and his theories on modern psychology vastly diverted from hers. Yet, she was a scholar, a future member of the postdoctoral community and as such she had to accept different perceptions of theory. Moreover, who was Bucky Barnes to dish out relationship advise? The only woman she had thought had potential to be his girlfriend had been thrown aside by Bucky because, according to him, she had a weird attachment to her ex girlfriend. So, how come a man who hadn't dated a woman in probably more than 20 years had to weigh in on her relationship? Heck, he didn't even date the woman who was the mother of his child.

She looked at Chris as he continued to thrust into her. She wasn't entirely sure how long this had been going on but she did know she had checked her watch once. Was Bucky right? Was Chris boring in bed? No. No, this was just him doing what he does best, manipulating people into believing his words. Besides, what gave him the right to decide who was good or not in bed? Like, c'mon, he was attractive sure but not all attractive men are good in bed. Yet again, she had heard whispers and she had to admit he had one of those voices that dripped with lust and sin every time he used it in a whisper.

She thought about it, thought about how it would be to have him whisper dirty something in someone's ear in that accent of his. How his chapped lips would kiss down from her ear down to her neck in a prolongation of a tease, his hand skilfully toying with her clit. Now that was a man who wouldn't be a gentleman in the bedroom, he was barely one outside of it. He'd be the type to grab your hips and thrust into you without warning, moving like an animal until his everlasting stamina ran out. He'd be the type to grunt and moan against your ear.

      - James. - oh fuck. Chris starred at Y/N for a while, trying to compute what she had just said. He knew what she had just said.

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

      - What was that?

      - What was what? - maybe playing dumb would work. After all, it worked in old romantic movies. Maybe she could say she meant Thames yet who would moan over a river in the middle of less than exciting sex.

      - You moaned someone else's name.

      - Did I? - she hated herself. She hated to play the fool but she wasn't about to admit she was fantasising, wait, no, not fantasising, she wasn't fantasising about anyone, she was merely theorising about what sex with Bucky Barnes would be. Theory, not practice, not truth. - Shit, I'm sorry, I don't know where my head is.

      - I'll say. - Chris slipped out of her, pulling the comforter over the two of them. - You really need to quit that job. Your head hasn't been in the right place for the past month.

Thank god he hadn't connected the dots. That would be an awkward conversation.

      - I'm not gonna quit my job. I like my job.

      - That's not your job, Y/N. C'mon, you're gonna have a PhD in no time and then you'll actually have to go in the real world and get a real job.

      - What is that supposed to mean, Christopher?

      - Barnes has you playing housewife. Face it, you look after his kid, you cook, you do laundry. You're basically his wife without the sex. It's a waste of your potential.

      - So you're saying being a housewife is a waste of potential?

      - That's not what I meant. I'm saying you could do more than adhere to traditional stereotypes of your gender just so you can make a paycheck.

      - Just so I can make a pay check? Christopher, while you may have been born with a goddamn gold spoon in your mouth, I wasn't. Do you know how expensive rent is in New York? You think I could afford even to breathe here solely on my stipend? No! That job you think is so below me is the only reason why I have a roof over my head and don't have to worry if my monthly stipend will cover my expenses or if my manager will mind me skipping a day of work to focus on my studies. Besides, I'll be damned if I'll take feminist theories from a trust fund man baby. - she got out of bed, grabbing her shoes and her dress.

      - C'mon, Y/N, I'm just trying to help you. I want you to be able to do what you enjoy. You're telling me looking after a two year old is what you envision as career?

      - I have career ambitions. I know where I'm going, I don't need your help.

      - You don't even know if you're passing your PhD viva. - he said which made Y/N snap her head to look at him. - Maybe if you spent more time at school instead of being at Barnes even beckoning call, you'll have more certainty is what I mean.

      - Fuck you, Christopher!

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @fedeffy @abitofblues

[chiefdirector]

hello, can you write an imagine with Dr. Neil Melendez using prompts C & P from fluff? I love your writing, thank youu 🛐🛐🛐

Anaesthesia | Neil Melendez | The Good Doctor

Doctors, especially surgeons, know the side effects of surgeries like the back of their hands; they have too. The effects of anaesthesia are also commonly known, however they are not usually witnessed or enjoyed by the operating surgeon or anyone on their surgical staff. They tended to check in with the patient thoroughly after the majority of the medication had worn off and had been replaced with morphine.

It had been a while since Neil had experienced it first hand, it was something he swore to himself that he would change. In the beginning he had been worried when (y/n) had to go in for emergency surgery, their appendix had burst. Now, he couldn't help himself from giggling at them whilst encouraging their drug induced antics.

"You're really pretty, you know that right?" They slurred, trying to maintain eye contact with him.

Neil smiled. "Thank you, Dr. (l/n)."

"It is very, very, very, important to me that you know that." They watched as he just laughed alongside them as they continued their rambling. "I don't feel normal."

His smiled dropped.

"`What doesn't feel normal; what's wrong?"

(y/n) pondered his question for a moment, letting the silence thickly drag in the air. They didn't understand the gravity of their declaration and the million thoughts that were rushing through Neil's head. What if the surgery had gone wrong? What if they were experiencing complications and they had to go back under? What if they-?

"I know what it is."

Melendez looked up expectantly.

"I'm cold, I need cuddles."

"Cuddles?" he ask incredulously. (y/n) just nodded their head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. At this, his worried seem to vanish in a flash and he moved so he could position himself at (y/n)'s side. "Well, who am I do deny a patient."

Masterlist

[hwaightme]

Use me (part 1)

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR HALAZIA'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

🌌 pairing: nonidol!mingi x afab!reader 🌌 genre: smut, angst, emotions 🌌 summary: You had a routine. Every Friday night, you would meet with your friends to hit the clubs, looking for fun. It was easy, it was emotionless, it was carefree. But what will happen when your usual wingmen are not around, and you only have your shy friend, Song Mingi to keep you company under the neon lights? 🌌 wordcount: 9.7k 🌌 warnings/tags: language, alcohol, intoxication, indications of past bad relationship experiences, not believing in love, emotional suppression, some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you... 🌌 taglist: @layzfeelit @honey-lemon-goose here's the drop 🌌 a/n: Hello there! This is my first attempt at smut, so please do be warned. Hope you enjoy, MINORS DNI, nsfw tags and content under the cut. (note: song referenced is BTBT by B.I)

🌌 nsfw tags: sub!mingi, dom!reader, mingi is a pretty princess, pet names, degradation(mingi receiving), cunnilingus, protection IS USED, one night stand energy, mistress, a lot of dirty talk, teasing, denial, overstimulation.

You were the centre of the universe. A modern-day Venus, swaying your delicious hips in time to the music, arms in the air spelling seduction. The earth-shattering bass was resetting your intoxicated heart like a defibrillator. The kaleidoscopic haze was surrounding you and embracing you like the sweetest hit of anaesthesia right before you went under. Nothing existed except you and the gazes that were scanning you, devouring every inch of your body as you made the dance floor your bitch once again.

It was all but a blur, just how you liked it.

The neon was your weekly escape, something of a routine that you had established with a couple of your closest friends: Wooyoung and San. You three were the lives of any party, igniting the atmosphere and not letting the scalding hot flame die out until you said so. And even then, in the hearts of all those lucky enough to witness your miraculous, dizzying passion would linger the burning remains of an unforgettable night.

Over time, your trio had established ground rules and fool-proof strategies for how to get the most out of any night out. From the elaborate preparations, dressing to the elegant elevens but ready to offer just the right amount of sleaze if need be. To the selections of drinks that give just the right buzz without letting you lose your head. To your personal favourite – the complex tango of aiding one another to capture the next beauty and wring their everything dry until they knew nothing except you, Wooyoung or San. All to experience the satisfaction of hearing another heart break the next morning.

This was your idea of love – a hit every Friday night, a fuck with no strings attached. If what drove them wild was for you to call them your beloved - you did not care. Things said in the night died a small death and turned to ghosts in the morning. Remaining in the afterglow. At least you did not have to remember their name. Their bodies also faded from your memory quickly enough. So, you came back, again, and again. In search of a wondrous, lust-filled temporary high.

It was the same tonight. Same club, same throngs of bodies glistening in sweat under the strobe lights, just belonging to different people. The DJ had recognised you, so he changed the set to play a couple more of your favourite songs. His wolfish gaze revealing a lot more than he wanted. Oh, how simple all these people were. And how easy they were to wrap around your finger. If only you had the same drive today. But San’s girlfriend, well now ex-girlfriend, decided that today, of all days of the week, was just right to break up with him, and Wooyoung being his roommate could not leave the blubbering dejected mess alone.

No amount of convincing could coax the two out of hiding in their newly renamed ‘bachelor’ pad. Not wanting to let the two buzzkills completely destroy your energy, you still tugged on your best dress, and strutted in, head held high, hair in captivating locks. There was something truly devilish about you, and you were normally not afraid to use it to your advantage. But there was something different about tonight. Probably because you had to settle for the company of another one of your friends. Someone a lot more demure, for the lack of a better word.

Even though it was a six-foot-tall man with a toned physique and the most attractive hands that you were talking about, you could not help but think of him as a pretty little princess. He was just so untainted, so harmless and prey-like. You could feel his nervousness whenever you approached. His fluttering eyelashes, a quick, shy bite of the lip as he attempted to conjure up a response to whatever you asked. This was Song Mingi. A friend who you had no idea how you made, and why he stuck around still.

He had just appeared one day, an acquaintance you had met through one of those closest to you back in university. Funnily enough, it was the mutual friend that you had ceased to speak to. Mingi was doing a different major, had a different lifestyle, behaved differently, even interpreted things differently, but he had been accepted into the group, nonetheless. Probably because one of your friends had an undeniable thirst for him. Not that he had ever noticed though.

Mingi had always been like that. A gentle creature. A ball of cuteness. If your whole friend group had ever sat together, it was always as though there was one soft, fluffy cloud amidst hurricanes, tornados and thunderstorms. Not a single drop of rain on anyone’s parade. He had the desire to please, and would always volunteer to do errands for others, even if it was so far out of his way it was foolish to do so.

He had stopped once you had explained to him that others were using him. Including your own friends. You had pointed out that he had the power to refuse, and that they were not going to admonish him, as a matter of fact, they would not particularly care. Mingi had taken your words as gospel, and since then, had taken to treating you like his saviour of sorts. Or at least that was how you had initially seen it.

First thing he had done for you after you had merely pointed out the obvious was gotten you your go-to order at the café near campus. How he knew or had found out – you never managed to pry out of him. Then there had been the ‘accidental’ (read: intentional, because Mingi looked like he had been loitering in that corridor for a weirdly long time) run ins during your transits from one lecture hall to another, so that he could walk with you to your class.

The attention had been a bit much at first, but you had grown to accept it as usual ‘Mingi behaviour’. After all, he was the princess, the fluffy cloud, the ray of sunshine. That had to be just how he was. And as such, you had never taken him seriously. A couple of your friends had pointed out that maybe he was trying to make advances, but you shut that down rapidly by reminding them that you had no desire to love, nor could you see anyone wanting to love you.

You had never seen that side of your life be so peachy. It was almost as if you had been born into heartbreak and were nurtured by it. The antithesis to love was where you had comfortably resided for so long, and only stepped out to reach for comrades in misery. That was how you had found your people. Your chaos. These amazing idiots with whom you could share everything, and they would accept you for the idiot that you were. And having someone from the other side, from so-called ‘paradise’, trying to trace your steps and meet you halfway – it felt wrong. It was wrong. It was not what you had written out for yourself in your own blood and conviction after you had seen and felt too much. You made a decision and turned it into an aspect of your identity. Like some people were awfully co-dependent, or mentioned their significant other in every sentence, you were proudly solo. Unaffected by that nonsense.

It was not meant for you, that whole ‘written in the stars’, sappy romance, soulmates bullshit. All of that was mere theory. A concept invented by some people who had no idea how reality worked. Your reality was all about giving into carnal pleasures if you needed to relieve some stress or craved some intimacy. The emotional satisfaction came from being with your crew. Your collection of people who were ride or die. As time had shown, even that could not last forever. At least you still had San and Wooyoung. The two who had you had instantly clicked with.

The two who were currently sitting at home, with San probably watching some guilty pleasure drama and sobbing into a plushie while Wooyoung had likely made his killer dakgaejang for the ultimate comfort. Thereby officially abandoning you and leaving you to your own devices. Well, almost. Tonight had to be the night when you had all agreed to invite Mingi along after a few months of his stagnancy in that department. Your trio wanted to show him how to unwind and have a good time. But now that responsibility fell solely to you, and you could not help but feel a little awkward. No matter how hard you tried, you could not get the man to loosen up. And in turn, he was ruining all plans you had in finding yourself a little fun.

With the glares he inadvertently sent every potential midnight suitor who approached you, Mingi was acting every bit a pouting, jealous boyfriend. This had only gotten worse after he had a couple of drinks. His eyes were only ever following you. Tracing your curves as you grinded against yet another ‘possibility’, trying to see where it could go. But that stare. It would not leave neither your body, nor your consciousness. From your position on the dance floor, you could only barely make out his form, leaning, arms crossed, against a black pillar. But it seemed that no matter what you did, Mingi would still find you. Much like he had done in the past and acted like your loyal puppy. A pesky little sunray.

With no success after a total of five songs, you decided to retire to the side lines and take a breather. Sauntering over to Mingi, you pointed at his hand, and received your drink that he had been keeping safe. A refreshing dilution of whatever the beverage was supposed to be. After taking a greedy sip, you spotted a more secluded seating area in one of the corners of the venue, which had not been reserved nor was occupied, and strode on over before anyone had the same idea as you. You did not need to check if Mingi was behind you. The only answer, ever, was yes.

Crash landing onto one of the couches, nearly spilling what you had left of the liquid nonsense, you gave a little yawn. It was a little too early for you to be getting bored, but without Woo and San to be the two devils on your shoulders and wingman collaborators, you were contemplating calling it a night and just leaving. If Mingi wanted to stay for a little longer he could: he was a big boy who could go clubbing on his own. But to you, the past couple of hours have been a continuous mission failed.

“Hey, if you are feeling tired, we could-”

That choice of pronoun, ‘we’, rubbed you the wrong way. You did not need this ‘we’ right now. You needed another someone, anyone to make that ‘we’ happen.

“Nah, don’t worry about me I just needed to sit down for a second. All that dancing and not taking a break? That’s how you know a person is on something.” You gestured at the dance floor again to emphasise your point.

From a distance, it really did look like an unstoppable, pulsating jelly fish that emanated neon fluorescence. Your natural habitat. Your rhythm. Fuck it. You were going back. You did not want to be in the company of this cutesy dullard. At least not right now. In a few quick moves, Mingi was left standing alone by the couches, as you clicked your heels across to the dance floor, joining the chaos once more.

How breath-taking you looked. Mingi was stunned as your lithe form glided past him, in that little black dress that beautifully hugged your figure. You were royalty under the moonlight. A seductress out on the prowl, unknowingly having laid claim on his soul long before you had ever thought you could. Mingi had never understood how he had fallen so hard for you, but this was an abyss that he would never be able to get out of, as every waking day gave him a new reason to love you.

He had been the only one out of his school to go to the university that he did, and since it was a distance away from the family home, he had to move, live alone, work alone, sit alone. There had been some positive aspects to that lifestyle, like he had all the time in the world to study, but the loneliness began eating away at him, gnawing into his anxieties until it had become almost unbearable. That was when he had reached out to someone he knew had good social networks in the university, and in a matter of weeks had found himself a group to be in. Your group, to be more specific. Everyone had been welcoming, but he had convinced himself that he could not be anything except a burden, and as such he had turned into something reminiscent of a butler. A boy at beck and call, just because he wanted to have friends and thought he had to continuously prove himself worthy. It was exhausting, but once he had started, it was near impossible to stop. People got used to good things far too quickly.

But then, there was you. An angel who had taken him by the hand and led him out of the maze of his own making. The only one who had stepped in. The one who had shown they cared. At first, he just wanted to show you his gratitude and help you out as best as he could in return for your gesture, but the more time he spent with you, the more he found out about you, the more he ended up wanting everything to do with you. Sure, you had presented yourself as being above feelings, he knew that, but he was not bothered by it. It was your comfort that mattered to Mingi. If that meant keeping everyone besides a select few friends at arm’s length, then so be it. At least it was your arm, and you were not refusing his company entirely.

That was how he had ended up being a sort of satellite to your system. A little moon orbiting around you while you and your friends were a galaxy, and order of planets. It was clear that the group was not as impressive as it had been, and that he was still the odd one out, nevertheless, social outings were still being organised, and he could sometimes attend them. His heart had swelled when you, Wooyoung and San had reached out to him with an invite to a night club. And now, even more so that the duo could not make it, albeit for an upsetting reason.

Mingi knew why you went to this club in particular. It had a good crowd, quite a few ‘lookers’, and people did not hesitate to spend their money. You had frequented it enough times for you to be very amiable towards nearly all staff, even recognising that one of the barmen was a new hire and wishing him luck. You were so amazingly attentive, and your ‘focus face’ had not changed at all since Mingi had known you. Forever his first love that never seized to threaten to break out of his chest in a burst of pent-up affection.

Of course, there was another reason why you were here, one that did not sit quite as well with him and was why he was rather sulky and unable to appease you in being more carefree and becoming one with the heavy beat that was roaring over him. And it was that you had your focus trained on others. Studying man after man for their ‘potential’, checking their energy or whatever it was that you could feel through their trousers. You were a dangerous balance of audacious and coquettish, able to physically entice and mentally capture.

But the disgusting, lascivious leers that those you tested the waters with sent you, and them groping your ass, snaking their arms around your waste, or openly palming their groin as they approached you was about to make Mingi go insane. Was this the kind of treatment you suffered through every single Friday night just to satisfy your own needs? Did you have to listen to drunkards call you vile names just for a night of passion? He could not comprehend how anyone could ever deserve it just because they wanted something special.

Fuck it. He could not stand you being attacked in that way anymore. He needed to join you on the dance floor before this could continue. Not for one second could he believe that you were enjoying this. It was dangerous. It was degrading. It was… it was not the you that had been his friend. It was the you that had evoked a different kind of desire within him. An insatiable want for you, and you alone. As he stalked forwards, closer to the centre where you were currently swaying to the more melodic interlude of rhythm and blues as a man clearly double your age was trying to woo you, trying to roam your body with his grimy hands. One look to the left and there was another, a woman who looked to be in her early thirties, unabashedly looking you up and down, likely having undressed you a thousand times in her mind. You were unstoppable, but Mingi desperately wanted to try. So, he silenced his mind’s protests, tuning into a darker hedonism, and swept you away from where you had been dancing and pushing you deeper into the mass, making both of you disappear into its music-enchanted waves.

You were astonished at your friend’s bout of bravery. Raising an eyebrow in suspicion, you studied him as he tried his best to guide you in the dance, however failing to do so without a newbie’s rigidity. A smile crept onto your face as you placed both of your hands on his upper arms, taking note of the well-sculpted muscle concealed by his shirt, and slid them down, nice and slow until you could guide Mingi to rest his own hands right on your waist. Now tonight was getting interesting. Finally. Without as much as a one word exchange you two continued indulging in the trance, and as the song changed, and changed again, time allowed the two of you to completely sink into the addictive feeling.

When my eyes are on you

숨 막힐듯한 전율

Oh, you know you get me loose

Make me go 비틀비틀

It was a push and pull. You wanted to take Mingi to the limit. Since he finally wanted to communicate with your senses, you wanted to show him all that you could do, what this atmosphere could do. The electricity between you and him was undeniable, and as you got more confident in one another’s presence you had fallen into a shared rhythm, taking every breath together, translating every beat into body language.

A dance floor made for two

달이 부르는 선율

Oh, it's only me and you

Make me go 비틀비틀

This ray of sunshine called Song Mingi was glinting in a much more tantalising manner than usual. All that following you around did appear to do some good at least – he could match you well. Almost frighteningly well. His movements were smooth, and he was very light on his feet. And most importantly, he was fully immersed in being your dance partner, to the extent that a club had the space for and considered as paired dancing. At some point during the song, his gentle grasp on your hips had become more needy, and he transferred it to your hips, while still keeping time to the song. As he pushed you closer to him, you could feel heat rolling off his body, and spot a single bead of sweat making its way down the side of his face.

Without thinking about it much you moved to swipe it away, which made Mingi stiffen and falter. He responded to your touch, leaning his head in which you took to be a sign that at least you would have a good night in the club. He was not going to go anywhere and was at your mercy. Very loyal. And all over you. You did have to admit, that once he had dropped the observation game and acted, he was turning out to be a lot more of an exciting person to have around. On top of that, you were getting your fill of more personalised attention, with an enviable man as your companion.

Again, the song changed to a slowed rhythm and blues piece, and both of you took it as a sign to get even closer. Your arms were now draped over his shoulders and loosely crossed behind his neck, and your lower bodies were mere centimetres apart. The previous energetic sequence was all gone, replaced instead with an unmistakeable burning. As your orbs met his in a near-showdown fashion, you could see Mingi’s irrefutable change in demeanour. How did you not consider this man before? This other Mingi? It was like you were meeting somebody for the first time. Somebody who you would not mind making your body.

Your breath was becoming his breath as he inched closer and closer to you, so tentative as though he was asking permission for every tiny movement. He halted right when your noses were touching, and so dangerously close you could almost taste him.

Mingi was going into overdrive. His everything, you, were right within reach, and yet your soul was nowhere to be felt. You were a succubus, tempting him by the way you were toying with his hair, so carelessly, like you did not know what you were doing to him. Tempting him by the kittenish expression you wore, your half-lidded eyes hinting at a future that he had only dreamt of with you. His sinful fantasies about you had all awakened; episodes that he had drafted in solitude wanting to be re-enacted. How he yearned for your touch. For him to be able to melt into you and give himself up. Be only yours. Forever. So, you did not ever have to do what you had been doing all this time before tonight. He let out a shaky breath, affected by the lust that was already clouding his vision. Voice low, and a little hoarse, Mingi momentarily shut his eyes and whispered right against your cheek:

“Use me.”

You tried to step back a little, surprised at Mingi’s sudden proposition. But he would not let go, instead pressing you flush against his frame. You could now feel that he was not kidding, his blooming arousal greeting you through the layers of fabric. Because you had not responded to him, nor showed any signs of being interested, the notes of roughness in his tone disappeared entirely, leaving behind something closer to a whimper:

“Y/N… please. Use me. You… you don’t need anybody else. Can just use me.”

In awe, you were staring at Mingi. Now this was something you had never predicted for this Friday night. In your musings, you had bet that by now, you would have been in your own bed, watching a music show and drifting off to sleep. Not about to make a decision that could change the course of your life while in a not so lucid state of mind.

“Then tell me, darling, how do you want me to use you?” you asked back, hearing a sharp and shallow gasp from Mingi. He was unwinding right in your hands, and you had barely done anything.

“I’d rather show you, Y/N, if you will let me.” He mumbled, beginning to trace your jawline with soft, feathery kisses.

“And I’d rather bend you to my will.” The retort sent a shiver down his spine, and he ceased to pepper you with the manifestation of his desirous state. “After you take me to your place.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I could get used to this. Lead the way, darling. Your place.”

With one arm wrapped around your waist, tracing abstract patterns on your dress, and the other being used as a wedge to part the tightly knit bodies, Mingi immediately answered to your request. He had not changed his positioning as he flagged down a taxi, and continued holding onto you, although now it was your hand in his, for the duration of the drive to his home. Whilst the tiny droplets of possessiveness masked most of Mingi’s disposition, there was an endearing aspect to it. In some ways, Mingi was like a little kid who had just discovered something extraordinary and was ready to tie himself to it to ensure that it did not disappear. Even with his present actions unveiling nothing but an unprecedented lust and unbreakable certitude, Mingi still had remnants of his day-time self clinging onto him. Which was the first thing you focused on ripping way once he had finished fumbling with the keys to his front door.

You were tightly bound in each other’s arms. The air was thick with anticipation while Mingi closed the door with his foot and haphazardly threw off his shoes. You followed suit, and upon having done so, observed your ‘human offering’. You could see that he was not sure in how to proceed, having stopped midway through the entryway corridor, but the grip he had was on the contrary, more possessive. If he wanted to be used so badly, then he would not mind if you ruined him.

A harsh pull of the shirt collar and a stifled mention of your name later, your red-tinted lips locked in with his in a perfect harmony. In that moment, he was like your oasis, a discovery of a paradise after eons of suffering, a salve to your numerous wounds. The kiss swiftly transformed from the first phase of introductory exploration, luxuriating in the delectable tension, to a faster and more fervent collision of sexual ardour.

He was so malleable in your hands, giving into your control and honouring it with the unholy groans that were building up in his throat. To think that you had such an effect on someone and so quickly! It sparked a stronger desire to make him unravel and proudly share with you just how good, how satiated you made him feel. You wanted to hear him submit to you and follow your laws.

As you toyed with the hem of his trousers, pulling at the belt and letting your noticeably colder fingers glide against his skin, you elicited a growl from Mingi, who broke away from your lips to trail kisses down your neck and stopped right at the base, nuzzling into it and masking his responsive eagerness.

“Bed… room…” his demand came across more as a suggestion due to his feeble tone, but you felt nice, for now, and obliged, and let him take the lead in your tango across the living space and through the half-open door straight across from where you had been.

You were illuminated only by the moon and the streetlights that shone through the window, leaving you standing in an ethereal glow. Shadows that fell across Mingi’s face as he pulled away from you, his breathing ragged, only amplified the near-animalistic want etched onto him, another mark of his submission to you. He did not dare make a single move, again, standing in wait. An obedient boy, letting you turn his back to the bed, pushing him down until he was sat on its edge. You straddled him, your dress riding up to reveal the panties of a lacy lingerie set, and languidly grinded against him a couple of times to drive up his desire. He stifled a moan by biting his swollen bottom lip in an attempt to hide his craving for you, but that bashfulness was not on your agenda.

Motivated by his shallow pants, you slid your hands with fingers spread far apart under his white, now crumpled shirt, sliding them lazily up his torso, feeling for every ripple, every response to you. You stopped at his chest, paying particular attention to his nipples as you stimulated them, repeatedly making circular motions with your index fingers and pinching them until you saw Mingi tilt his head back a little and make haste to adjust his hold on you, moving to your voluptuous ass. Pushing himself against you he tried to chase his own high, giving into the first gifts bestowed upon him in the form of your caresses. But not so fast, you were not going to let him have so much fun so early on. Not when he had pledged to listen to you. To let him be your toy for the night. With a devilish smirk, you abruptly stopped, making Mingi’s eyes shoot wide open, and dart across your features. The nervousness did little to make you merciful, for instead you found you took pleasure in taking away what others enjoyed. He was confused, unable to read your expression. Just as he was opening his mouth, still decorated with your sweet saliva, you used his lowered guard against him and toppled him backwards. You took him by the wrists and pressed them by his head, right into the disturbed sheets. He looked so pretty under you. Pretty little princess. Those doe eyes, searching for an answer from you. A command. Anything.

“Did you not say I could use you, hm, darling? And now what do you think you are doing?” you purred, hovering over him.

Mingi let out a desperate hum and tried to buck up his hips against you. You knew that he could overpower you at any moment. And that made your present power of him that much sweeter. You held your ground and ignored the heat rising in your core. When he denied you a response, you removed your hold from one of his wrists, instead taking his chin and gripping it to make him see only you through his daze.

“I will repeat, what the fuck do you think you are doing, huh?” you were centimetres away, hissing the question right into his ear before softly exhaling, leaving a few kisses and cautiously biting the lobe. Mingi’s chest rose and fell sharply as he took in the sensation.

“I… I want you. I want you so bad, Y/N. Please.” He begged, letting his free hand rise to try hooking the strap of your dress, but before he could slide it down your shoulder, you switched your position again, now no longer holding him down, but tearing his shirt apart to feast your eyes.

“And where did your obedience go, darling? Do you think you deserve what you want?” you applied pressure on his clothed member, mocking how you could so easily ride him.

“I… sorry, Y/N, I cannot think, I-”

“Shut up. You said to use you. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Yours, Y/N I am yours-”

“That is mistress to you, you little bitch.” You snapped, back to peering into his clouded orbs. On instinct, you moved to give his throat some ‘affection’, applying light pressure on either side as you continued: “Pretending to be so innocent, whoring yourself out to me. I bet this is what you do on the daily, batting your eyelashes looking all pretty and in a matter of minutes becoming a lascivious little slut.”

“Y/N-” he yelped, but you were not having that kind of disrespect, so you tightened your rip and moved one hand behind you to fish for his belt.

“It’s mistress, darling.” You uttered, an ominous darkness dripping from your words. Mingi shuddered as he felt you masterfully removing the pesky accessory, discarding it with one throw.

“Okay, m-mistress, ah fuck…” he moaned as you let go of his throat and fully exposed his throbbing member, taking it in one hand and rubbing its tip with a thumb. He desperately wanted to see how you unwounded him, but you remained sat right on his pelvis, hiding your act with your body.

“Is this what you want, darling? Me pleasuring you? Me taking you apart with my touch?”

“Ah- yes! Yes, mistress!”

“What a good boy, see it was not so hard to learn. Now tell me how far do you want to go.” You broke your act just a little, to check if Mingi was still on board. You had no idea of his experience, nor of his boundaries, so it was a matter of respect.

“All… all the way… Y/N, sorry, mistress.”

“Good. Then I expect you to follow my every command. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good little fuck toy.” You praised, sliding your hand down his dick, spreading his precum down the length and giving him one pump, only to fully remove yourself from his body and sit on your knees by his side. You traced his abdomen as you pondered out loud, amused at his dedication – he was not moving a single inch, wrapped up in your presence.

“I have been far too generous, don’t you think? Giving you all the pleasure, whilst you are making a mess and not thanking me for all I have done. Filthy.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much, mistress.”

“For what?”

“For treating me so well. For making me feel so good-”

“Oh, you eager little slut, such a pleaser. Sweet talking your way into getting some more. How greedy!” you laughed, crawling closer to his head and running your fingers through his locks. “I will need a lot more than that to forgive you for being so demanding.”

“Anything.” He answered airily.

“Then make me come with that mouth of yours. Show me what your tongue can really do.”

“Yes, please, mistress.”

“Tsk-tsk, how cute. Then on your knees, darling right there. In front of the bed. So I can see just how delightful you look worshipping my cunt.”

In a matter of seconds, he was making his way off the bed, and simultaneously discarding the rest of his clothing that you had unbuttoned. Stark naked, he dropped to the ground, just as you had commanded him to. The moon illuminated him once more. A lustful little angel.

You took your time in removing your dress, feigning a lack of want. As if you were doing Mingi a favour by being here, and by letting him eat you out. You wanted to make it a point that your orgasm was his highest reward, and that he better get used to it quickly if he wanted to be used by you. Mingi gaped at you as you were left in your bra and panties, the article now leaving barely anything to the imagination. On all fours, you crawled towards him, every bit a dangerous wildcat ready to pounce. Before taking a comfortable seat for your pleasure, you cupped his chin once more and pulled him into a sultry kiss, tilting your head to seek entrance with your tongue.

Mingi gripped the sheets and tried to rise to pull you closer into him, but upon seeing the too positive response, you sat right back, and slid your legs down into position. You rested your weight on one arm, while the other absent-mindedly played with Mingi’s hair as he placed his hands on your thighs, and began to take your panties off. For a couple of seconds, you played along, sitting up slightly so that the material could escape from under you, but just as he thought he had it all in his power, you stopped him by yanking him to attention by the hair.

“Now, not so fast, did I say I wanted to see what your hands could do?”

“No, mistress.”

“Exactly. Use your mouth, pretty boy.” He obliged, even going so far as to put his hands behind his back. He took the material between his teeth, and worked at it, little by little, downwards, until it appeared as though he was bowing to you, right at your feet. In one final move, Mingi tugged them off you, and rose up once more, an entertaining look of pride on his features.

You committed each step of this intimate sequence to memory and continued watching the show that he was putting on for you. The throw of the panties away from him with a move of the head, his gaze trailing down your body, his kitten-like nudges to your thighs, pleading you to spread them further apart. Not wanting to wait any longer, you did as much, and wriggled yourself forwards a tiny bit more.

As he kissed your clit and ran his hot tongue between your already soaked folds, you realised just how riled up you were. He would do anything for you, and that turned you on unbelievably. You tightened your jaw and shut your mouth to suppress any sound as you let your head fall back a little, your hair streaming down behind you in a waterfall. He was lapping up your nectar like a parched man, not leaving a single bit behind. With a flick, he switched his attention back to your aroused bud, and began to circle it with his tongue, occasionally pursing his lips to give the sensitive blossom intemperate sucks.

It was challenging to hold back any more of your sinful moans as he returned to your wet hole, penetrating it with his tongue and twisting in an unrepeatable motion. You felt your core begin to tighten, as a high was alerting you of its imminence. You tugged gently at Mingi’s soft hair and praised him for being such a good little boy, such a good darling, for fucking you so good with his tongue.

His delighted hums sent a vibration against your dripping cunt, and you groaned in pleasure, only making Mingi pick up his pace. His tongue was moving in and out, gliding against your folds and playing with your clit. As he buried his face in your pussy, wanting nothing more than to drown in your juices, your climax was fast approaching. As your breaths turned shallower by the second, and you pressed Mingi’s head right against you, he took the signal and gave your clit one final lick and curled his tongue upwards, right inside your hole. He was beckoning you, begging you to cum for him.

“Ah fuck, Mingi I-” his name slipped out of your mouth as you gave into the awaited orgasm, shuddering at the unforgettable feeling. He reacted to your exclamation with unexpected vigour, kissing your sex and hastily drinking in your release. This further stimulated you as you let go of him and leaned back onto your elbows, to not fully collapse.

Taking deep breaths in, you composed yourself and returned from your high. You glanced at Mingi, whose lips were glistening with your wetness. He dared to give you a shy smile after noticing your observation, like he was awaiting more praise for his hard work.

“What a good little slut my pretty boy is. Making mistress really happy.” It was hard to keep your voice steady, but you tried your best, seeing as you had to maintain dominance.

“And I am so happy too mistress. Thank you… can I ask something?” he inquired, as you rose onto your knees again and unclasped your bra, making him lose track of his thoughts for a moment.

“Go on ahead.” You enjoyed when men scrutinised your so hungrily. How your shapely breasts managed to make them forgive and forget anything you wanted them to. As you watched Mingi swallow some spit, eyes trained on your chest, you began to knead them for full effect, “you were saying?”

“Oh… I… I liked when… when you called me by my name… mistress…” he forced out, rising up onto his feet as you motioned for him to do so with your index finger. Now this was problematic. You never liked using your temporary lovers’ names during sex, as you felt it to be a little too personal. Yes, there had been times when it slipped, but Mingi had been the only one to take notice and express his liking of the fact.

“Well, one time’s enough baby boy. You need to work harder for me, you hear me?” you turned the game around, evading the possibility of him asking you to stop with the pet names and degradation. After what looked to be a flash of disappointment, Mingi returned to his obedient state and mumbled a low ‘yes mistress’.

You commanded that he lied down, just as he had before, his member now completely in the air and almost unbearably hard. You moved to sit right before it, your legs spread and straddling his thighs, pussy just within reach. But not just yet. You had a little more you wanted to do; you wanted to return the favour – you were just that nice.

Mingi was in a state of pure bliss as you spat on his cock and rubbed the viscous liquid over it. It was only a matter of moments before you heard him emit a low, husky moan. He cursed at the feeling, eyes rolling back a little as he gave into you, again. It was almost more pleasurable watching him plead for you to go faster than satisfying yourself. How his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink when you played with his tip. How he shivered when you decided to give his dick a blow of cold air, making Mingi’s mind go into a frenzy. He wanted you to take him whole, bucking up his hips as he noticed you moving closer, but that only made him receive a slap on his abused member, and a sharp command:

“Princess. I make the rules here. And if for one second you think that I am going to let your whored out dick touch my lips, I will not hesitate to punish you until you can’t walk.” You threatened, and continued pumping rhythmically as you heard a series of melodic whines in response.

He was so easy to read. Spread on the palm of your hand, a simple, innocent Song Mingi. So, you knew exactly when to cut his pleasure short, abruptly recoiling and removing your legs to be positioned to his right. You observed his pulsing cock as Mingi cried out in frustration, moaning for you to continue, just a little bit longer.

“Silence, darling. I am bored again, and I think you will like what I am planning.” You explained, twisting at the waist to reach for your handbag that you had thrown in the direction of the side table in the corner.

Upon fishing out a condom and unrolling it on Mingi’s member, you thanked your lucky stars that it was the right size. The friction made him tense up again, and you chuckled. So sensitive. So malleable. All yours to use for the night.

“Are you ready, darling?” you threw the question out in a manner similar to that of asking about someone’s day. Like this really meant nothing to you. Even though your core was pleading for you to hurry up.

“Yes, mistre- ah!” he could not finish his answer as you directed his cock right outside your entrance, and eased it in.

As you took Mingi’s whole length, you put your hands on his abdomen, and peered over, glazed over from the sensation of him filling you up, against your walls in all the right places. You needed a moment to get used to it, as the impossibly ideal match left you on the verge of sanity. The heat of your pussy, and its clenching as you wiggled a little to get your positioning just right was making Mingi see stars, detuning from any reason or logic that he may have had left. Now, there was only you and him. Bound by the night.

You commenced your ritual. The sensual rise and fall of your body as you engulfed him more and more with every move. His whimper as you rocked forwards to glide over his length made you groan in response, and you leaned in to kiss him, still managing to taste your own climax on those soft lips. Before you could move away, he cupped your face and pulled you in closer, nearly making you lose balance – you had to move up and push into his chest.

He gazed right into your eyes. It felt like a fire, burning through you. You were comfortable with lust, and had seen it many times before, but there was something deeper, something more lethal behind Mingi’s carnality. But in your present disorientation, you dismissed it as a building thrill to accompany the knot that was steadily growing within you. It was impossible to look away as he powered through the numbing gratification and kept you level with him. The way he looked to be committing you to memory, your every freckle and blemish forming constellations in his universe, was almost frightening.

As your pussy began to pulsate with more frequency around his member, Mingi clenched his jaw and let out a low growl. Unable to stay at the same pace any longer, but still having to remain in his place, he began to toy with your breasts, just as you had done while undressing him, flicking the sensitive nubs until you dug your nails into his skin, feeling the stimulation totally collapsing on you.

“Y/N… please… please mistress… can I… can I please fuck you harder. I want to make you feel so good. As best as I can…” he pleaded, his wish being granted almost instantly as you guided him back to your hips.

Just as you had done while moving a little way up before, he rocked you in the same direction, his length almost completely escaping you, only to be sheathed back again. As he got more comfortable with you in his grasp, he picked up his speed, the gentleness being replaced by steady pounds. He rolled his body up against you, joining you in the race to a long-awaited high. Your moans were becoming uncontrollable as you struggled to stay on top of him, which led him to flip you over and take his position on the bed. You were too hazy to protest as he kissed your neck, your cheeks your nose, your lips, and intertwined his fingers with yours as he quickened his pace even more.

The sound of your juices being pumped again and again was making you and him lose your minds, feral from the sexual delight. You could not care less that he was now groaning out your name with every stroke, and that his face was showing nothing but adoration. You were using him, after all, he had to fit to your demands. And how he was now having his way with you was making you go mad with lust. Your cunt could not take this perfection much longer, and you could feel it cramp around Mingi’s dick, signifying your unravelling.

“Ah… shit… darling… I… I am about to...”

It was challenging to find the words, let alone form them into a coherent sentence as you cried out and came undone once more. You wrapped your arms around Mingi’s broad shoulders, bringing him to you as you muted your yelps with his kiss. He continued pumping into you until he, too, began to falter, and soon enough was moaning right into you. Both of you collapsed into one another, your sweaty bodies becoming one in the moonlight as he relished in the feeling of your ecstasy warming his cock.

Using the last of the strength he had left, Mingi pushed himself off you and rolled over onto his back. Breathing heavy, you focused on the settling silence of the room. As your eyes had fully adjusted to the semi-dim illumination, you could finally take your surroundings in, and when your inhalation and exhalation returned to a reasonable pace, you could make out the noises of traffic coming from outside. Barely there, but a reminder that you were not on cloud nine.

It was time to clean up. You were quick to regain your senses, thanks what could be considered as training, while the same could not be said about Mingi. He was practically motionless, only the beating of his heart and breathing giving away that he was a living, but totally spent man. You removed the condom, tying it in a knot and throwing it in a bin you spotted in the corner.

It was fairly easy to find the bathroom, with its entrance being right outside. As you dolled yourself up again, which was pretty much just wiping away some mascara and eyeliner that had decided to stain your cheeks, you wondered whether Mingi was already asleep, or if he was going to meet you in the shower. Not wanting to wait, you took the liberty of stepping in and dousing yourself in the cooling water, careful not to ruin your hair more than it had already been tousled by passion.

No change. You unceremoniously dried yourself using the closest available towel, throwing it into the laundry basket under the sink. Mingi was definitely asleep. Or just so exhausted that he could not function. You chuckled to yourself, your ego swelling – a common occurrence on a Friday night for you. But a little seedling of suspicion had risen within you as you turned of the light and stalked back to the room. The intimate eye contact, the kiss to ride out the climax, the hand holding. This was a little… personal. Much like his reaction to you calling out his name. You were using him, you repeated to yourself. He just offered himself to you. A loyal friend, right? Helping another in need, apologising for cockblocking you for nearly the entire evening. What the fuck were you even saying? There was something off about this. You could not place a finger on it. But Mingi, poor Mingi, answered all your doubts in one go.

As you stood by the bed, about to lie back down to let yourself drift into a peaceful rest before exiting the scene in the morning, he stirred. You chose to not make any further motions to join him. You glanced at his form, now curled up and reaching towards the side where you had been. This pretty little angel. Who had fallen for the night to satisfy your sin. Just as you were about to step towards the window to take in the scenery, Mingi mumbled out the one thing you were terrified of.

“I love you… Y/N…”

Your heart stopped, and you froze in place.

You knew he was irrational. You knew he was fucked out and on the verge of slumber. Hell, you heard others say this to you before in a post-coital bliss. But something about how those three little words fell out of Mingi’s bruised lips tore at you, and how he said your name was a direct shot through the heart. By barely doing anything, just giving into his nature, his mind’s calling, Mingi made it clear that this really was a truth that he had harbouring for so long, and that only at his most vulnerable, while with you, could he reveal it.

In those couple of seconds that it took to utter the sacred confession, he had unlocked his world, one that revolved around you. If the past did not exist, and this was all a movie, the audience could almost believe that this was all domestic. That in a matter of seconds you would be crawling back into bed, to someone with whom you were sharing your life, to fall asleep in his embrace.

And not to be scrambling for your belongings that had been strewn around on the floor, careful not to alert your ‘not so much a friend anymore’. You felt panic rise in your throat as you let out a couple of shaky breaths.

“I love you”

Was it that easy for him to say?

“I.”

“Love.”

“You.”

Why were you so affected by it? Why was this the first time that these words, in that order, did matter?

You sent one apologetic glance over your shoulder as you tip-toed out of the bedroom, sex still heavy in the air. Your high heels were still in your hands as you crept out of Mingi’s apartment, out of fear that he could awaken at any moment, and you would not be able to stay indifferent enough to brush his pleas away.

Would he say your name in the morning?

Would he miss you when he realised you were gone?

Shit. You were in deep trouble.

You pulled down your dress a little, flipped one of the straps that decided it was not the time to look neat, and shoved the tights that you had not had the time nor the courage to stay and put on into your handbag. There was no chance you were going to stay in that same space as him. The adoration was borderline suffocating. It was so pure. So… honest. It made you sick to your stomach, and you were not sure if it was from disgust or from butterflies.

This was supposed to be just like any other Friday. A satiation of basic human instincts. A moment that was meant to be erased and the space filled by somebody else. But you had committed a fatal error. And you were sure of it. You had foolishly chosen Mingi: the one person who could not comprehend, nor have ‘no strings’ with you. In fact, all strings that he had ever been bound by led only to you.

In retrospect, it was obvious. All the years you had known him, he was always on your team. That silly boy. In university, he had brought you medicine when you were sick. Followed you and your ‘gang’ of troublemakers around almost like a groupie would follow a rock band. Stayed up with you in the campus library just to keep you company as you crunched out some report.

And now, even when life had thrown peers around different cities and countries and your friend group had whittled down to a tight-knit squad, he was still there. Loyal to you. Satisfied even if it was just you rejecting him repeatedly, selecting man after man, sometimes right in front of him, to bring home for the damned Friday night. All because at least before that moment, he could spend some time with you.

What were you thinking, falling for the trap of accepting a lover’s self-sacrifice?

A true libertine, you had chosen the primrose path of dalliance to tread. It was only a matter of time before you had to pay for it in full, for there was nothing in the world that could fix Song Mingi’s heart of gold if it were to break.

You stumbled outside of his apartment building, finally remembering to tug on the heels as your bare feet hit the biting cold concrete. It was barely three in the morning. Much earlier than you had ever left a one-night-stand’s place before. But this was different. In every way it was really fucking different. You hobbled away, cursing yourself over and over as you fished out your nearly dead mobile phone out of your bag, searching for the number of the only one you could call when the apocalypse was upon you.

He picked up after the third ring, just as you were passing under a streetlight. The roads were completely deserted, the residential district wrapped up in a cosy blanket until the morning. Somnolent trees lining pathways and sidewalks were barely rocking, and the only sounds that filled the air were the rumbles of distant traffic.

“Yeah? Y/N? What happened? You normally don’t call-”

“Wooyoung. I fucked up. Really badly. I really, really, badly fucked up.” You felt tears beginning to well up and sting you, threatening to spill over at any moment. Your friend was so concerned about you, launching to try and comfort you. It made you think back to those damn words that had imprinted themselves in your mind. Replaying again and again.

“Wait, wait, what happened, hold on? Are you okay? Are you safe? Where are you? San and I are coming to get you right now-”

“I slept with Mingi.” You cut him off. You were no longer walking; your legs were barely supporting you anyways.

“WHAT?” silence on the line as you heard shuffling and hushed, indecipherable whispers. “So, by that do you mean like, uh… heavy petting and foreplay or-”

“Since when does SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE mean THIRD BASE in our vocabulary, Woo?” you yelled, though without much conviction – you sounded too choked up.

“Fair point… well was it worth it at least?” you were not surprised that Wooyoung would inquire after that even when you were on the verge of melting down right on him.

“Oh, for fucks sake, YES, yes it was good. Very good in fact. More than good.”

“Then hey, at least that’s a positive. Then why are you so distressed? I know he has eyes for you but you know, so do like seventy percent of the guys at work.”

“He said he loved me.” You forced out, attempting to regain some nonchalance.

“No way.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath.

“Yes way.

“Fu-u-uck… Okay Y/N where are you this needs some wine and a good game plan.” You heard the rattling of keys and rapid footsteps. You tried to imagine the layout of your friend’s pad. Anything to get you away from what you had just done.

“I am… you know what let me send you my live location.” You could not bring yourself to take a single step back, even though you had seen a street sign. Going back would mean getting closer to him.

“Cool, stay put,” Wooyoung ended your conversation, but before hanging up you could hear him shouting at San to ‘stop sulking over that bitch there is a real catastrophe happening out there’.

No better words to describe it.

You used Mingi.

While Mingi loved you.

[runariya]

My Beloved Villain (JJK) • Chapter 5

pairing: hero!Jungkook x villain!female reader genre: dark romance, gore, villain!AU, hero!AU, slow burn rating: MDNI, 18+ warnings: covering up of wounds, thoughts about past mud€r, awkward morning, lies, fluff, 700 in 3 Jungkook because I couldn't not write it, inner conflicts between good and bad, detailed description of inner autopsy, scalpel in thigh, blood, stitching without local anaesthesia, drinking, fluff, OC drops a hint to her dark side, Jungkook is oblivious in so many ways it physically hurts, smut, f!ngering, worshipping, oral (m. receiving), protected s€x, OC rides him (it's the way that you can ride~), pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 7.6K

a/n: I thought I'd upload tomorrow as a present for ✨ Jungkook Day ✨ but I’m going to be busy, so here’s the chapter a little early. It’s a bit of a treat, mostly fluff and smut, pushing the plot forward, so ENJOY! After this one, we’ll be spiralling fast and hard 🫢 Please don’t come at me!

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to med school are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • masterlist • 06

The next morning, you stand in your small shared bathroom that after all these years still feels too small, the kind of tight space that seems to crowd you when you’re already feeling a little claustrophobic. You’re staring into the mirror, eyes a little distant, trying to assess the damage from last night, trying to make sense of everything that happened in the darkness of night. The faint bathroom light flickers once, just as if it’s mimicking the wavering thoughts in your head, and you finally focus on yourself again. 

Your neck isn’t much of a problem, the slight pinkish bruise barely visible when the light isn’t catching just right, so masking it with some make up isn’t much of a problem. You can make it disappear entirely, almost like nothing happened. Almost. What does concern you however is the little cut on your swollen, puffy bottom lip. The skin is stretching tight over the small cut that’s stubborn in its defiance, refusing to be ignored. It’s not big, nor is it deep, but it’s prominent in the way it catches the light, just enough that someone standing close to you might notice. Someone like Jungkook.

Brushing teeth only added to the inflammation, which you gladly don’t feel, but will be adding to the problem of covering up. You curse softly under your breath, wondering how you’ll manage to keep it truly hidden, to dodge any questions about why your lips look like you’ve been punched in the face, what you actually have been.

You rummage through your cosmetics bag, hands shaking a little more than you’d like to admit as you pull out a small tube of liquid plaster, dapping it accurately on it so it’s somehow a smoother surface. The rich plum balm next, gliding over your lips, darkening the pink flesh until it matches the colour of the bruised skin perfectly. The cut disappears, camouflaged, and for a moment, you feel satisfied like you’ve won some small, meaningless victory over your reflection. The mask is in place, or maybe just good enough as is it.

You sigh deeply, letting the air out of your lungs as if it could take away the heaviness that has settled in your chest, but it doesn’t. You look at yourself once more, turning your head side to side, searching for flaws you might have missed. You look…normal, more or less. Tired, though. There’s no hiding the shadows beneath your eyes, the slight droop to your shoulders. You haven’t slept well. Not because of the kill itself—strangely enough, that part almost brought a sense of clarity, like you’d purged something toxic from your system with a detox diet—but because of Pulse. 

The memory of his eyes haunts you still, the way they were full of devastation, that strange sadness that clung to him, lingered in your thoughts like a stain in your favourite shirt you can’t scrub out for the life of you. He shouldn’t bother you this much. He shouldn’t. You’ve done worse last night, seen worse in your entire life. But there’s something about him that keeps gnawing at you, lodged in your mind, needles that are too deep to pull out, and it’s irritating in a way you can’t quite describe.

Why does he have this power over you? It’s irrational, maddening if you think about it long enough. You find yourself asking over and over again if you’ve met him before, if maybe, in some way, he isn’t a stranger at all. You can’t pinpoint it, but there’s something. Something in the way his eyes looked at you, something in the way his presence affects you even now, long after the night has ended. You hate it. You hate him for making you feel this way. It’s like there’s a vice wrapped around your chest, and every time you think of him, it tightens, constricting just a little more until you go wild.

But there’s no time to dwell on it now. You push the thoughts away with a forceful shove, leaving them scattered behind you like you did yesterday with him standing there. No, today is not the day to think about him or anything that happened last night. You’ve got classes to get to, and you’re definitely running late right now. You take one last glance at the mirror, nod to yourself, and step out of the bathroom, trying to ignore this irritating feeling that’s settled over your head.

But of course, as soon as you open the door, the universe decides to throw you another curveball. Jennie is standing there, right outside the bathroom, completely oblivious to the concept of modesty, wearing nothing but Taehyung’s oversized shirt. Your brain freezes for a second, and all you can do is blink, trying to process the scene in front of you. Jennie looks just as startled, her wide eyes locked on yours, frozen in place like a deer caught in headlights right before its doom. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” You mutter under your breath, the disbelief seeping out of your pores. This can’t be real. But it is, and the longer you stand there, the more awkward it becomes. Jennie doesn’t move. You don’t move. And then, because the universe apparently thinks this situation isn’t awkward enough already, Taehyung steps out of his room and stops dead in his tracks as well. His eyes flick from you to Jennie, then back to you, and you can see the exact moment his brain short-circuits.

It’s almost comical, the way the three of you are just standing there in this ridiculous triangle of shock and embarrassment. But then, you’re the first to break free from the spell. You grin, sidestepping Jennie and making a beeline for the front door. You toss a hand over your shoulder as you call back, “I didn’t see shit.” Your voice is light, teasing, and you can’t help but giggle as you slip out the door.

But of course, you did see something. And it’s enough to make you file this away for later, something to question Taehyung about when the time is right. You’ll have to sit him down and roast him properly for this—though, knowing yourself, the topic will eventually circle back to Jungkook, and how your friendship shifted too.

You’re walking down the usual pathway to your classes, when you spot Jungkook. He’s ahead of you, but even from a distance, you can tell something is off. He’s slouched, shoulders hunched forward, his usual confident stride replaced by something slower, heavier. Your heart skips a beat, but maybe you’re just imagining things, so, you jog the rest of the way to catch up to him.

“Kook! Wait!” you call out, breathless as you finally reach him. “You wouldn’t believe what I just walked in on!”

But the words die on your lips the moment you get a good look at him, and you’re painfully reminded that your first instinct is always right. He’s not the Jungkook you know. There’s something…different. His eyes are distant, unfocused, his expression hollow in a way that makes your stomach twist on itself, making the bright smile that had been on your face fade, replaced by a deepening worry as the seconds tick by.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You can see the sadness in his eyes, the exhaustion that drips from him like mud. It mirrors your own feelings, but his seem deeper, darker, like he’s sinking into something you can’t reach.

“Nothing,” he says, but the word is empty, devoid of meaning. “I might skip class today.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Skip class? You never skip class. Kook, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes are red, bloodshot, like he hasn’t slept in days, his muscles tense, coiled like a spring that’s ready to snap any minute. The unease inside you grows tenfold, spreading through your veins like wildfire. You replay yesterday’s date in your mind, sifting through every moment, every word spoken, every touch shared, searching for any clue, something that might explain his sudden shift. But all you can think of is that maybe, somehow, he regrets it. Maybe he regrets being with you, and the thought alone drowns you more than any ocean could.

“If it’s about yesterday,” you start, your voice hesitant, your thoughts stumbling over each other in their desperation to make sense of it all, “if you regret the date, we can still be friends, you know?”

For a moment, he’s completely still. Then, like a switch has been flipped, his whole demeanour changes to his usual self. His shoulders relax, his eyes lose some of that haunted distance, and he reaches out for you, pulling you into a tight embrace, squishing you against his firm pecs. His voice is firm when he speaks, simple and resolute. “No.”

“No?” you echo, stunned. You don’t know how to process the sudden shift, hell, even the last twenty-four hours.

“No,” he repeats, more gently this time. “It’s not about us, I promise.” His lips brush against your hair, his arms wrapped securely around you as if he’s trying to shield you from something you can’t see. “I want this. I want us.”

You feel yourself relax into him, the unease slowly seeping out of your body as naive relief floods in to take its place. “I want us too,” you murmur softly, leaning into his warmth even more.

Jungkook pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he gazes down at you, his eyes filled with something that feels so much like devotion it almost makes you tear up. “I forgot to ask you something,” he teases, his voice lighter now, almost playful. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

His smile is lazy, like he already knows the answer, which you have to admit he does. Your heart skips a beat again, but for a very different reason this time. “Of course,” you grin up at him despite yourself still not trusting his mood swing. 

“Good,” he winks with a playful smirk. “May your boyfriend kiss you then?”

You giggle, unable to help yourself, the sound is bright and airy in the morning light. It’s ridiculous, the whole situation is ridiculous, but it feels so right. So normal. So him. So you. “Yes, please,” you whisper, and when his perfect lips meet yours, it feels like coming home. It’s soft, warm, everything you didn’t know you needed until this very moment. He tastes like comfort, like safety, like love.

And for that moment, you allow yourself to forget the world. To forget Pulse. To forget the shadows that still linger on the edges of your mind. For now, it’s just you and Jungkook, and that’s all you need and have. 

When you finally pull apart, he’s smiling down at you with nothing but affection in his eyes. “You sure you won’t come to class?” you try softly, hoping maybe he’s changed his mind too. 

But the moment you say it, you regret it. You can see the switch begin to turn again, his expression slowly shifting back to that distant look, the one that makes you feel like you’re losing him to something you can’t fight. 

“Nah,” he says after a pause, his voice quieter now. “Or… unless you want to work on our project?”

You shake your head, trying to keep your voice light. “We can do it another day.”

He shakes his head slowly, but there’s still that wall between you, something that he won’t let you see. “I’ll come by later,” he says, his voice distant again. “We can work on it then.”

“You sure?” you ask again, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m sure,” he says, leaning down to kiss you one last time before you part ways. And even though something inside you still feels unsettled, you hold onto that moment, to the warmth of his lips, the softness of his touch, and the hope that whatever is weighing him down, you’ll figure it out before it eats him alive. 

The day drags on after that like thick honey without Jungkook beside you, every class feeling like an endless void of monotony. You find yourself standing now alone outside the autopsy lab in the late afternoon, waiting for him, though you can’t help the quiet doubt creeping in—he's late, for the first time ever, and part of you wonders if he'll even show. To pass the time, you and your friends huddled mere minutes ago to plan a semi-surprise birthday party for Jungkook at the Italian restaurant, you volunteering to do the speech. It was light, fun, a bit distracting, a way to fill the gaps he’s left in your day, but somehow you couldn’t seem to fully join the excitement as you plotted out the details, even though it’s a way to celebrate the person who has become so important to you.

Across the courtyard, you see a couple stroll by, hand in hand, their laughter soft and intimate, and for a moment, a quiet contentment settles over you. You no longer feel that familiar twinge of sadness when you see couples like this, but are reminded of how lucky you really are, how someone as special as Jungkook has walked into your life. That warmth sits with you, and you think it permanently has settled within you by now, as you glance back down the path.

Then, you spot him. Jogging towards you in a black t-shirt, his hair tousled and damp with sweat, Jungkook’s muscular frame catches you completely off-guard. His late arrival suddenly makes sense. He must’ve lost track of time at the gym, and now, here he is, rushing to meet you with that apologetic smile. But your eyes can’t fixate on his face—his muscles are somehow more prominent than ever, veins tracing lines up his tattooed arm like rivers on a map, pulsing with every step. You’re not even sure when your mouth dropped open, but it stays that way as he finally reaches you, breathless and sweaty.

“Sorry I’m late,” he pants, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, his breath fanning your face with every exhale. He steps back but keeps his hand on the small of your back, his touch doing nothing more than searing where he touches you.

Your throat feels as if it’s turned to sandpaper, dry and useless, but through a miracle unknown, you manage to stammer out, “Did you work out since this morning?”

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, his lips quirking with amusement. “Yeah, why?”

“Kook, it’s been over five hours,” you exclaim, half in awe, half in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s an undeniable glint in his eyes. He knows exactly what effect he’s having on you. “I’ve been hitting my new goal.”

“What goal?” you implore, your curiosity piqued, though your attention keeps slipping back to the way his shirt clings to his chest and shoulders, as though it might tear at any moment.

“700 in the big three,” he replies, smirking with that lazy arrogance that only makes him more irresistible.

“700 in the big three,” you echo, the words floating out of your mouth automatically as your brain struggles to catch up. You can’t even properly process what he’s saying; you’re far too busy ogling him like some kind of starstruck fool.

“700 in the big three,” Jungkook repeats, his tone teasing now, the humour barely concealed behind his smirk. He watches you with that glimmer in his eyes, this confident, playfully condescending glimmer you never seen before on him.

It takes you a second—a second too long, really—but the realisation hits you like a punch in the guts. “700 kilograms in the big three lifts,” you murmur, the numbers looping in your head over and over like a broken record, the image of him lifting so much weight making your knees useless. And with each repetition, your heart rate picks up, your mind spiralling in ways that are anything but clinical. 

Jungkook watches your reaction with an amused glint, his laughter barely contained as he steps closer. “You good?” he asks after a moment, his smile widening at the stunned look on your face.

You nod—well, more like a broken bobblehead—completely overwhelmed. There’s something primal about the way he’s standing there, his raw masculinity sending your hormones into overdrive. And then, just when you think you might be able to regain some sense of control, or rather sanity, he leans down, his breath hot and still slightly quick against your ear, and rasps, “Shall we head inside?”

The words are innocent, off topic, so simple, so ordinary, but coming from him, in this moment with this tone, they feel like a challenge, like a provocation. Your body practically trembles at the sound of his voice, and your brain, already hazy from his presence, finally surrenders with waving flags. You’re helpless—utterly defeated by the sheer being of Jeon Jungkook—and at this point, you’d happily surrender to him again and again, for as long as he wants you to.

“Yes,” you breathe out, the word barely audible, more of a moan than an answer. You’re not even sure if you say it aloud or if it’s simply a thought that escapes your lips. But Jungkook hears it, and the atmosphere between you shifts in an instant. His body tenses, his eyes darkening with a hunger you’ve never seen in him before. It’s utterly raw and intense, and for a split second, you think you might combust under the weight of his gaze. There’s no softness, no tenderness in his eyes now—only desire, pure and unfiltered.

„Another time, ___.“ He doesn’t say anything else, as if he just answered your unspoken conversation, and gently guides you inside the building, his hand never leaving the small of your back. When you and Jungkook step into the lab, the freezing air of it cools you both significantly down, and as the door closes behind you, you try to gather your scattered thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re here to work, to be somehow professional enough to do the project. But with Jungkook beside you, radiating power and confidence, you know it’s going to be an uphill battle to stay focused on anything other than him.

Around you, everyone is already deep into their work, carefully peeling back layers of skin and bone in their inner autopsies. The only ones lagging behind are Ben and Juan, still caught up in their external examinations, fumbling slightly as they try to catch up. You don’t let it slow you down, though—you’ve already lost enough time. Without a word, you and Jungkook move, quickly pulling your gloves on and retrieving your body from the cooler unit. And just like last time, you find yourselves standing across from each other at the autopsy table, the cold steel beneath your fingertips again triggering you demons to come out and play. 

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours, kind and calm, and for a brief second, the darkness takes a step back, but it’s not enough when you look away, knowing better than to stand here with your emotions in overdrive. You can still feel the empathy radiating from him, a soft pressure against the walls you’ve carefully built around yourself, but you shut it out, wrapping yourself in the cold. It’s easier this way��safer.

And when that darkness within you finally consumes you fully, twisting its way through your thoughts, you feel the weight of your own hypocrisy. You’re the one who flips the switch now, pulls away, hides what lies beneath the surface. You realise then, slowly but oh so painfully, that it’s not just him keeping secrets. It’s you too, guarding those parts of yourself, refusing to let him in where it matters most. You shut him out, even as you crave his closeness, and in those moments, you know that the subtle divide between you isn’t just on him—it’s the walls you’ve built around your own heart, too.

“We should begin,” you note devoid of all the emotions it held before.

Jungkook nods, and so you reach for the scalpel, its cool handle familiar in your palm. You still feel his searching eyes on you, but you don’t look up, instead you slice the torso’s skin in the usual Y-shaped incision, down from the shoulders to the sternum, and meeting at the xiphoid process before extending down to the pubic symphysis. After peeling back the loose skin, muscle and tissue, you then begin cutting through the thin layers of fascia still clinging to the ribcage, exposing the pale white bones of the ribs.

Jungkook moves to the medical tool trolley, his gloved hands reaching for the rib shears. “Shall I...?”

“Yes,” you reply, stepping back slightly to give him room.

He carefully positions the rib shears between the ribs and begins clipping through the bones with a controlled strength, each snap of bone sending a soft vibration through the instrument. Jungkook works carefully, each snap of bone gentle, as if even now, he seeks to preserve some kind of dignity in death. It unnerves you a little, but as the sound echoes not only in the quiet room but inside your mind too—a crisp, definitive crack, similar to the thuds of Chulsoo as he hit the railings when he flew down the staircase, even though there’s no mess following the sound this time, only a slight shift in the body as the ribcage gives way under the pressure—you know there’s no chance for your emotions to be triggered.

With the ribcage removed, the torso opens before you like an unwelcome revelation, the organs lying in a strange, suspended silence, if waiting for you. The heart—the centre of all life, now still, now just another part of the anatomy to be examined—rests beneath the thin membrane of the pericardium, ready to be freed.

“The heart first?”

“Yes,” you nod with your voice sounding far away, almost hollow in your own ears. You reach for the scalpel again, making the first careful incision into the pericardium. The thin protective layer peels back, exposing the heart fully now, its grey, decayed mass sitting heavy in the cavity. And you wonder, if someone were to cut you open, would your heart, still beating, look the same? Rotten and past repair?

But you shake it off, “Forceps,” your tone more an automatic request than an engagement with him, the word just a tool to continue the work. Jungkook hands them to you, and for the briefest of moments, his fingers brush against yours, sending an unexpected jolt through you. You swallow it down with all your might, feeling utterly exhausted by now while you use the forceps to  gently peel back the rest of the pericardium.

Jungkook leans closer, his brow creased with concentration, his voice quiet as he observes the enlarged heart carefully. “It’s bigger than normal. Maybe hypertrophy.”

“Most likely. Possibly undiagnosed hypertension or cardiovascular disease,” you agree, letting the clinical words form a barrier between you and the moment. You trace your eyes over the heart’s pale surface, noting the thickened walls, the silent history of the body it once powered.

Jungkook nods, his hands moving carefully as he begins to sever the heart’s connections to the body, everything done tender, as though he’s cradling something fragile in his hands. When the heart is finally free, he lifts it with care, placing it in the tray. “We should weigh it,” he suggests, glancing at you with a gentle question in his eyes, one that lingers in the air between you, full of more than just the cold facts of death.

„Hm.“ You nod, watching as he places the heart on the scale. The weight flashes across the small digital display, confirming what you both already suspected.

“It must have strained him,” Jungkook sighs quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though he’s speaking to the heart itself, or perhaps to the ghost of the person it belonged to.

“Yes,” you reply absently, your mind trying to ignore his empathy. You can’t afford to feel it, not here, not now.

“Next, the lungs?” 

But Jungkook’s suggestion hangs unanswered in the air, lost in the moment. There’s a sudden yelp behind you, and before you can react, Ben stumbles into your cart, knocking it violently over. A scalpel—thankfully still clean and sanitised—clatters off it and embeds itself in your thigh. The room goes still, breaths held, as everyone stares at the darkening spot of blood slowly spreading across your jeans. You feel the strange weight of the blade in your thigh, though there’s no pain. It’s just... uncomfortable, having a blade lodged in your leg. You sigh, long and heavy, while Jungkook exhales shocked, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply slightly angered, though the room remains frozen. “Tae, do you have your kit with you?” 

All eyes are on you, including the professor’s, who looks more pale than the body on the table. You limp to a chair at the back of the room, Taehyung already swapping his gloves before casually grabbing his first aid kit. Jungkook hovers nervously, while Ben, on the verge of fainting, stammers out apologies. You wave them off half-heartedly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. As Taehyung kneels before you and rips your jeans open around the scalpel, you say, “No worries, I can feel no pain. It’s no big deal.” But inside, you’re simmering with irritation at Ben’s incompetence.

Ben, looking horrified, blurts out, “What do you mean?! You’re hurt!”

Taehyung doesn’t miss a beat, yanking the scalpel out with not a care in the world, the metal clinking to the floor as you barely blink. He hums a soft tune as he begins cleaning the wound and stitching it up, while you explain, “NTRK1. I can’t feel pain. At all.”

Everyone is stunned to the core, everyone just able to stare as Taehyung works calmly, as if nothing unusual is happening. There’s a little bit of guilt within you, seeing Jungkook’s shocked expression, realising you should’ve probably told him and the others before now. But what’s done is done, and really, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not such a big deal.

When Taehyung finishes, he pats your good thigh with a small smile, „All done,“ and starts packing up his kit, leaving you sitting there, feeling more awkward than anything else.

„Could you all please just keep going?“ you try not to snap, but you know the irritation and exhaustion are clearly visible now.

“Let’s get drinks tonight,” you turn to Jungkook, knowing it’s no use, the weight of the day, hell the weight of the last few days, presses down on you too much, the accumulated stress leaving you wanting nothing more than to melt away in the comfort of something strong and cold.

“With the gang?” Jungkook asks still a bit shocked, but his eyes soften as they always do when you’re tired like this, as though he’s already prepared to do whatever it takes to lift your spirits.

You shrug, not really caring who tags along. “I don’t care. I just need a drink.”

Jungkook grins, nodding, and without missing a beat, he turns to the others. “Yo, we’re going out. You coming with?”

Everyone agrees with enthusiastic nods except for Hoseok, who’s laughing nervously as he looks at the clock. “This early?”

Jennie rolls her eyes at him and chimes in, “Oh come on, you can have your Sprite,” but then mutters under her breath with a mischievous smirk, “with vodka.”

You laugh softly, standing up and limping towards the locker room to change out of your scrubs. Jungkook is right there beside you after he put the cadaver into the cooler, his arm hovering protectively at your side, ready to catch you if you stumble. A line forms between his eyebrows out of concern, but you want to ease that worried look from his face, not wanting him to fret over something that feels so routine to you.

“Kook, I’m fine,” you reassure him, flashing a small smile. “I don’t feel anything; it’s just my muscle acting up.”

He shakes his head a little, his mouth pulling into a line as he watches your movements. “It’s still strange to me. All these years, I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” you reply softly, not meeting his eyes for a second, afraid he’d discover more of what’s hidden. 

“Don’t be. It’s just a surprise, that’s all.”

After a few more steps, your leg starts to loosen up, and soon enough, you’re walking normally again. By the time you reach the familiar doors of your regular pub, it’s like nothing had ever happened.

The early evening moves swiftly, conversations flowing as easily as the drinks, everyone excepting your condition by the time food is served. The moment Jungkook and you announce that you’re dating, the group bursts into cheers and clapping, Yoongi muttering a sarcastic “about time” under his breath, though you don’t miss the glances Taehyung keeps casting in your direction, his brow creased with concern. You know it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk to him, reassure him that everything’s okay—he just wants the best for you, after all. You’ll need to convince him that keeping certain things from Jungkook is still the right choice, for now at least.

Especially when Jennie, sitting beside Taehyung, is caught in the crosshairs of your teasing. Leaning back in your chair, you smirk over the rim of your drink and ask her slyly, “So, Jennie, seeing anyone lately?”

She shoots you a withering look, muttering a quick and firm “no,” while you catch the warning in her and Taehyung’s eyes. You hold back a laugh, already planning weeks of teasing them.

The night continues with light banter, and the worries and struggle of the past few days seem to dissolve into the air like the hot steam of your food. Being here with Jungkook and the rest of your friends, there’s a warmth that wraps around you, a kind of quiet contentment that settles deep in your bones. This, you think, is what you’ve needed. Just this—the laughter, the closeness, the easy way Jungkook drops his arm around your shoulder, always finding your free hand or brushing soft kisses on your temple and hair.

A few drinks in, after you and Jungkook have both had a couple of glasses, he leans in close, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. “Let’s get out of here.”

It’s not a question, and there’s something in his eyes, something inviting that makes it impossible to say no. You smile, knowing full well you’re both about to become the subject of endless teasing from your friends, but you don’t care. You bid them goodnight, waving off their playful remarks, your mind already too focused on Jungkook’s big, callused hand wrapped around yours, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the room and universe worth paying attention to.

When you step outside, the night air is refreshing, cutting through the slight buzz you’ve got going from the drinks, sobering you up until there’s nothing left but happiness. The two of you walk side by side, hands swinging between you, and there’s this lightness in your chest you haven’t felt in days. You’ve always known that Jungkook brings a certain calm to your life, a kind of peace you’ve never really had before, but tonight it feels especially strong.

He’s laughing as you mimic one of your professors, trying your best to imitate the man’s deep, grumbling voice and exaggerated gestures. Jungkook throws his head back, his laugh echoing down the quiet street, and the sound of it makes your heart feel even more lighter. His hand squeezes yours as you twirl around, your movements carefree and loose, your inhibitions melting away as you let yourself bask in this moment, in him.

You leave his hand, spin a few times around a lamppost nearby, feeling the gentle night breeze on your flushed face. You’re not drunk nor buzzed anymore, just pleasantly warm, and in the soft glow of the streetlights, everything feels almost dreamlike. You’re smiling, Jungkook is too, and for once, you’re allowing yourself to be fully in the moment, free from the shadows that usually cloud your mind.

You really want this to work, really want him to know, so you start “Will you still be with me when I’ve killed someone?” The words slip out of your mouth as you spin, a strange mix of jest and sincerity lacing your tone. You try to keep the smile on your face, but there’s an uncertainty in your eyes that betrays you.

Jungkook laughs, catching your hand mid-spin, pulling you into his chest. He holds you there, his strong arms wrapping around you, his warmth enveloping you. “We’re going to be doctors,” he states with a grin. “Of course we’re going to kill someone by accident.” He pauses, brushing his thumb gently over your cheekbone as he cradles your face in his hands, his voice lowering into something tender, intimate. “And when that time comes, I’ll still be right here, standing next to you.”

Jungkook’s words repeat in your mind, and part of you aches to believe him. But there’s that vile voice inside, always nagging, always spreading doubt, reminding you of what you are, what you hide beneath it all. If he knew, would he really stay? you wonder if his patience and kindness could stretch this far, past the monster you are. It’s hard to imagine, yet you can’t help but cling to the hope that he’ll love you enough someday to not walk away. “I hope you’re right.”

“I am, because there’s nothing you could do that can make me leave.” And after a short pause, when his eyes drown you with their tenderness, he says the three words you didn’t expect. “I love you.” 

You’re floating, aren’t you? His eyes are so full of sincerity, it’s almost intoxicating, lifting you higher with every glance until you reach cloud nine where he awaits you. It’s too much, too good, but you let yourself get swept up in it, let the light of him fill you. The doubts are still there, of course, whispering their poison. But right now, you ignore them. You turn a blind eye to the darkness and deaf ears to the demon inside, because for once, you just want to feel this—this joy, this love—without the fear dragging you back down to the cold, hard floor.

„I love you too, Jeon Jungkook.“

And then he kisses you, a touch full of joy, soft with confidence and love. His lips meet yours, stealing your breath and offering his in return, and for now, everything fells right. You melt into his form, losing yourself as you gently suck on his plush bottom lip, and in that tender exchange, you feel whole.

When he parts, there’s a playful glint in his eyes „I think I forgot something.“

„Hm?“ you hum, still dazed from everything he is.

„Some weight for the 700.“ 

In one swift move, he sweeps you into his arms, cradling you effortlessly, and you can't help but laugh, breathless from the sudden rush. “You’re crazy,” you giggle, but the sound falters as you catch the predatory glint in his eyes. 

His gaze locks onto yours, and with each step he takes toward your dorm, your heart skips. “Oh, I am,” he murmurs, voice low. “Don’t think I forgot how you drooled over me.” 

Your laughter fades into silence, heat rising in your cheeks as wetness begins to pool between your thighs, his strength alone making your body respond instinctually.

When you finally make it back to the dorm and slip into your room, the space is drenched in darkness, save for the soft glow of light filtering in from the outside world. But you barely notice; all your attention is on Jungkook, his lips never leaving yours, hands roaming over each other’s clothed bodies with a heat that drowns out everything else. His breath is warm against your mouth, his tongue sliding over yours, and in each kiss, you taste him, feel him—everything he is, everything you crave.

His hands glide up your sides, fingers catching the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, and you do the same, your eyes falling on his bare torso. You always knew he was strong, but now, with the soft light catching the curve of his muscles, it’s like he’s carved from something divine—each breath making his body shift and flex with a power that steals your breath all over again. His gaze drops to your breasts, your lace bra pushing them up, but he doesn’t linger for long before kissing you again, guiding you backwards until your legs hit the edge of your bed. You fall together, crawling onto the mattress as if you’re made for this, made for each other.

He trails kisses down your body, his lips oblivious of the scars that litter your skin in the dim lighting, and there’s a tenderness in his touch that feels almost reverent as he carefully pulls your jeans off, mindful of the fresh wound on your thigh. His hands move over your skin as though he’s worshipping you, like you’re something fragile yet unbreakable, and it’s so unfamiliar it makes you nearly tear up.

You can’t take it anymore—you grab him by the neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him back to kiss you as you fumble with his belt, his trousers quickly discarded with a kick of his leg. His lips move to your neck, tiny love confessions brushing against your skin between kisses, and when he finds the sensitive spots that make you moan, his hand slips beneath your underwear, fingers sliding over your wetness, his middle finger slipping inside you with ease as his palm presses against your clit. Your moan spills into his mouth, and he responds with a deep grunt that vibrates through his chest and into you, making your head spin even more.

“You’re so drenched,” he whispers, voice rough with desire, his finger slowly pumping in and out, each word sending waves of bliss through your body.

Your hands wander down his strong body, both of you discarding the last of your clothing in no time. His cock is to die for, long and girth like you never seen before, pulsing with dark veins making it even bigger, the tip glistening with precum. The sight makes you dizzy with want, every coherent thought slipping away as you take in the sheer beauty of him, his body and mind utter perfection.

“I love you,” you breath, pushing him gently onto his back with your small hands on his firm chest, straddling his tiny middle. Your arousal drips onto him, making him moan beneath you, his hands gripping your hips as you lean down to kiss his neck, sliding lower until your tongue teases his small, dark nipples. He bucks his hips into the air, the soft groan from his lips music to your ears.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper as you kiss your way down his body, eyes locking onto his cock when you finally reach it. His gaze follows you, full of lust yet still brimming with undeniable love.

You wrap your tiny hand around him, biting your lip as you keep eye contact, waiting for his reaction. His hips buck involuntarily, and that’s all the confirmation you need. You take him into your mouth, the weight of him sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat as you work the rest of him with your hand. His moan fills the room, deep and guttural, one of his hands gripping the sheet while the other’s gripping your hair as he gasps, “Oh my god.”

And oh my god indeed. He tastes like heaven, feels like a dream as you pick up the pace, sucking harder, giving him everything he deserves until his abs tense and his thighs tremble. He stops you then, pulling you up to his mouth, kissing you deeply as your hands fumble for the nightstand. You quickly hand him a condom, watching as he bites it open, his hands shaking slightly as he rolls it on.

“Shouldn’t I prepare you more? It might hurt,” he murmurs, concern painting his face.

But you shake your head, kissing him softly. “I’m good. I won’t feel it,” you say, positioning yourself over him.

He pauses, his hands gripping your shoulders, eyes wide. “You won’t feel it?” he’s nearly squeaking full of disbelieve.

You laugh softly, realising your wording was off and correcting yourself. “No, I’ll feel it, just not the pain. Remember?”

Realisation floods his features, and he chuckles lightly embarrassed. “Oh, right. Yeah. Sorry.” His eyes drift down to where your juices drip onto his pelvis. “Okay.”

With that, you slowly sink down onto him, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully nestled inside you. The moan that escapes both of you is loud, filling the room as the overwhelming sensation of being joined like this crashes over you, throwing both your heads back. He fits perfectly, filling you in a way that makes everything else fade away, and when you start to move, it’s like you’re floating, flying in heaven, each drop of your hips sending you higher.

Jungkook matches your rhythm, thrusting up into you with an unrelenting drive, his stamina pushing you further and further until the room seems to shimmer in all the colours of the rainbow. You watch him, mesmerised by the way his muscles flex, the sheen of sweat on his skin making him look like some otherworldly being. And then it hits you—your climax tearing through you with a long moan as your juices spill out around him, soaking everything in their path.

Jungkook’s eyes lock with yours, his pace quickening as he chases his own release, his voice hoarse as he gasps out, “I love you,” before his orgasm hits, spilling into the condom as you ride out the waves of your own high together. It takes what feels like forever to finally come down, and when you do, you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, hearts pounding in sync. No walls between you.

prologue • 01 • 02 • 03 • 04 • masterlist • 06

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed it👀 lmk what you think in any way you like! please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕

a/n 4: The next chapter will have a time skip, so there won’t be scenes like Jungkook’s surprise b-day party. However, drabble requests and character asks are open, though it might take me some time to write them ☺️

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

taglist: @darkeneddiary, @dumbheadblog, @jksusawife, @jayhoneybeecomb, @kookienooki, @hagridshaircare 

[elysianightsss]

ANAESTHESIA | MASTERLIST

Pairings | Surgeon Simon Riley x Clinical Fellow Reader, Surgeon Price x Clinical Fellow Reader, Clinical Fellow Soap x Clinical Fellow Reader, Nurse Gaz x Clinical Fellow Reader, Doctor!141 x reader.

Summary | Simon was your high school sweetheart, Kyle was your rebound from Simon, Johnny was your friend with benefits for your first year at med school and John was the one night stand you couldn’t remember. Five years later they’re all working at the same hospital you’d just been transferred to.

Tags | Smut, Fluff, Angst, medical stuff I had to google to make sure it was accurate, awkwardness, mentions of blood, mentions of surgery and wounds, the hospital is massive, the guys pining for you while you try to ignore them, Simon being a dick, comedy gold, a written soap opera if there ever was one.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Fin

Divider credit | @cafekitsune

[megalony]

Like Father, Like Son- Part 14

Thank you all for the lovely supporting messages on this series, I hope you all like this part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez-blog​ @jonesyaddiction​ @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​ @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @ceres27​ @avyannadawn​

Series masterlist: @lharrietg @viking-raider @coldmuffinpartycloud​ @kikisparadise18​ @everydaymultifandom @deangal-101 @thevelvetseries​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​ @its-me-meg​ @misshale21​ @fanfictionaddiction99​ @moonlacebeam​ @rebelliouscat​ @inanna999​ @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest​ @joviejuliette @mandybug39 @geekwritersworld​ @melisssaa​ @angelcavill66​ @lostinlifexx @greensleeves888​ @comboboo​ @leyannrae​ @myartistrash02​ @yourdaydreamerfan @pretty-pillow-princess​ @bicyhot1​ @springholland​ @kingliam2019​ @michelehansel​ @tomhiddlestonlove15 @sarahjoestewy-blog​ @1007grace​ @art-estrange​ @little-brattyangel​ @rhilee91​ @cassiaodinsdottir​ @eileen-stuff @swthxrry​ @mis-lil-red​​ @a7texas @f1-hoff​

Series masterlist

Summary: Henry and (Y/n) have five children together meaning their lives are always busy and complicated. But their family is tested when their eldest son decides to take his anger out on (Y/n).  

Enjoy.

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

"Henry?"

Lifting his gaze from staring endlessly into his coffee cup, Henry felt a wave of relief and sadness welling up in his chest when his eyes landed on his mum.

He shifted Briar a little higher up against his chest, feeling the toddler nuzzle his face into his neck with his arms cocooned up to his small chest. Meeting his mum halfway up the corridor, Henry wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her into his chest. When he saw his mum yesterday he knew he had scared the life out of her with how he had almost cried that (Y/n) and the kids were in an accident and he had to go and find them at the hospital.

He couldn't stop apologising on the phone last night for how he had worried her, he didn't mean to do that and he would never just drop the kids off with her without at least two days advance notice. But he didn't want to bring the little ones to the hospital when he didn't know how badly the rest of his family was hurt.

"How are they?" Lisa rubbed her finger against Briar's cheek before they slowly started to walk back down the corridor towards the room.

Henry had taken to walking up and down the corridor to tire Briar out and so he could go and get himself a drink to keep him awake.

"(Y/n)'s finally asleep, but Harvey hasn't woken up yet."

Neither Henry or (Y/n) had slept last night, they spent the hours watching over Harvey and waiting impatiently to see if he would wake up. At two in the morning when the sedation started to wear off, he started to get distressed. His limbs were subtally shaking, he was froffing at the mouth and his heartbeat was fluctuating so he was put back under anaesthesia for the third time and anti-convulsant meds were put straight into his blood through a drip.

The plan was to keep him on the meds in liquid form, then when he woke up and hopefully started to get better, he could be put on them in tablet form. The doctors didn't know whether he would keep having seizures once his brain swelling went down so they wanted him on meds for at least a month to be sure.

"What have the doctors said?"

"Not a lot really," Henry took a big swig of his coffee but the caffiene didn't perk him up and he knew his expression gave away that he was at his breaking point. "If it weren't for the seizures they would have said he was fine and he should have been awake by now. If he can't wake up today without a seizure they want us to agree to put him into an induced coma so his brain can heal for a few days."

Henry wasn't sure about agreeing to that just yet. He didn't want Harvey shoved into a deep slumber, something about it just didn't sit right with him. But on the other hand, Henry knew that they didn't have any other choice. If he couldn't wake up without his brain going into shock and having a fit then there was very little choice. They would have to put him in a coma so they didn't have to sedate him every few hours. At least in a coma his body could rest and start to heal and his swelling could go down.

They rounded the corner and Henry pointed out the right room for them to enter. In the far left side of the room sat Briar's pushchair and next to it, Athena was in her carrier happily dozing off to sleep.

And then there was (Y/n), sat in the chair next to Harvey's bed with her arms folded over on the bed and her head resting on her arms as she finally managed to get a few minutes sleep. Both her hands were wrapped around Harvey's hand that she hadn't let go of since the early hours of the morning.

Walking into the room, Henry gently set Briar down in his chair and handed him a beaker of juice before he moved to stand behind (Y/n)'s chair. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss the back of her head while his mum sat down in the empty chair on the other side of the bed.

He let his eyes wander back over to Harvey but he couldn't get over the state of his head. It didn't matter how many hours Henry had spent watching over his second boy, he couldn't help how his stomach turned into tight knots or how his heart seemed to squeeze and clench whenever he glanced over at Harvey's temple. He just didn't look right.

The left side of his head had swollen up like a balloon overnight until half of his head looked like Frankenstein's monster's huge overlapping brow. The wound was angry and inflamed with a bright red streak and multicoloured bruising splotched all around the shaved area. It was like there was a big helium balloon sitting just underneath Harvey's skin and the colours were showing up. And with how big the cut was, it made his eyebrow swollen which meant when he opened his eyes his eyelid might be pushing down a little.

Henry didn't want to see Harvey with a shaved head. Since he had been a baby he had lovely brown locks of hair that made him look just like Henry and Henry loved that. He loved his little double and he knew Harvey loved his floppy hair, whenever they went to the hairdresser he only let them snip an inch off his hair since he was a toddler.

Time seemed to slip away from them while Henry stayed hunched over the chair, kissing the back of (Y/n)'s neck and rubbing his hands up and down her arms while she continued to sleep.

When Harvey had finally settled down early in the morning, Henry had managed to convince (Y/n) to go for an X-ray and then get her chest binded when it was confirmed she had broken two ribs and fractured a third. But he was struggling to get her to agree to crutches, she shouldn't be putting weight on her knee when it had been dislocated but she didn't care. When Harvey was up and about, Henry would try again.

"Henry, look."

Opening his eyes, Henry leaned over (Y/n) to try and see what his mum was talking about and a spark of adrenaline came to life in the pit of his stomach. Harvey's fingers were moving. This meant that he was either going to go straight into a seizure, wake up and then have a seizure, or, more impossibly, he might just wake up without a fit.

Henry was praying for the latter but not getting his hopes too high after the night they had had.

"Sweetheart, wake up. He's starting to come round." He gently held (Y/n)'s shoulders and started rubbing his thumbs in circles against her skin to rouse her. (Y/n) felt like she had been asleep for hours but she instinctively knew it couldn't have been more than an hour she had dozed off. She managed a weak smile when she saw Lisa sitting opposite her but her eyes widened and she felt more alert when she felt Harvey's arm twitching underneath hers.

Moving her hand, (Y/n) gently brushed her fingers between Harvey's curls that were still there for the time being and she brought his hand up to rest against her cheek. All three of them seemed to hold their breaths and wait in agony for him to start moving. Deep down they knew what they were expecting to happen but they daren't say anything just yet.

A mumble passed through his lips and Henry tried to strain his ears to work out what he was saying but he couldn't fathom it out.

Harvey's head started to nod back and forth kind of like what Charlie did as a stim to calm himself down and his pale lips finally started to mumble 'dad' over and over, finally getting a bit louder.

"I'm here bud, we're both here." Henry could of groaned when he reached across to ruffle Harvey's hair that felt wrong to touch with how bad the state of his head was. But he wanted Harvey to have that touch that he always associated with Henry so he could be sure he was with him.

"Can you open your eyes baby?" (Y/n) kissed the back of Harvey's hand and leaned back into Henry, smiling when she felt his chin perching on her shoulder. This was longer than usual, this was the most awake he had been since the crash without suddenly droning off into a seizure. It was promising.

"Mum?"

"Yeah, it's me baby and nanna's here too. Open those eyes," Moving her free hand, (Y/n) leaned across and pressed the emergency button at the back of the bed. They needed the doctor here to assess Harvey and be around while he was awake. This was the closest they were getting to him waking up and they needed to make sure he was alright.

It took a while for Harvey to even try and blink, his eyes were moving beneath his eyelids that were twitching like they were glued shut. But when he finally started to blink, his lids fluttered like butterfly wings and squinted at the brightness of the room.

(Y/n)'s heart could have broken in her chest right the very moment Harvey moved a trembling hand up to try and touch his head. He barely skimmed his fingertip over his stitches before he shrieked and pulled back before a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. His eyes were barely open but now they were watering and big sobs started to wrack his chest.

He must be in pain.

(Y/n) turned her head to look back at Henry, her own eyes glossing with tears. What were they supposed to say? What could they do?

"Shh, buddy it's alright just calm down. You've banged up your head so don't try touch it." Henry moved towards the top of the bed and kissed Harvey's temple before he held onto his other hand when he tried to move it towards his head again. They couldn't have him prodding at it becuse he was clearly in a tremendous amount of pain.

A sharp gasp escaped (Y/n)'s lips and Henry sucked in a deep breath, trying not to recoil back when Harvey's eyes finally opened wide enough for them to see his left eye. His usual golden brown orb was there, but a deep ring of red was circled around his eye and the white of his eye was bloodshot.

"Everything okay in here?" Doctor Stone, who had been looking after Harvey since he got here, came bustling through the door along with an older nurse who they knew as Angie.

"He's starting to wake up,"

Lisa crossed around the bed and stood next to (Y/n), resting a hand on her shoulder while the doctor stood on Harvey's other side. It was evident on his face that he was relieved to see the young boy awake and not having another seizure. They got their hopes up at two in the morning that he migiht just wake up, only to watch him be sedated straight away when he seized.

"Alright Harvey, I'm doctor Stone. Can you see properly, are you having any problems with your vision?"

Grabbing a small torch from his pocket, the doctor was very gentle when he pulled Harvey's eyelid back and flashed the light across his right eye to watch it constrict. Then he did the same to his bloodshot eye which thankfully was constricting meaning his eyes were still sensitive to bright lights.

"It's... blurry." Harvey motioned to his left eye but he couldn't stop from whining at the pain that was floating around in his blood.

"That's okay, your head took a big beating yesterday. Can you wiggle your toes?" He nodded with a small smile when Harvey twitched his toes and moved his feet, showing he truly didn't get any nerve damage. "Good, are you in any pain?"

"My head, oww, mum,"

"Shh, alright baby." (Y/n) kissed his hand again when he began to cry but she looked at the doctor when he lifted up Harvey's left hand. His fingers were twitching and his hand and up his arm was trembling very subtally which didn't look good.

When the doctor let go of Harvey's hand and tried to touch and assess his head, a howling scream left Harvey's lips and his whole body jumped against the bed. (Y/n) reached across to grab his hands and hold them down, she could see he was about to hit the doctor to get him away. Violent, horrid sobs left his chapped lips and he began to screech even though the doctor was only very lightly touching his head.

"Harvey-"

Henry lightly sighed to himself and leaned down to press his hands on Harvey's shoulders when he started to wriggle and become distressed. His knees came up towards his stomach and he tossed from side to side, jerking his hands out of (Y/n)'s so he could push everyone away.

"Okay, nurse can you put some morphine in his drip please?"

"Dad!"

Jerking his arms out of (Y/n)'s hold, Harvey reached up and deadlocked his arms around Henry's neck until his dad was almost smothering him. Henry braced his hand on the back of the bed so his weight wasn't all thrust down on Harvey who would be squashed if that happened. He wrapped his other arm around Harvey's waist and tucked his face into Harvey's neck. He could feel his heart physically shattering with his baby boy sobbing into his neck.

He kept hold of Harvey while the nurse quickly injected a shot of morphine into the IV tube near his wrist.

"I'm here, shh you're alright, dad's here."

"Dad..."

Henry didn't realise how much strength Harvey had until he tried to pull back and the arms around his neck tightened like iron bars and crushed him back down to his sons chest.

"Okay, let me sit on the bed with you then." It wouldn't do his back any favours to stay stooped over the bed in a headlock for much longer.

Harvey seemed to have an internal debate before he relented and let his arms go loose. He went like a ragdoll, allowing Henry to lift him up so he could sit down on the bed. Henry sat up against the back of the bed and spread his legs so Harvey could shuffle between them and cuddle up close to his chest. Harvey laid on his side and brought his legs up near his stomach and wrapped his arms as far as they would go around Henry's toned abdomen, snuggling into him as much as he could.

Out of instinct, Henry's hand went to go towards Harvey's hair but he recoiled back and moved his hand to his son's neck instead. He couldn't touch his head without inflicting immense pain and that cut a deep wound within him.

"When he's settled this afternoon we'll take scans of his eyes, just to check them out. His brain being swollen might just be pushing on some nerves or they could be damaged from the force of the crash but it shouldn't be permanent."

"Thank you,"

"I'll take little one for a stroll, give you all some time together," Lisa kissed Harvey's outstretched hand before she got Briar's pushchair and left the room after the doctor. It would be one less child for them to worry about and they could focus on Harvey for a little while.

"What happened?" Harvey's voice was quiet and Henry guessed the morphine was already kicking into his system because he had gone rather still in his arms.

"Someone crashed into us yesterday, you got banged around in the car and hurt your head, baby." (Y/n) moved to sit on the edge of the bed and slowly rubbed her hand up and down his arm.

"Is everyone okay? W-where's Pete?" It seemed to dawn on him that the only siblings in the room with him were the ones who weren't in the car when it crashed. Peter was always by his side like a little shadow but he wasn't here right now. Was he alright? Did he get hurt?

"Everyone's fine, bud. Pete and Angel are with auntie Leah and Charlie's with grandad. You gave us a scare, though, we were worried."

A comfortable silence fell around them and Henry relished in the feeling of having his boy in his arms. During the night he had contemplated just about every scenario that could possibly happen over the next few days, one of them being the thought that Harvey wouldn't wake up. To have him here in his arms, awake and as well as he could be was the best outcome possible and it was one Henry worried they won't get.

Turning her head, (Y/n) glanced over at Athena to check she was still asleep but a tremor rattled through her body when she felt Harvey jump beside her. His trembling hand moved back to touch his head, it was so painful but it was also an itching kind of pain just beneath the skin that he wanted to be rid of.

His fingers graced over the top of the stitches before he suddenly realised his hair wasn't in the way. His hand moved rapidly around the top of his head even though it made him wince until he started to scream.

They shaved his head.

His head was the size of a watermelon.

The pain was excrutiating.

There were so many different reasons for him to start screaming and each one made his blood boil until all he could do was scream until he had no air left in his body.

"Baby, baby it's okay-"

"M-my hair... oow it hurts!" He didn't know which reason to cry for the worst, the fact that his beloved hair was now half gone and ruined, the fact his head seems to have doubled in size since he last remembered. Or the fact that he couldn't touch his head without feeling the blinding pain or even open his left eye properly due to the swelling.

"Buddy, shh. You had a really deep cut, they had to shave some of your hair to stitch you back up. It'll grow back." Henry's words weren't comforting enough so he wrapped his arms tighter around Harvey and started to rock him like he was a babe in arms again.

They couldn't have him getting so pent up like this it would make him feel worse. He didn't need any stress when his head and brain were swollen like they were.

"Shh... oh baby."

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

"Alright baby, I'll be back first thing in the morning and I'll bring Angel and the boys to see you, okay?" (Y/n) kneeled down in front of the wheelchair Harvey was slumped down in and rubbed her hands over his knees reassuringly.

She needed to go and get the kids and take them all home, they had had enough mayhem for one day. Athena needed to be settled at home and have a bath and her evening feed and Briar needed to go sleep in his own bed rather than his pushchair. The rest of the kids needed feeding and being in their own beds.

(Y/n) didn't want to leave, she really didn't. The thought of going home and leaving Harvey here after what he had been through made her heart ache but she couldn't leave Charlie, Angel and Peter any longer.

But Henry was staying. Harvey couldn't be on his own in case something else happened and he wouldn't cope without one parent sat with him and with the way he was clinging to Henry, they both agreed he should stay the night. Then in the morning they would switch and Henry would have the rest of the kids and get a shower while (Y/n) stayed with Harvey. This was going to be the arrangement until Harvey was able to come home.

"Love you,"

"I love you too," Pushing to her feet, (Y/n) kissed his temple before she rounded the chair to hug Henry. After sleeping the early hours of the morning on Henry's lap in an armchair, (Y/n) wanted to curl up in their own bed with Henry's arms around her. But for now, a lasting hug and simmering kiss would have to be enough.

"I'll call you when he's asleep. Love you, baby."

"Okay, I love you," Leaning on her tiptoes, (Y/n) kissed his cheek before she got in the lift to go downstairs. She had walked up to the assessment ward with them since Harvey was having an eye scan done.

"Alright bud, here we go."

Henry rapped his knuckles on the door before slowly opening it and pushing the wheelchair into the room when they were beckoned in. It was a simple scan just like they did at the opticians, Doctor Stone told Henry whey wanted to see all the veins and nerves and the back of his eyes to see if there was any damage. He was very sure there wouldn't be lasting damage but they needed to be safe.

"Is it Harvey?"

"Yes it is," Henry answered when all Harvey could do was shrink down in his seat.

"Let's get you sat down and it will be over within minutes."

"Dad..." Turning his head, Harvey looked up at Henry who towered over him like a real-life superhero trying to protect him. He didn't want to do this, he hated the optician and he still felt ill, his head felt so heavy and huge and painful that he was still whimpering in pain. He didn't want to have big bright lights shined into his eyes.

"It won't be for long, I'll sit with you, come on."

Moving round, Henry sat down in the seat and motioned to his lap, smiling when Harvey slowly hobbled out of the chair and clambered onto his lap. He leaned his back into Henry's chest, feeling strong arms wrapping around his middle to secure him and keep him safe.

"Alrighty, rest your chin here and press your forehead into bar there." The doctor lowered down the bars until Harvey's chin was firmly resting on the chin rest but Harvey pulled away when he tried to push the plastic bar against his temple. His head was still fragile and it hurt, he wasn't pushing his forehead into that to make it hurt.

"It hurts!"

"Okay, just get as close to the bar as you can, you don't have to touch it. Now, a little assessment first. When you see a red dot appear on the screen, press this button for me."

He pushed a little red button across to Harvey before pressing a button ready for the lights to appear. It would check how good his vision was and determine any spots in his vision or the corners of his eyes that weren't working properly.

"Dad, I have a headache." Harvey turned to look round at Henry when the two-minute assessment was done. Even behind his eyes was starting to throb and closing his eyes and trying to rest didn't help earlier. He wanted to sleep but he was in too much discomfort.

"Just the scan left and then you can go back and sleep, you're doing amazing, buddy." With a sigh, Harvey turned back to the scanner again.

"Can you open your eyes wide?"

"I- I can't,"

His left eye was now almost swollen shut and he had cried continuously until his face went blue because he hated the feeling of trying to open his eye and only partially seeing blobs and blurs. It was like someone was holding their finger on his eyebrow and constantly pushing it down into his eye.

"I'll hold it open, stay still buddy." Henry tried to be as gentle as he could when he pulled the top of Harvey's eyelid up. It was the only way they would get a picture, he couldn't help his face and forehead being swollen like it was.

Harvey didn't like it.

He didn't like the blinding white light that flashed in front of him or the dark blue that followed the camera flash. He didn't like the headache that immediately formed behind his eyes or the blaring red dot he had to stare directly at to get a good picture. The dot wasn't even a proper one, it was tiny and far away and his left eye couldn't focus on anything even with Henry holding his eyelid up.

"All done, good job."

Henry nodded and leaned back in the chair but his smile slowly faded when Harvey didn't try to get off his lap and get back in the chair. He stayed almost completely motionless apart from the odd whimper before his head suddenly flopped back against Henry's shoulder.

"What's up, bud?"

After a minute of complete silence, Henry gently moved Harvey's head so he could try and look down at him to see what the problem was.

"Harvey- fucking Jesus!"

When Harvey's head suddenly pivoted back into his face, Henry's head snapped back so hard a muscle in his neck twinged. A throbbing pain pulsed in his nose as blood trickled down the back of his throat and down his face towards his lips. Tears blurred Henry's vision and streamed down his face but he had to push through them and move because he had Harvey violently throwing himself around on his lap.

He was seizing.

Wrapping both arms around Harvey's jerking middle, Henry pushed the chair back before he slipped off the edge of the chair and went down on his knees. He laid Harvey down on his side on the floor and quickly wiped his face on his bare arm so the blood didn't pool down onto his son.

Henry kept his left hand secured at the base of Harvey's neck and moved his other hand to rest on Harvey's arm, keeping his boy laid on his side so if he threw up like he had been doing while having a seizure, he wouldn't choke. He continued to sniff and snort the blood from his nose and mouth, flinching every time Harvey voilently flopped against the floor like a fish.

He was going to be littered in bruises tomorrow.

[fictional-reylin]

Chapter 1: Rejection Word count: 1.369 Summary: What's more romantic than your future gf rescuing you as a first meeting ?

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As the night took over the city, Kurisu watched as the dark sky was painted with bright stars, illuminating the city. The feline hero was perched up on the edge of a tall building, watching over the civilians as they passed by.

Nothing much was going on, and Kurisu was thankful for that. She was happy that no dumbass tried to disturb people’s peace tonight, especially when it was the start of school. People already had enough stress.

As she continued watching the faceless figures go on about their tasks, she heard her personal phone ringing. She didn’t have to look at it to know that it was one of her only two friends calling, so she took it out, put it on speaker and then laid it down next to her.

“Hey Kurisu” she heard two male voices simultaneously.

“Tōya, Tenko. What’s up ?”

Todoroki Tōya and Shimura Tenko. Her only two friends since high school. The three of them graduated from Shiketsu High School and grew up to be heroes, with Kurisu and Tenko both being underground ones, while Tōya followed in his dad’s path and became a pro.

“We wanted to ask about little Bakugō” Tōya spoke first. She could practically hear the satisfied grin on his face at the nickname that he used for her brother.

“Yeah. It’s Katsuki’s first day at UA, right ? How was he ?” Tenko then asked, a bit more serious.

Kurisu chuckled, letting her feet dangle in the void as she recalled what her brother told her during the quick call while he had lunch.

“Didn’t really have time to talk to him since I slept most of the day. But he said everything was fine. Classmates were a bit annoying. Oh, and Izuku is with him !”

“Little broccoli ?!” Tōya exclaimed, making the girl cover her ears at the loud sound. “No way. Isn’t he quirkless ?”

“I guess no ? When Katsuki asked about it, Izuku said that he discovered his quirk at the entrance exam. Maybe it was somehow blocked this entire time ?”

“Katsuki’s friend is weird as hell dude” Tenko mumbled and Kurisu had to hold back a growl. Before she could tease him back, she heard her radio.

“Any hero near ____ location. Come immediately. Eraser head needs back up.”

Kurisu quickly answered the radio, affirming that she was going to take this mission, and ended the call before running in the direction where she was needed. She effortlessly jumped from one rooftop to another, before abruptly stopping at the edge of one of them, spotting her target.

There she saw him, a villain battling with who she assumed was Eraser head. The villain in question had an obvious mutant quirk. He had the form of some kind of dog or wolf. Definitely canine. No weapons, only sharp claws and teeth. She could work with that.

“Well… Hope he’s in the mood for needles.”

Without further thinking, she jumped down and right onto the back of the giant, using her claws, making sure to not draw too much blood, to distract him before inserting a needle with anaesthesia.

She inserted it just in time because directly after it, the villain grabbed her by her shoulders and threw her off him, making her fly directly onto the underground hero who quickly caught her.

“You okay ?”

She winced, feeling that the villain certainly scratched on her shoulder while throwing her off.

“Yeah just… Distract him. I used lidocaine, so in five minutes or less he will be out.”

She could only describe the look that he gave her as surprise. Heroes didn’t usually use anything else other than their own quirks or weapons when in a fight, not drugs. But he guessed that if she could tell a complete stranger this information so casually, then she was given permission by the hero commission.

And she was also right about the anaesthesia. In less than five minutes, the villain was on the ground. The black-haired man quickly put handcuffs and him and handed him over to police officers. When that was taken care of, he went over to Kurisu, who already was patched up on the shoulder.

When he looked at her, he could see that there was still fresh blood on the base of her neck and also and her hand. He stared long enough for her to notice.

“Why did you need back up ?”

He finally looked up at her, noticing her orange eyes staring right at him. He felt a small flutter in his chest. She looked cute, like a curious cat staring up at him and demanding answers.

“I can block people’s quirks. But in case of a mutant, there’s nothing much I can do” He looked down at his now torn apart scarf wrapped around his arms. “And I didn’t expect him to be strong enough to break this. Usually it’s not supposed to break.”

As he looked back at her, wanting to ask her why she needed or even allowed to use drugs during combat, he found her licking off her blood from her hand. Now, Aizawa wasn’t the type to be turned on by whatever pretty girl he found on the street. But he would be lying if her licking up off her own blood with that serious, almost predatory look wasn’t in the slightest attractive.

He swallowed. It wasn’t hard to keep on his poker face, he wasn’t a dumb teenage boy. But he was a guy, a guy that wasn’t shy enough to show when he was interested in someone.

“You look younger than me”

Kurisu looked up at him, her eyes narrowing at his statement. She didn’t really know what he was getting at.

“I look younger. The hell does that mean ? He wants to know my age, why doesn’t he just ask ? Maybe he finds me attractive ? Nah ! That can’t be the case…”

“I’m 20… so yeah, I guess…” She said, looking around awkwardly.

He had to bite down a chuckle from escaping his lips. The only thought that was going through his head was how cute he found her.

“Want to grab a drink after our shifts ?”

At that, Kurisu immediately looked up at him, a neutral expression immediately returning to her face as she sensed his amusement. She didn’t know why he was amused, but she guessed that he just wanted to mess with her.

“I have dinner with my brother so… No, thanks”

And with that, she immediately went away, quickly climbing up the building to get back to her assigned location. Aizawa didn’t mind. A no was a no, and he was not going to push it, no matter how cute or attractive he found her. But that didn’t mean that he was not disappointed. Letting out a groan, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked into the opposite direction towards his home. At least he had his cat to keep him company.

When Kurisu returned home, she found Katsuki in the kitchen, finishing up the dinner that they were supposed to eat together. By the smell she could tell exactly what it was: Tonkatsu (Pork Cutlets) for him, and simple raw bloody meat for her, like she asked.

“I’m home” she said, sitting down at the table, looking over at her brother’s serious expression while he finished cooking his part of the dinner.

“You’re unusually on time. Everyone got tired of seeing your face or what ?” He turned to look at her, a mocking smirk on his face as he served the food.

“It was just calm at my area. But I helped someone else. His name was Eraser Head or something” she said, biting down on the red meat, her fangs easily piercing through it.

“That’s my home room teacher at UA”

She looked up at him, blinking a few times before opening her mouth and telling something so satisfying, but later would definitely leave her with an explosion right in her face.

“Well… Katsuki, your teacher is hot”

Thank you so much for reading ! If you want to join in my daydream, consider checking out my navigation.

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[lucy90712]

Road to recovery- part 2

masterlist Lola's POV

It's been a long week waiting for my surgery as I haven't been able to do much as they don't want me to cause more damage by walking around too much. As someone who is always active and barely sits down this week has been hell but today has been the worst. Knowing that it is surgery day but having to wait sat in a hospital has been torture seeing everyone else get called while I just sit and wait has been awful. Until today I wasn't nervous about the surgery but the longer I've had to wait the more anxious I've become as there's a big risk I means the surgery could not go to plan and then I may never compete again and that's a scary thought. My life has been dedicated to sport even my degree is sport related as I wanted to have the knowledge that helps me understand my body better so if I can't do gymnastics again I don't know what I'll do with my life. 

Eventually I was called back and the nurses prepped me for surgery. I was given a gown to wear which they had to help me into as I can't put any weight on my left leg which makes changing difficult. They did some basic checks as well like measuring my heart rate and blood pressure before hooking me up to a few machines. Then it was time to go into the operating room which just felt so cold and clinical which I know it's supposed to be but it didn't help ease my feelings of anxiety that I was already feeling. Luckily someone then came in to give me the anaesthetic to put me to sleep which worked very quickly so before I knew it I was falling asleep. 

As my eyes opened and adjusted to the lights I noticed that they weren't as harsh as the ones in the operating room and the ceiling was different too. My brain was still slightly foggy but as I was coming to my senses I realised that I must be out of surgery which woke me up a little more and I finally looked down at my leg to see bandages where they had cut into my knee and a brace was already attached to my leg to limit its movement. Just as I was about to find the button to call a nurse one walked in and offered me a smile once she saw I was awake.

"How are you feeling Lola?" She asked 

"I'm ok did the surgery go well?" I asked 

"Yes it did we were able to repair your acl and the damage to your meniscus wasn't as bad as we feared so you didn't require any further work to fix that we are going to keep you over night just to monitor you and to start physio tomorrow morning" she explained 

"Thank you" I replied 

"Also I'm sorry that you are having to share this room but we are low on rooms and you two have the exact same injury so we thought it was best to put you together" she said

I was extremely confused until I looked to my right and saw a guy who looked weirdly familiar sat on his phone also with a brace on just his was on his right leg instead. I don't know how I didn't notice before as our beds are quite close together but I guess thats what anaesthesia does to you. Once the nurse left I turned my attention back to this random guy as I was curious as to who he was but he was yet to acknowledge my existence as he hadn't looked up from his phone. Seeing as he wasn't paying any attention I took my chance to study his face to see if I could work out where I recognised him from. I noticed that he looked to be about my age the the muscles in his arms told me that he was definitely an athlete too which only made me more curious. In my head I was trying to go through the sports where acl injures are common and the first sport that came to mind was football. With him looking my age and us being in Barcelona I assumed he was part of one of the youth teams but then I wondered why I recognised him as I'm really not that into football so I'd have no idea about any youth players. 

"Do you need something?" The guy asked coldly which made me realise I was still staring 

"Oh sorry I didn't mean to stare" I said

"Whatever" he scoffed going back to his phone again 

"Wait I um have to ask how did you end up here?" I asked 

"I was playing football and landed awkwardly on my knee" he explained 

"I'm sorry that sounds awful I hope this doesn't seem weird but I'm really not that into football but I recognise you from somewhere do you play for one of the Barcelona youth teams Barcelona atletic isn't it?" I asked 

"No I don't play for the B team I play for the first team" he said so nonchalantly like it meant nothing 

He had rendered me speechless with that. I simply couldn't think of anything else to say as my brain was preoccupied with freaking out over the fact that I was laying in a hospital bed in the same room as a Barcelona player. Football isn't my thing but that being said I know how hard those guys work and how crazy it is to find yourself in the situation I am right now. Once my brain had come to terms with the fact that I was next to an actual well known athlete I realised I still wasn't completely sure who he was so I found my phone amongst all my stuff and went straight to Instagram. I went onto Barcelona's account and the first thing I saw was a post with the guy sat right next to me. Gavi. That's who he is the big star boy of the team that's why I recognised him there was a time when he was all anyone talked about whether that was because of his footballing abilities or how attractive they thought he was. Of course I had to look at his Instagram and after scrolling through a few pictures I decided to follow him. It's not like I'm ever going to see him again after we leave this hospital plus he won't even notice he already has millions of followers. 

What a day. No one is going to believe me when I try and tell them that I spent my time in hospital with Gavi and honestly I wouldn't believe me either but here we are. Good thing he doesn't seem to want to talk to anyone as I don't know if I could hold a conversation with him for more than a few seconds now I know who he is. 

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #24: Heather Performs A Lobotomy

Masterlist

content: lab whump, captivity, immortal whumpee, organ stuff, drugging, needles/injections

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Heather knew he was asleep, one afternoon, barely moving to breathe and curled up tightly under the blanket. She shook him, but he didn’t stir. She had given him the drug a few minutes earlier under the guise of another painkiller. When she shone a light in his eyes, he did not react at all, and she was certain she could proceed with her work.

Keeping him awake, while effective in sending a message, was inconvenient for dissections she actually needed to have done. Heather had mostly worked on cadavers during her education. Cadavers did not plead or beg and, most importantly, they kept perfectly still. For this, she wanted to be precise. 

She placed him on the dining table, with a tarp underneath, then tied her hair back and pulled on her gloves. She was curious to see what was under that skull of his—the brain, that is. It would be a difficult procedure to enact. Permanent damage was possible, of course, and she simply didn’t know how to go about it. Saw through bone or dig through the back of the eye? It would be good to have samples of brain tissue, but cutting through a skull was much more complicated than simply pushing under the soft parts of the face. And, anyways, it was better to start with something small before she got ahead of herself.

Heather steadied the needle over his face, as she pried his eyelids open with her other hand. She wasn’t exactly sure how quickly an injury like this would heal. He had recovered nearly instantly from the bullets. He didn’t seem to change much after burning to death, either.

The needle slid easily behind the curve of the eye. She remembered the way her psychology professor had described it: severing a connection of nerves, and therefore severing some part of the self that acted and was able to feel. It blunted a part of the soul. Although this was not the time to be superstitious; such theological concepts would be of no use to her. She was getting distracted.

She hesitated, then pushed the needle in.

Something gave way underneath it. She winced. I definitely hit something… Something wet and yielding had been punctured. Or cut. And that was all she needed to do. She slid the needle out, watching as a thin line of blood pulled off its underside like spit from teeth. To ensure the effect would last, she pushed the needle into his other eye.

Jackie shifted. She nearly dropped the needle.

He was tensing up, moving, waking up. I must have given an incorrect dosage. It was always a risk, when some drugs did nothing at all for him, and others would only work in lethal amounts. He opened his other eye. His gaze moved slowly, unfocused as it passed over her.

She pried the needle out. A bit of blood speckled his face, but he didn’t react. 

“I have a headache,” he said, slurring the words.  

“How much does it hurt? One to ten.”

He shrugged. He tried to get up from the table.

She clicked her tongue and gently pressed him onto his back. “No. Stay there. There’s something I need to do. You won’t move, right?”

He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t move either.

Luckily, she had guessed this might happen, so she had already prepared lidocaine to administer local anaesthesia. It wouldn’t put him to sleep, but it would numb him. She placed the injection above the side of his neck, below the jaw.

“What’s your favourite colour?” she asked as she pressed down on the injection. 

“I don’t have one.”

“Really? I thought you would.” She removed the injection. He’s coherent, she thought, and he’s answering my questions, but he doesn’t seem to be reacting appropriately to the situation. Jackie usually didn’t like the idea of surgery. Either it was the drugs, or she truly had damaged some part of his brain. That’s still a minor cut, though. I want to see how a fatal injury would heal.

While the anaesthetic took effect, she prepared her scalpel, the drill, and the electrical bone saw. Jackie stayed quiet and still for his part, which she was happy to see. When she cut the skin open and drilled through the skull, eventually cutting it away, he didn’t even wince.

She reached into the inward valley of his skull and inserted the saw into the centre of the frontal lobe. It was incredibly difficult to cut out. The knotted pink flesh healed almost immediately. Nevertheless, she managed with some time and a lot of splattered blood, after which she placed the halved organ into a large glass jar.

Even cut out of him, pressed against the glass, it was reforming, albeit not as well as it should have been—becoming misshapen against the walls of its container, running out of space to mold with and soon slowing down its growth. She set the jar down on the kitchen counter and shook her wrist out. Her arm felt sore already.

The tarp shifted and crackled behind her. 

Heather spun around to see Jackie sitting upright, touching his newly-healed head and glancing at his unbloodied palm with mild curiosity.

“Don’t—” She marched over and seized both his hands. “You’re a terrible patient. I told you to stay still.”

“Sorry. You shoulda tied me down, doc.” He still seemed to be mostly out of it. It was a fairly powerful concoction of drugs, after all. He gave her a loopy, puppy-dog grin, smiling despite the severe head wound like the big idiot he was…

She smiled back—then she immediately turned away from him. I can’t give him the wrong idea! Ruining my work the first chance he gets. He thinks he’s hilarious, doesn’t he?  “I was being nice by forgoing the restraints, but I’ll keep that in mind for the next experiment.”

“What’s that jar on the counter?” he asked, leaning forwards. “Wait, I’ll guess—”

“It's none of your concern.” She picked up her notebook and pen and wrote a few things down. “Now, Jackie, I know you might not be in your right senses after all that. I need you to listen to me carefully and answer my questions to the best of your ability. I cut out a significant part of your frontal lobe. In a typical human being, this would result in death, or at least unconsciousness.”

“But I’m special.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. We don’t know if the damage is permanent yet. I’ll start with testing your memory and such. What’s your last name?”

“What’s a last name?” he asked innocently. 

“Don’t play games with me.”

He batted his eyelashes.

She sighed. “If you behave, I’ll give you a lollipop.”

“My name is Jackie Rockwell,” he said. “Twenty-one, born and raised in the States, about five-foot-seven. There are eighteen groups in the periodic table. The smallest land animal is the Etruscan shrew. Level, racecar, and radar are all examples of common palindromes.”

“Smartass.”

“Chienne.”

“Cabrón.” 

“I’m still waiting for my lollipop, doc.”

Pequeña comadreja. Silently, she pulled out a lollipop from her pocket and handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, tearing the plastic off. “You were saying?”

“Right. As I was saying, I think it’s safe to assume the removal of brain matter did not affect your memory or speech. Your nervous system doesn’t change when it heals. I was afraid—” She stopped herself. Heather knew he would be fine. He always recovered. She had already set him on fire, and he had survived even that unscathed. It was just a shallow worry, nothing worth putting words to. “In any case, I’m glad that went over without any complications.”

“And what if something went wrong? Would you not care?” 

“Nothing would…” She glanced at him. He had stopped smiling. This wasn’t a joke, apparently. “You don’t seriously think I would have let that happen, right?”

He shook his head, and his voice was sunny again. “No, you’re right. You’re completely incapable of making mistakes. I should have known. Why did I even bother to ask?” He sat up and got off the table. “What’s the time?”

“It’s half-past eight.” 

“Well, I’m exhausted from doing nothing all day.” He held the lollipop like a cigarette between his teeth. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’ll take you to your room.”

Still, she was a little put-off by his sudden distrust towards her. There was something almost caustic in his cheerfulness. Maybe she was overthinking that. He was probably just acting out to get attention, the same as always. She decided to push it out of her mind and focus on other, more immediate issues. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

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@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation

[whumpy-daydreams]

Waking up and recovery

Masterlist

So you're all stitched up, but you're still asleep? Guess we'd better wake you up then!

This either happens in the operating room or in recovery, but is mostly the same. The anaesthetist turns off the anaesthetic gas and gives a muscle relaxant reverser. Then you just wait.

Usually within 15 minutes the patient will start waking up. Everyone is slightly different. Some people will flap their hands a bit but are still asleep, others wake up all at once.

What you're looking for is that they can follow a basic command - opening their eyes, squeezing a hand, lifting their head up. This is proof that they can protect their airway and it's safe to remove the et tube.

The cuff on the tube gets deflated and the tube is just pulled out. It usually smells a bit gross by the way. An oxygen mask goes on immediately, and if they get laryngospasm (the vocal chords spasm) then we give positive pressure (force oxygen into their lungs with a bag).

If they were woken up in the OR, they'll go to recovery now. The anaesthetist will bugger off really fast once the tube's out, and the recovery practitioner takes over.

Most patients are very very sleepy after anaesthesia. This is generally fine and makes it easier to do all the paperwork. The recovery nurse will take observations every five minutes, and will look at the surgical site to check for bleeding.

If everything's peachy then the patient will go back to the ward after 30 minutes, otherwise we just wait until all their vital signs are stable and there's no signs of deterioration. If the patient's in a lot of pain they'll get some pain relief (usually morphine).

Congrats! The journey's finished! (well, in the surgical department anyway)

[aswallowimprisoned]

Restless far from a Wine Dark sea - Sedation

Nurse Brunel checks in on a post-sedated vampiric merman to find their captive with significantly fewer inhibitions than normal..

Tw captivity, sedation, medical whump, drugging, injury, Dead Dove Jewish vampiric whumpee, religious whumpee

RestlessffaWDs' timeline is going off piste for @medwhumpmay

masterlist

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set maybe a month or two into Nathaniel Fogal's captivity. This is the first snippet that features Dr Elias Freid, a psychologist/therapist who is Nathaniel's main interrorgator alongside Logan.

≪ °❈° ≫

“This is Nurse Ivan Brunel, Post Sedation check on the merman known as Fogal, mer patient #3.” Ivan went through the familiar recording of medical protocol. “Due to the negative after effects of thiobarbiturates on the wellbeing and mood of the patient, anaesthesia for this set of tests was achieved using Propofol.” He snapped on fresh blue gloves as the pneumatic doors hissed open to reveal the sleeping form of the merman bound to his hospital bed. “It has been 30 minutes since the cessation of anaesthetics and removal of airway support, so patient is expected to be still experiencing significant sedative effects… And our resident mer psychologist Elias Freid is in observation bay to assess behaviours and provide therapeutic guidance if required...”

Ivan gave one last check of the monitor displaying the mermans blood oxygen, before unhooking the oxygen mask from his face and replacing it with nasal cannulas. Within moments, the sea monster’s face crinkled with the start of wakefulness at the smell of a human in the room, and he rolled his head to regard him, blinking sleepily.

“Glad to see you awake Fogal. We put you to sleep for a while, and I know you are probably still pretty sleepy.” Ivan kept his voice soft and calm, a familiar routine for waking patients from their deep sleep. Fogal murmured something unintelligible.

“I am just going to flash a light in your eyes now,” Ivan gently steadied Fogal’s head in his hand as he checked his responses. The merman’s pupils were blown wide, barely reacting to the light shone on them.

“Pupils are dilated and slow to respond to stimuli, but he seems both semi-aware and calm.”

Fogal closed his eyes and pushed his head into the palm of Ivan’s hand, chittering softly.

Ivan stalled for a second, before brushing his fingers though the young man’s hair. No - Fogal was not a young man, he was an ancient bloodsucking sea monster who just looked like a young man. And who, going from the delighted whirring noises, really liked getting skritches.

“Is this ok?” Ivan asked, more to the psychologist on the other side of the 1 way mirror than to the snuggly merman.

“Yes,” Elias’ voice came through Ivan’s earpiece, “Though still be careful with those teeth. Drugged means unpredictable. This behaviour is fascinating to watch. Even if he would not normally engage in such displays of affection with any of the staff here, it does suggest that he may exhibit this behaviour towards loved ones in a less stressful environment.” Elias was contemplative, "I wonder if he would be the same with someone he doesn’t like, say Dr Rana?” He was tapping information into the computer, the keys audible over the comms. “I mean, we know mer live in groups, so he is likely to be… touch starved. I do hope we can allow the captive mer to have social bonds sometime later in the project, but allowing touch when semi-sedated may be a good sign he trusts you to some degree...” 

 “I guess someone really likes Propofol.” Ivan smiled softly, “It is nice to see him calm. Even if that calm comes out a bottle.” Ivan moved to stroke the top of the merman’s head, and he let out another slew of chittering squeaks, drooling effusively.

“Indeed.” Elias hummed, “Do you reckon he is going to remember this next time he wakes up?”

“Vaguely. The levels of sedative in his system shouldn’t be high enough for complete memory loss, even if they have affected his behaviour...” Ivan replied.  

“Ok Fogal,” he raised his voice, and the merman focused his gaze on him, “Do you think you can describe how you are feeling right now, and if you are in pain?”

Fogal frowned comically before slurring out an affirmative noise.

“Ok…” Ivan swiped the merman’s doll out of the box at the end of the bed. The communication doll was one of the first tools Elias had introduced when he had started as the merman’s therapist, “Can you point on the doll where it hurts?”

Fogal groped clumsily at the doll’s arm, where Ivan knew the merman had a comminuted fracture to the ulna , then poked all round the top of the toy’s tail, mirroring the placement of the stab wounds on his body. All areas where he was expected to feel pain, but maybe some pain medication might not go amiss.

“Ok. And do you feel sick? or dizzy?”

A low hum for both assured Ivan that negative side effects of the Propofol seemed minimal. 

 “...And do you feel like you want to hurt anyone or yourself right now?”

Fogal shook the doll’s head. Then he started to stroke the stuffed merman’s hair. Ivan had to stifle a laugh as he ruffled his hair. “Good job answering questions, I just have a few more things to do, you can just doze off if you want.”

“That was good non-verbal communication!” Elias sounded impressed, “Propofol is looking good for the retention of awareness and reduction of anxiety.”

Ivan smiled as he put on his stethoscope and listened to the steady beat of the mermans heart. Fogal didn’t mind the cold metal, concentrating instead on wiping the plush merman doll’s head against his hip, crooning gently at the soft material against his bare skin. Ivan enjoyed the quiet - Fogal didn’t always wake up so calmly, the thiobarbiturates they had been using for anaesthetics triggering what appeared to be quite intense PTSD flashbacks. He peacefully allowed Ivan to use the tympanic membrane temperature probe, check his urine output into the box on the side of the bed, and other post-anaesthetic checks. 

“All done and looking healthy, Fogal. You can go back to sleep now. Can you give me the doll?”

Fogal looked up at him with watery eyes, glancing down to his doll then back up at Ivan.

“P’ease?” the merman asked hopefully.

“Dr Freid? Please advise.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Allow him to keep the doll Nurse.” There was a determined note to Elias' voice. “Unlike the previous situation where he tried to take something, the doll is not a choking hazard and has been requested fairly politely. Though this shall be discussed with Logan as his other handlers, I believe that having a possession will aid in a sense of security, and that the doll has great potential for further use as a communication tool."

Ivan gave the merman's hair one last ruffle. 

"Ok Fogal, you can keep a hold of it. Now let's get you back to sleep, ok?"

--888--

Nathaniel awoke theto the heavy tread of Nurse Brunel. Memories came back in dregs. Dr Rana had put him to sleep, so they must have done something to his body, though there were no new spots of pain...

“Hey Fogal, how are you feeling?”

His hands hadn’t cramped up as much as usual. They were clamped around something soft and thick, far better than the thin sheets he usually balled up in place of seaweed. He creased his brows and held up the item as best he could with his wrist still bound to the bed. 

The stupid rag doll stared back at him.

Nathaniel cocked his head in confusion, and looked up questioningly to his favourite nurse. 

“We sedated you for some tests, do you remember?”

Nathaniel nodded slowly, then wiggled the doll at him questioningly.

“When I went to check on you afterwards, you really wanted to keep a hold of the communication doll there. And Elias thought it may be useful for you to have him with you anyway.”

Nathaniel looked down at the soft little plush merman. His tail was the same pleasant deep red as Nathaniel’s own tail, his sewn-on expression one of peaceful neutrality.

He squished the doll’s head gently. A strange half memory rose of petting the doll's hair, and then of gentle fingers carding through his hair. Nathaniel scowled.

What would his interrogator think of him if he saw Nathaniel wanted to keep a toy?

- I. no. need. stupid. Communication doll. - He signed, trapping the doll under his wrist to form the words. 

“That’s ok too, Fogal.” Nurse Bruel spoke peaceably, “And you can let me know if you change your mind. Can you keep a hold of it while I check your eyes?”

Nathaniel nodded, and Nurse Brunel stepped forwards with a tiny bright light. Nathaniel surreptitiously shuffled Little Fogal under the sheet. He could barely see the little lump the doll made under the covers. He tucked it into the fabric and rested his hand back by his side. 

“Looking good, no post-sedation signs. I can take your oxygen mask off now.” Nurse Brunel took the bulky plastic off his face. Nathaniel wiggled his jaw.

- Thank you - He signed.

“No problem, Fogal. I’ll let you pray now, and Elias will be through for a session once you are done…”The nurse glanced down to Nathaniel's empty hand next to the little doll shaped lump, and the slightest smile appeared on his face. Nathaniel watched him warily, but all the nurse did was give him a swift gentle pat on the wrist before turning to leave the room.

Nathaniel squeezed his new possession once, and settled into prayer.