#How can I lower my blood pressure immediately today?

[sachinbiher]

रक्तचाप क्या है || रक्तचाप का नियंत्रण कैसे करें।

रक्तचाप क्या है रक्तचाप शरीर के रक्त के दबाव को निर्दिष्ट करने वाला एक माप है। यह दबाव दो अंकों के रूप में मापा जाता है। उच्च रक्तचाप एक सामान्य स्वास्थ्य समस्या होती है जो बीमारी या मृत्यु की एक प्रमुख वजह होती है। उच्च रक्तचाप अक्सर किसी अन्य समस्या का एक लक्षण होता है जैसे अस्थमा, मधुमेह और अन्य रोग। उच्च रक्तचाप के कुछ सामान्य लक्षण हैं जिनमें शामिल हैं: तनाव, चक्कर आना, सिरदर्द, निंद ना आना,…

[leasstories]

Everyone deserves to live

Based on the prompt: “I’m scared you will hurt yourself even more.” By @creativepromptsforwriting.

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: Mentions of failed attempts, blood, self-harm,

WC:  1K

You currently are – well were- in remission from self harm. But something happened today at school, Jason and his goons might have told you that a freak like you didn’t deserve to live.

They hit a sensitive spot and they knew it before the words left their mouth. It is purposefully why they said it.

You don’t mind being called a freak. The second part is what struck a nerve. You also don’t think you deserve to live. You have ended up in the hospital several times from trying to take the easy way out. Jason knows, hell the entire school knows about your failed attempts. This is how, you have ended up at the pic-nick table behind the football field, relapsing.

You took out a pencil sharpener, the only thing that you had on you, to create angry red marks on your already scarred skin.

Eddie found you a few moments later, arms bleeding, sobbing, and cutting yourself at the pic-nick table. Eddie runs to you, panic etched on his face.

“Sweetheart…” he says, voice breaking and willing himself not to cry.

You raise your eyes towards Eddie, not stopping the cutting. When your eyes meet Eddie’s, they well up in tears.

Eddie softly lowers your hand holding the blade before taking the bloody pencil sharpener blade in his own hands.

“What happened?” he asks, worried and fumbling with the bandana in his back pocket to take it off.

You shake your head, still crying. “I’m so sorry…” you repeat over and over. Eddie gently takes your arm and wrap it up with the bandana which is immediately soaked with blood.

Eddie’s heart breaks at seeing you like this. He cups your face in his big warm hands and make you look at him.

“Hey, hey stop apologizing. Breathe baby, breathe.” Eddie says as calmly as he can.

You follow Eddie’s breathing patterns which helps you calm down a bit. While you try to calm down, Eddie puts some pressure on your bandana covered arm to help the bleeding stop.

“What happened?” he asks again.

“Does it matter?” you ask, sniffling.

“It matters to me.” Eddie answers seriously. “You were doing so good baby; I need to know what triggered it.”

“I just relapsed because I’m weak.” You shrug.

“Baby… I’ve been here every step of the way, even in the end it wasn’t that bad. I need to know what happened. I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself even more.” Eddie says, concerned.

You sniffle once more. “Jason said something to me and it… it kinda got to me, I guess?” you say not going into any more details.

“What did he say?” Eddie asks, starting to get angry.

“It doesn’t matter…” you say not wanting to make Eddie angry even more.

“Sweetheart, it made you relapse so of course it matters. What did that dickhead say to you?” Eddie asks again.

You look at the ground. “He said out loud what people think, what I think… He said and I quote ‘a freak like you does not deserve to live’.”

Eddie clenches his jaw hard, getting angrier by the second.

“He said what?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his cool in front of you. The last thing you need right now is him being angry and he knows that. He knows that you need someone there for you right now. You need love and reassurance not hatred directed at stupid Jason Carver.

“The truth.” You say.

“Stop that baby. You deserve to live. First of all, everyone deserves to live. Secondly, you are an amazing, strong person. You are loved and you disappearing would break people’s heart. It would break my heart.” He says, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

You start sobbing again and as you do, Eddie helps you up and lead you to his van.

He drives the both of you to his trailer and sits you on his bed. Eddie runs to the bathroom, he takes some antiseptic, gauze as well as bandages and comes back into his bedroom to tend to your wounds.

Eddie starts by taking the bandana off of your bleeding arm before putting some antiseptic on the gauze.

Eddie can see that while he puts the antiseptic on your wounds, you won’t look at him. He knows you well and he knows you are ashamed.

“Baby, there is nothing to be ashamed of.” He says softly.

As you don’t answer, Eddie keeps going.

“I am going to help you, I’m here for you baby. We are going to start over, take baby steps, ‘kay?” Eddie tells you reassuringly.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Eddie throws the used gauze in the bin and bandages your arm.

“All bandaged up!” he says, kissing the bandage.

“Thank you.” You sincerely say, still avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

“You know I’ll be here every step of the way, right?” Eddie tells you sincerely, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“I know… thank you and sorry again.” You say still looking at your knees.

“Ice cream and a movie?” Eddie asks.

You nod. Eddie and you spent the night at his place and he has been nothing but sweet. He kept taking care of you and promised he is not mad at you. He kept repeating that he is proud of how long you’ve been self-harm free before the relapse and tells you how you can do it again. Your grateful to have Eddie in your life. He never judged you once, always there to listen, to try to understand and to support you through it all. You know today has been hard on him as well, you know how worried he is about you, so when he falls asleep, his warm breath fanning over your skin, you smile before kissing his forehead.

“Thank you,” you whisper before closing your eyes.

[matenrou-fan]

three seperate scenario of toki, jakurai, ichiro waking up really horny and slowly fucking their s/o? she is laying in front of them and they lift her leg to slip in from behind (but it's not anal lol!)

uhhh I am so so sorry idk any pthing about OM so i can't request :(

Samatoki, Jakurai, Ichiro with fem!s/o (+morning sex)

femreader, humping, fingering (receiving), rough sex;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-Despite he's such an overprotective softie in relationships, there's also a pretty naughty side of him, so Samatoki never would be that ashamed of seeing some wet dreams that involve you, he's only enjoying it. But it's really rare when he wakes up that horny after such a good sleep.

-But it's actually neither the first nor last time he felt such desire after lewding you in dreams. If you sleep at this moment, he prefers to just go to the bathroom and calm himself down, but sometimes it's really too much and his own hand won't help. Just like today, a copy of you in his mind was just too bold in his fantasies.

-So Samatoki just move to your closer, hugging from behind. He probably should do the opposite, as the soft scent of your warm skin just makes his dick twitch more, but he can't, it's like his hands freeze around your waist the second he wraps his arms around your body.

-"Babe.. Babe, are you sleeping?" - A low, hoarse after night voice slowly wakes you up, and even while being so sleepy, you can't help but notice how hot it actually sounds. - "Heh, what with this smile? You already know what I want?"

-Of course you know, because as soon as you open your eyes and look at the pale face of your boyfriend, his hands lowered to your hip. Oh, and you can feel this pressure against your butt when he leans closer to your smaller figure.

-But no matter how horny Samatoki are, he wants to heat your mind too, playing with your body a little before actually pushing himself inside. His arms already know all your sensitive places, squeezing your nipples between fingers while his glans stroking your folds through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

-During casual sessions your boyfriend loves to make you the one to whine for more, yet today there's not that much patience in his nerves. So pretty soon, when his dick would slowly soak in your juices, Samatoki finally pulled down your shorts and slowly but surely thrust in till the very end.

-Getting too carried away is definitely one of the points in the list of bad habits of your boyfriend.. As he doesn't give a single fuck about how many responsibilities and tasks waits for him outside your shared bedroom, he wouldn't stop until you two get enough of each other bodies.

-And trust me, as soon as you start calling his name in such a desperate voice, all last thought would fade away from his mind as Samatoki just wants to keep pounding you senseless.

-For him, it's very unusual to suddenly feel such an unsuppressable urge, especially early in the morning, when he just wakes up and immediately starts thinking about you and your body, sleeping next to him.

-A usual morning routine for Jakurai is to get up and check his blood pressure and temperature, yet today there's another problem that needs to be solved - his half hardened dick, that keeps pulsing in his home shorts.

-He probably should just quickly take a shower and deal with his fantasies all alone? Yet even for someone with great patience and self-control as Jakurai, it's kinda hard to resist this wish to touch your shoulder or to lean closer to your smooth hair. The sweet aroma of your shampoo is so luring..

-Small, light kisses on the neck would quickly wake you up, and only after that Jakurai would cling closer, wrapping his hands around your waist. Some deep shame would tickle his chest, aren't he too old to be so needy? Yet it feels like words escape his lips faster than he was able to think about them properly.

-"Ah.. Good morning, my dear.. The morning has just begun, but I think I'm already falling for your charm again.." - your lover whispers right in your ear, sending electric waves of goosebumps down your spine. - "So I hope you will forgive me for such impudence.."

-Even in an internal frenzy, Jakurai so soft and loving, thinking about your pleasure even more than about his own, as he doesn't want to just use you. Despite waking up absolutely hungry for your body, there's an even bigger appetite for intimate emotions in his soul, the real connection..

-So everything would be gentle and passionate, as always when Jakurai is being a dom. Preparing you long and well with his slim fingers, while you pressing your back to his warm chest, mewling in pleasure.. Sweet nothings and small praises in your ear as he slowly slides inside, pushing your clenching walls.

-And of course so much attention to your lips, chest and clit, as he slowly starts trusting in, enjoying the wet tightness of your pussy. Only your ardent reaction through small whimpers and lazily, but needy movements of your hips makes his arousal stronger. Only your desire raises his desire to the highest point.

-How lucky you both are, to not have any work shifts today.. As it seems Jakurai wouldn't have enough of your adorable morning cumming face after just one round.

-Well.. Even in his pure mind sometimes can awoke a few naughty thoughts, especially when he can't control his mind and it shows him the deepest desires of his soul.

-And probably the one who would wake up first today would be you, as these desperate whimpers behind you get too loud, and his arms trembling so much as Ichiro cling closer to you, shyly calling your name through sweet dreams.

-How can you not tease him a little? Leaning back to press yourself to his shaking with deep, unsteady breaths, chest. Maybe whisper his name a few times too, while wiggling your hips a bit to grind back, rubbing against a hard twitching bulge in his pajama pants.

-"M.. S/o, s/o, I'm so close.." - a sudden loud gasp breaks from his chest as Ichiro finally wakes up with a nagging ache between his thighs and notices your sly grin. - "A-ah, s/o, g-good morning…! Did I wake you up…?"

-He always feels so ashamed when you catch him like that! Yet sometimes it feels like his dick gets even harder in such situations, happy to finally get more attention. And the way you coo at your boyfriend, willing to help with such a shameful urge drew him to follow this primal instinct.

-The dream is so realistic but never enough, and he's too hungry for just the warmth of your skin and the sweet odours of your body. So for a few minutes Ichiro just wants to feel you more, to calm down his tickling mind through hot kisses and libidinous foreplay with your chest, while his dick keeps humping against your hips so fast and needy.

-And oh how amusing yet arousing his groans sound when his trembling hand finally lifts your leg, allowing him to slip in. For a moment he just froze in place, as he always does after getting inside you fully, just enjoying how pulses of your walls wrapped around his whole length.

-And after that.. Some unsteady, sloppy movements, that quickly speed up as Ichiro whines more and more right in your ear just how tight you are early in the morning. Just how good it feels, to be greeted with your delicious pussy like that. Best wake up in his life.

-God.. Just how lucky you're that both Jiro and Saburo stayed overnight in their friends houses, as these loud slaps of hips to hips and weak but loud high pitched moans would be heard all over the house for a whole morning today.

[triforce-of-mischief]

ok kids, it's time to get some facts straight about the pediatrician.

as a big sister with a history of trypanophobia and related medical trauma, i don't want anybody else to go through what i did. these may not technically be examples of classic abuse, but too many factors of my trauma have been normalized to the point that i didn't question any of it until i was in college. if it's safe for you to do so, please talk to a trusted adult if you can relate to any of these issues. you deserve to be treated right 💜

one more note: "kid" refers to anybody visiting the pediatrician, everybody up to 18 years old usually

normal: a kid is nervous about going to the doctor

not normal: a kid suffers from chronic nightmares, anxiety, and panic attacks for a prolonged amount of time (weeks before an appointment, years after a traumatic visit)

normal: a kid has high blood pressure when entering the doctor's office due to anxiety

not normal: a nurse lies to a kid ("you won't need vaccines today") in an attempt to lower their blood pressure

normal: a kid is given a consent form asking if they're comfortable with the doctor checking their private parts

not normal: a kid's guardian forces them to sign "yes" and consent to the doctor checking their private parts

normal: a doctor asks a kid's guardian to leave the room for a few minutes during the exam so the kid can ask questions they don't feel comfortable asking around their guardian

not normal: a kid's guardian is not asked to leave the room during the exam, and the kid is not given the opportunity to ask questions they don't feel comfortable asking around their guardian

normal: a kid is scared of vaccines, and resorts to their 'fight reflex'

not normal: a kid is not taught any coping strategies for fear or offered any comfort during a scary procedure

normal: a kid is hugged or held by their guardian (or even a nurse) during a scary procedure

not normal: a kid is immediately pinned down/physically restrained by their guardian and/or one or more nurses during a scary procedure

^note: this will be near-impossible to negotiate during the procedure, as fear and logic do not mix well. if you can, try to make a plan before an appointment with your trusted adult in case you panic before/during a procedure so their first resort isn't to restrain you

normal: a kid is comforted and their fear is validated after a scary procedure

not normal: a kid is invalidated, shamed, and ridiculed for their fear, privately or publicly

ideal: if a kid is anxious about vaccines, they will receive them at the beginning of the exam or on a separate day entirely so their nerves do not interfere with the appointment

not ideal: vaccines are always administered at the end of the appointment, prolonging a kid's anxiety and messing with their mood and responses during the exam

^note: this may be even harder to negotiate, as your trusted adult may not want to schedule an extra appointment and the nurses will likely be rigid in their routine

remember: your feelings are valid, your trauma is real, and your consent is yours to give. no matter how young you are, your rights shouldn't be buried under people believing that you're just a kid who doesn't know better. i may not always have advice, but i'm here if you need somebody who can sympathize 💜

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor

This is my first time really giving writing G/t content a try. The concept is that this is a newly integrated world where both Giants & Humans co-exist...or at least they try to as much as they can.

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

Chapter: Prologue - The City of Epherton  

My heart was in my throat as I watched…no felt them walk by the coffee shop I was ordering a chai latte in. I looked around to the other patrons in the coffee shop to see that no one else in line seemed to notice it as much as I did. I looked around the café while I waited for my name to be called, to see how others might be reacting to the tremors but everyone was still preoccupied with their own drinks, the works on their laptops or even chatting with friends. It was like I imagined the tremors that emitted from the floor, but I know I hadn’t, not in this city. As my adrenaline levels lowered, I focused on keeping my breathing rhythmic & steady, trying to keep myself looking cool & collected, like I belonged here.

“CAIN!” Yelled the middle aged ginger woman sliding my chai latte across the counter to the pick-up area, spiking my blood pressure once more. However, looking at my drink made it a lot easier to calm down, as I had something else to focus on. I could immediately taste the warm cinnamon & cloves taking the first sip which got a relaxed, deep sigh from me; one I had been holding onto for the last hour. The train ride in was anxiety inducing as it was, but to actually be here, was a whole new experience. As I exited the coffee shop, I put my sunglasses on & pulled my beanie down, keeping my eyes straight forward in an attempt not to gawk at the enormous humanoid figures across the street. This is my first time visiting Epherton, so I did not want to make any trouble for myself by offending anyone. 

Walking down the street & to my appointment, I could not help but allow myself a glance or two at the giants that seemed to surround me & the other Humans who walked the sidewalk. When I did look up, I could feel my stomach drop into my shoes, watching these giants boldly exist in front of me, an embarrassing reaction to something it seems most humans here have become okay with. I could see people, no, giants, ignoring us who walk across the street, laughing and having lives like regular people. It was weird to watch them like I was some fly on the wall, but reminded myself very quickly not to be caught staring at them, per the suggestion of all my friends and family. For every 10-Humans, there was only 1 giant, so although we outnumbered them 10 to 1, it did not matter in my eyes. One giant could take down hundreds of Humans if they really wanted to, and many have. It is why this city is so special, because it allows for an integrated existence for both Humans & giants. It is the first of its kind to ever exist, “Epherton: A City of the Future” many called it, but I deemed it a place I would circumvent until I no longer could & today was the day I could no longer avoid it. 

So then, why am I here at all? Well, the housing market is garbage & I am a 21 yr old who can’t afford much. This town is full of young people, giant & Human alike, looking to plant roots & start lives of their own. Like so many others in this city, I am looking for affordable housing & I am weighing my options by exploring the Integration Housing Program that Epherton is offering. I am not unique in my reason for being here, from what I am observing, but I am unique in my attitude towards them. However, that is something I plan on keeping to myself for now. After about a 20min walk, I find myself at the Human entrance of the government sanctioned apartment building where I will be inquiring about the Integration Housing Program. I looked at the other side of the property, which was sectioned off with a 10ft concrete wall, but that hardly would stop any giant if they wanted to just step over it. I look to see giants coming & going on the other side of the property. There is a man holding the apartment door open for a giantess who has her hands full with a box of some sort, there is a gardener who is trimming some trees which are being used for décor & a giant man smoking on his balcony. It was pretty humdrum activity for beings who were easily towering at 60-85ft respectively. I shuttered a little bit before steeling my nerves once again, reminding myself to play it cool if I want a chance at this program. I opened the door to a fluorescent-lit office space with a wall lined with bronze lock & key mail boxes, a buzzing from the ventilation system & a shiny waxed floor I could almost see my reflection in. I approach the front desk with a false bravado & cheap smile “Hello, I am here for a 1:00pm apartment tour for Cain Wagner?” The front desk attendant, a portly, older man with a graying mustache and balding head sits up with a smile “Welcome to Hedge Heights, I will be your guide this afternoon!” 

||| Next

[landosgirl97]

Heart Rate - Bradley Bradshaw

A/N: This could maybe have a part 2 if y’all want one. Let me know.

After Bradley and Maverick got back from the uranium mission and after a massive celebration on the tarmac, they sent Mav and Bradley to the local base hospital. After they were both ejected from aircrafts, it was Navy policy that they be evaluated regardless of if they looked fine or not. So, when they two men had showered and changed, they were driven to the hospital to be checked out. Maverick went first, leaving Bradley alone in the waiting room. “Bradley?” He heard a voice call. He turned around in his seat and saw a beautiful young nurse, (Y/E/C) shining and hair down, but partially pinned back out of her face. She had on seafoam colored, hospital given scrubs, that somehow hugged her body really well. She called again, “Bradley?” He stood, making his way toward her. “You’re Bradley?” He nods his head slowly, following you back so he’s sitting on the gurney behind a curtain. “So, please state your full name and date of birth before we get started.” He does, and you hand him a gown. “Ok, change out of your clothes and into the gown. You can keep you boxers on, I’ll be back here in a few minutes to get your vitals.” He just nods as you leave the room, closing the curtain behind her. Bradley let out a breath he had been holding and shook his head.

You knocked on the doorframe and heard a shaky, “come in”. You made your way inside, putting hand sanitizer on and walking toward him. “You seem nervous. I take it that you don’t spend much time in hospital?” He huffs out a laugh. “Nope. I spend most of my time in the air or at the Hard Deck.” You raise a brow. “Oh? Are you one of those naval aviator heroes from today?” A blush crossed his cheeks as he looked down, fiddling with the edge of the gown and nodding. “Wow, I’m honored to be working with you! So, first we are going to check you oxygen level and pulse, then I’ll move on to your blood pressure, then the doctor will come in and do a physical and you’re free to go! It should be quick and painless!” He nods, letting you hook him up to the wires and monitors and the bed. He clears his throat, “So, how long have you been a nurse?” You smile down at the cords you’re attaching lead patches to him to check his heart rhythm and rate. “Well, four almost five years in May.” He raises his eyebrow. “How old are you?” You chuckle. “I’m 25, almost 26.” He shakes his head and watches as you finish with the leads. “Ok Bradley, I need to untie the back of your gown for a moment so I can place these on your chest. Is that okay?” He nods his head, leaning forward for you to untie it. He shrugs the gown lower on his shoulders so it falls lower, showing his chest. Your breath hitches as you take in the sight before you. A very toned chest and abdomen with taut muscles and little tufts of chest hair. When he moves his arms to pull them out of the sleeves, you have to stop yourself from drooling at the sight of his biceps tensing. You don’t realize you’ve been caught staring unto your eyes trail up his neck, his sharp jawline and red cheeks to meet his eyes. You clear your throat, hoping he didn’t catch you staring for too long and you begin to tear the backs off of the leads. “Ok, so I’m going to place these on your chest and ribs, and then we will check your heart rate. Bradley was hoping you didn’t notice the goosebumps that raised on his skin when you touched his chest. You turned around to turn the monitor on, noticing the beeping immediately. “Looks like one of the leads isn’t securely on. I’m going to need to fix it. Is that okay?” Bradley nods again, gulping as your hands move back to his chest. You listened as you fixed the lead again, waiting for the dinging to stop. It did, but his heart rate increased rapidly. You turned to look at the monitor, “Hmm, your heart rate is pretty high, we are going to have to monitor that. Let me get your blood pressure and then I’ll get doctor.” You walk to him, wrapping the cuff around his large bicep and pressing the button for his blood pressure. You hear the cuff start to inflate and walk back to your computer, inserting his vitals for the doctor to see when she comes in. When his blood pressure reading is on the screen, you insert it into the computer and walk back to Bradley. “Okay Lieutenant, I’ll be back in a bit. Here’s your call light if you need anything.” “Thank you…” “Y/N.” You finish for him, smiling and walking out the curtain to get Dr. Brady. You let doc know about his heart rate and had her head in to check on him, sitting at your computer to finish some charting.

Some time later, Dr. Brady poked her head out of the curtain. “Y/N, can you come help me for a second?” I wondered what she needed my help with but proceeded anyway. I walked in the room and noticed her bandaging some small cuts on his face. “Okay, Lieutenant, that’s one side down, let’s get this other one finished and we will let you leave.” He nods, watching the doctor hand you some bandages. “Can you add some Steri-strips over that gash on his eyebrow?” I look at her curiously and she just smirked at you before continuing her work. You worked on a pair of gloves,then carefully took the Steri-strips off the packaging and made sure his skin was lined up correctly before placing them down. You hadn’t noticed that his heart rate shot back up with your hands on him again, but he had as he held his breath waiting for you to notice. You never did, but Dr. Brady did. When she finished with his other side, she pulled you aside. “I think I’ve figured out the heart rate problem..” she stated, looking at you expectantly. You looked at her curiously. “Without an EKG or anything? You’re good! What is it?” She rolls her eyes at your obliviousness and grips both of your shoulders lightly. “It’s you. When you’re in the room, especially touching him, it skyrockets. It was fine the whole time I was in there until I called you back in.” You looked at her stunned. “There’s no way that’s true.” She shakes her head and hands you a pen. “He has discharge instructions that need printed. I suggest you add your phone number to the bottom of that paperwork.” She winks at you and makes her way to the next patient.

It wasn’t until Bradley left the hospital with Maverick that he checked his paperwork. A large smile spreading across his face when he realized what was happening.

Y/N

789-234-0123

Call me, Lieutenant. Xx

[sambhavami]

Ehi Murare - Nagnajiti (Part 6)

Nagnajiti stood coyly, gently fanning her father and his esteemed guest with a chaamara. Today, her father was not sitting on the simhasana. He had taken up an ordinary seat while the dark-skinned guest sat on the King’s throne, the brilliantly carved sun glittering behind him. Nagnajiti smiled to herself. How apt it was that after an entire yuga, the Lord of Ayodhya had graced the throne of Kosala! Her father, Nagnajita, had himself taken a lower seat, as he also gazed at the man with reverent eyes.As she swayed the chaamara the peacock feathers on his crown waved at her. Occasionally he’d look up and smile at her. She politely smiled back, hoping her racing heart wasn’t beating as loudly as she thought. After such a long penance Krishna- her Krishna had finally come to Ayodhya!

---

She had heard of him ever since she was a child. As she had grown up, she had found herself falling in love with the stories of the multifaceted hero from the island nation. Then one day, her father summoned her to a secret meeting with the sages Narada and Vashishtha. They had informed her that the prince Krishna was deemed to be the reincarnation of Rama, the illustrious ancient King of their kingdom. Her father had informed her, overjoyed, that he would immediately invite the prince, to take over the reigns of his old kingdom, and in doing so, also accept the hand of Satya in marriage. It had taken an entire year for Krishna to find some time to visit Ayodhya. During that time, her devotion to the divine man had only increased. Satya had even developed a fever on the eve of his arrival, in anticipation.

When he had walked into her father's court, Satya had been enchanted with the casual confidence he exuded. Ignoring all social norms, she had rushed down from the queen's balcony and into the open court, defying the chagrined glares of the courtiers. Drawing his sword partially out of its sheath, she sliced her finger. With the blood drawing the sacred mark on his forehead. He had politely bent down to let her do it, but in the next moment, he had taken her palm in his and sucked at the blood, then holding the pressure himself until someone produced a cloth to tie it up. Blocking the soldiers who had rushed in with the first-aid kit, he had bandaged it up himself. Who else but a God would pardon such blatant forwardness in a woman and also treat her so kindly afterwards?!

---

Struggling to tear away her mind from the trickery of Kama, the god of attraction, Satya Kausalya, the daughter of King Nagnajit focused herself on the conversation between her father and the man. Even so, she felt as if her entire life had led up to this point.

Krishna spoke, “Dear Kosala-naresha, I have been informed that you wish for me to accept your daughter’s hand in marriage. Does your daughter share the intent?” He smiled at her again, while Nagnajiti blushed and lowered her eyes while she bit her finger, at the same time scratching the stone floor beneath her. “You can tell him dear.” Nudged her father. Satya coyly nodded her head in approval. Her father continued, “Although my Lord, there is but one obstacle in the path of this blessed union! I have sworn on my devotion to our Lord Sri Rama that my daughter shall only marry the man who is able to tame my seven ferocious bulls at the same time. I am aware it is a child’s play for you my Lord, yet I must request you to indulge my request!”

“Ah! So, this is the reason for such a great mercy on this mere cowherd, Maharaj!” Krishna said with a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “I will surely fulfil your oath, Sir.” Satya couldn't help but laugh at the subtle pun. She was pretty sure Krishna had winked at her encouragingly, but she couldn't decide if her brain was playing tricks on her. Why would a God go around flirting with a mortal, in front of her father no less?

The next morning Nagnajiti arrived at the bullfighting arena, garland in hand. Krishna was already there warming up. He had discarded his royal garments, choosing instead to wear a tight yellow dhoti like that of cowherds, the peacock feather still tied into his hair. Satya couldn't help but admire his commitment to the feathers. They said the only time he had gone out in public without those feathers was when killed the evil king Kamsa! She quietly bowed her head as he shot her a smile in acknowledgement. At this moment, Satya wondered if this was how Queen Seeta must have felt when her Rama had walked up to lift the divine bow in Mithila. She was so sure of Krishna's victory, but a chilling fear lingered behind the encouraging smile she put on for him.

Still smiling, Krishna tightened the cloth tied at his waist and rolling up a bundle of rope he threw it over his shoulder. As he entered the arena, King Nagnajit signalled for the seven bulls to be let out. Satya gasped as the aggressive animals all charged toward Krishna. Astonished, she stared as with a blinding flash, Krishna expanded into seven identical forms and advanced towards the bulls. Amidst the deafening cheers emanating from every corner of the arena, Kausalya watched as the seven forms of Krishna subdued the seven bulls. One he stopped by its horns, one he petted and another he shushed just like a human child. Gradually, his extra forms disappeared as the real Krishna tied up the bulls one by one and led them slowly towards King Nagnajit.

Satya felt tears rolling down her cheek as she rushed down the stairs of the altar to garland her now victorious Lord. Her father was clapping vigorously, practically jumping in excitement. The ladies adorning the balconies all started showering flower petals to bless the divine feat. Satya smiled at Krishna, who was grinning ear-to-ear. At that moment, to Satya's lovestruck eyes, he seemed so beautifully human. Satya couldn't help but whisper, "So would you stay here now, my King?"

Krishna laughed as he leaned into her, "Why? Wouldn't you like to come home with me? Anyway, I've had enough of being a king, the last time around." This time he clearly winked at her, drawing jealous gasps from the surrounding ladies, "It's not as fun as it looks. Come home with me as a princess, you'll find it a freer life."

"Really?" She whispered, "Can we go wherever we want, whenever?"

"Not exactly, but we get vacations." He laughed as he scratched his nose, "I'll take you to all the places I've been: the snowy mountains, the fields doused in petrichor and our own salty ocean. But only if you want!"

Satya nodded her head eagerly. As much as she loved Ayodhya, she couldn't wait for this next adventurous phase of her life.

[genuineformality]

Rules: List ten comfort movies and tag ten people. Or not. I’m not your boss.

Thank you for tagging me @taralkariel! I don’t watch a lot of movies these days, partially because the way our house is set up isn’t really conducive to that, but… I do have some that I think about all the time and bring me joy.

Here are my comfort movies in the order in which I thought of them:

Pride and Prejudice (2005): It’s such a pleasant adaptation. Is the 90s miniseries objectively a better adaptation in terms of closeness to source material? Probably. But this does such an incredibly beautiful job of capturing the essence of the novel and doing some really lovely things with showing the differences in class that exist between impoverished and wealthy gentlepeople which gets missed in a lot of regency romance adaptations.  

White Christmas (1954): I love this film. It’s only kind of a Christmas movie, in that it takes place over the Christmas holiday and features the Irving Berlin’s (noted Jewish composer) White Christmas, but let’s face it: it’s really a thin excuse to smash as many completely ridiculous dance numbers together with only the tiniest hint of a plot.

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992): Another completely ridiculous Christmas movie that I mostly love because it is probably the most faithful adaptation of A Christmas Carol that exists, even with the muppets. Possibly because of the muppets. I have a long, complicated history with Christmas (as someone who is Jewish; as someone whose mother tried to join cults a few times, and as a result, all holidays are weird; as someone with a lot of family trauma that often came to a head around holidays, both the ones we observed and sometimes especially when we were not observing them), but I found an uneasy détente with Christmas and now observe it in a way that makes sense for me and my (non-Jewish) family. So it seems weird that I have two Christmas movies on this list, but I cannot tell you how many good, fond, wonderful memories I have tied up with this movie. Just thinking about it lowers my blood pressure.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971): Angela Lansbury, my beloved. When I was growing up, we had a VCR and a very small collection of films on VHS, of which this was one. And this is definitely the one that I wore out through watching and rewatching. It’s such a weird, fun, lovely film.

The Birdcage (1996): Robin Williams and Nathan Lane clearly had so much fun making this. It’s a farce and looking at it any deeper than the surface means that the plot falls apart almost immediately, so you cannot take it seriously. And yet, it has such warmth and heart. I love this film, even though it has not aged well; even though it���s imperfect.

Empire Records (1995): What’s with TODAY, today? This came out when I was entering high school and it was the perfect film for that time in my life and it has remained a favorite ever since.

Auntie Mame (1958): Speaking of films that haven’t necessarily aged well, but are fun, hilarious, and heartfelt. Auntie Mame was a book (that also has not aged well) and was adapted to theater and film about making the best of the family you have and creating family from your friends as well as blood kin. My mom showed me this film when I was still in single digits and I knew then that my goal in life was to be Auntie Mame, the original wine aunt. And you know, I’m not doing a half bad job of it.

Galaxy Quest (1999): It’s the best star trek movie. Fight me.

Mystery Men (1999): It’s the best marvel movie. Fight me.

Persuasion (2007): Persuasion is my favorite Austen novel. When I was in high school/college, I was all about that Pride and Prejudice life, but as an adult (and one rapidly approaching middle age), I feel Persuasion to my core. There is something so incredibly human about grieving the life you might have had; of living with regrets and still living your life with as much integrity as you can; of having a terrible family and bearing with them; and of getting second chances that honestly were probably only available because of your lived experience, integrity, and living through that grief. Anne Elliot is my girl (and I’m actively mad about the Netflix adaptation, despite generally being very live and let live about adaptations being adaptations). Why is this one my comfort movie? Because this is the one that captured Anne for me. Sally Hawkins was beautiful casting and she shines with subtle, understated grace. 10/10, would Anne Elliot again.

Tagging (with no pressure whatsoever): @marycontraire, @saritasoyyo, @totchipanda, @capinejghafa, @whatanybodygets, @pyrrhlc, @tlonista, @feelinglikecleopatra; @jackwolfes; @carolinawrenn; @whimperandabang

[thedragonofcauldron]

Im going to complain about something. It's something a lot of people complain about, but...from the other side. Part of me has wanted to respond to other complaints, to share my story as a show of solidarity from the other side - but I don't want to seem like I'm trying to make their conversations about me. So I'm just venting here.

When I started my current job, they had me do a physical, where they took my height and weight.

Today, about six months later, I weighed myself at home, and came up 15 pounds lighter.

And I want you to stop for a second, and think about what your reaction to that loss of 15 pounds was. Because chances are, you thought I was celebrating - but no. I've been sick, anemic enough to get sent home from work, and so bloated by the iron supplements that were trying to get my blood functional again that I didn't feel hungry and would forget to eat, and because of that Ive lost 10 fucking percent of my body weight- possibly more, because who knows how much (literal) shit is still sitting in my lower intestine and boosting that number upwards! My cheeks have sunken in. My belt has moved to the tightest loop. It hurts to rest my wrists or elbows on a desk surface, because the pressure foes right to the bones.

What I am is not healthy or good, and I want those 15 pounds back.

I have always been underweight and pale and frail. Maybe something is actually, medically wrong with me, I don't know. I've never deliberately tried to keep my weight down - on the contrary, I'm a lazy shit who eats too much junk. But even as a kid, I'd get compliments, people asking "How are you so skinny?" Through no effort of my own, people were envious of me - and as I look at my bones showing through my skin, and think of a PE teacher telling me that my BMI literally not existing because they didn't have that low a score on the chart was "better than being on the other side :)"

I am angry.

What I am, and have always been, should not be envied or idolized, because it is not healthy. It's always made me uncomfortable, being praised for something I put less than no effort into attaining, but as I sit here, exhausted and missing those 15 pounds because they were 15 pounds between me and starvation, I am angry that society as a whole is so God damn scared and disgusted by the idea of "being fat" that my shitty ass, failure of a body is seen as better.

No random person, teacher, employer, coworker, or doctor has ever suggested that my weight had anything to do with any problems I faced. I've never had my discipline or character or lifestyle questioned because of my shape, and it is fucked. Up!! That other people get that treatment because their body doesn't throw literally every calorie they consume onto the incinerator immediately! I hate that there are people, friends who are envious of my incompetent metabolism because other people are so goddamn shitty to each other about the shape of their bodies! People see me, with my bony ass dangling over oblivion, and ask how they can join me, and I want to cry and scream! You do not want this!

I hate how much society hates fat, and fatness. Sure, yeah, too much of anything isn't good for you - but you can die from having too much water in your system. Or be poisoned by goddamn oxygen. Bodies make and store fat for good reasons. You should not feel bad for having it! Skinny is not inherently good, and fat is not inherently bad! The shape of your body should not be, and IS NOT a reflection of your virtues or vices or values or VALUE as a person! Be kinder to others, and to yourself most of all! If you are able bodied, treasure that, no matter what shape or number is associated with it.

I can't. I can't erase the years, the generations that have layered on this hate and fear and cruelty towards the very concept of "fatness", and I can't pretend I know what it's like to be on the other end of the scale, where you're mocked are looked down on for just existing in your own skin. But. I just. I just want to say that from where my pencilneck is situated on that scale, I can also see it - the scale is fucked up.

I'm sorry. I wish it wasn't like this, that you didn't have to deal with this shit. I wish I could make it better. I wish I could help.

But all I can do is this - to scream into the void that I see you. I hear you. And you're fucking right.

Be good to each other. We didn't get to build our own meatsuits.

[boowhumps]

Whumptober 2023

Day 16

(@whumptober)

By - B.W

⚠TW⚠

~ Swearing

~ Mentions of Injury

~ Mentions of Death

~ Hospital Setting

Enjoy!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Kaiden was fast asleep, his head resting against Karyme's hospital bed.

Karyme was wide awake, eyes slowly studying his features. She found herself immersed in him, eyes gazing over his tired eyes, pale skin, and the millions of freckles on his face.

Karyme slowly reached her hand up, letting it fall on his head. She ran her fingers through his black wavy hair, sighing.

She suddenly stops, eyes darting over to the door as it slowly opens. A familiar nurse pops her head in.

"Aren't you up early?" The nurse says with a smile, carrying her clipboard.

Karyme's attention wanders back to Kaiden, eyes wandering over him.

The nurse lowers her voice. "Don't worry, I won't wake him.." She says, approaching Karyme.

Karyme says nothing as the nurse checks her vitals, takes blood samples, and adjusts her I.V.

Once she's done, the nurse frowns. "I'll have to check your incision to make sure it's healing.."

Karyme nods, despite every fiber in her screaming no.

The nurse quickly undoes her bandages around her torso and reveals the large incision on her abdomen.

Karyme looks away, taking a deep breath.

"I'm going to apply a bit of pressure on it.. if it's too much squeeze my arm.." The nurse says.

Karyme leans her head back, eyes focused on the ceiling.

Soon a pain forms as the pressure starts. Karyme breathes heavily as the pain increases.

Finally, the pain reaches an unbearable level. Karyme gasps, quickly squeezing the nurses arm as tears fill her eyes.

The pressure stops, and the pain subsides. Karyme inhales sharply, calming herself.

"Good news, you're healing well.." The nurse says. "I have to go now, but if you need anything the service button is right in the wall."

With that, she excuses herself.

Karyme turns her head back to Kaiden, who's beginning to stir.

Karyme watches as he wakes up, rubbing his eyes.

"Karyme.?" He mumbles.

Karyme says nothing, only squeezes his arm.

He adjusts to the light and smiles at her. "Hey you.. have you been up for a while?"

Karyme nods in response.

Kaiden pushes himself up, checking his phone. "..did the nurse check on you already.?"

Once again, Karyme nods.

Kaiden sighs. "Why didn't you wake me.? I know how much those tests bother you.. I want to be there when they happen.."

Karyme shrugs, eyes gazing into his.

"It's fine.." He mumbles, stretching. "Do you feel better today.?"

Karyme nods.

"Good.. That's good." He responds.

He adjusts Karyme's blanket, making sure to cover her fully.

They sit together for a while, Kaiden talking and Karyme silently listening.

After a bit, Karyme's phone begins to ring. Kaiden raises an eyebrow. He picks up the phone, and almost immediately his demeanor changes.

"Your mother.." He mumbles. "..maybe I should answer-"

"No."

Kaiden's eyes widen a bit. "..Karyme.?"

Karyme speaks again, her voice low and shaky. "..no.. please.."

Kaiden immediately puts the phone down, the call missed. He clutches Karyme's hand, taking a deep breath.

"Easy.." He whispers. "It's fine.. I didn't answer.."

Karyme rests her head back onto the pillow, slowly nodding.

"You can talk.." Kaiden tells her. "I'm sure you have questions.."

"..she never visited..?" Karyme asks quietly.

Kaiden shakes his head. "No..not once. said she was busy.. even when you-.."

He stops, closing his eyes as if remembering..

Karyme frowns a bit. "..tell me.."

Kaiden hesitates. "I don't know-"

"..please.." Karyme whispers.

Kaiden sighs. "When I.. found you.. and brought you here.." He stops, as if composing himself to continue. "..you were in bad shape.."

"The doctors called your mother.. told her she should come down.. in case you didn't.. survive.." He sighs. "She never came."

Karyme squeezes his hand which he returns before resuming.

"Then you got worse." He says. "They were trying to get you stable enough to operate.. but every time.. your heart gave out."

His hands tremble a bit as he speaks. "Three times.." He whispers. "Three times you flatlined that night. Every time.. as I watched them revive you.. I broke inside."

He takes a deep breath. "You were ready to go.. so pale and fragile.. your breaths hardly there.. It felt like I was chaining you up.. not letting you pass on.."

He sighs again. "I didn't want to let you go.. at least.. not without an apology." He clear his throat. "After the third revive.. they rushed you away to operate.. telling me that your chances were low.."

He inhales deeply, and his lips form a small smile.

"But you made it." He says. "Even after hours.. you lived.." He squeezes her hand tightly. "And after three of the longest months of my life.. you're here.. awake.. and looking at me as if I did nothing wrong.."

Karyme gives him a weird look. "..what wrong.?"

Kaiden sighs. "Nothing.. let's not worry about that right now.. All we need now is to let you recover.."

Karyme nods, accepting his response.

But deep down.. in a dark and sinister place.. she feels guilt.

Why guilt.?

...

Well..

Because Karyme knows exactly what he did.. yet she can't find it in her to hate him for it..

...

Even if he deserves that hate.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[lovereconthings]

Time Out! - Take a Break

Time Out! - Take a Break

Connection and understanding are vital to any relationship. Relationship time outs allow you and your mate to process and digest without saying the wrong things in the heat of the moment. ~ Teresa Hicks, LoveRecon As we know, relationship arguments can escalate quickly. When our hot buttons get pushed, we often begin to attack each other. Kindness and civility go out the window. Since we are feeling threatened, conflict can even reach a point of verbal or physical abuse. One of the best ways to prevent your fights from escalating out of control is to take an effective time-out. A well-timed break must happen before partners start to feel overwhelmed. When either of you are emotionally flooded, the part of the brain that generates “loving feelings” shuts down and the part that generates the fight response takes over. Don’t wait until you are in the heat of a disagreement to try to work out how to take a “time out.” Here are some steps that can help you prepare ahead of time so that you will be ready to take an effective time out when needed. - Agree Upon a Signa First of all, agree upon a signal that will let you both know that the time out is needed. This can be a verbal or a

non-verbal signal. A verbal signal could simply be to say, “Time Out!” or “Break!” Some couples decide upon a word that is unique to them like “Bananas” or “Sink Hole.” Non-verbal signals could be making a “T” with your hands, making the peace sign, or putting your fists together and making a breaking motion. What signal, verbal or non-verbal, will you use to signal that a break is needed? - Conversation Must Cease. Immediately stop talking! When a time out is called, both partners must agree to return the signal or key phrase and stop all conversation. There will be no last words, explanations, or a final comment. Don’t think to yourself, “We can take a time-out after I make my point,” because then a break will never happen. - Calm Down. It takes most people at least 20 minutes to regulate their emotions and return to their normal self. Therefore, don’t attempt to re-engage in the conversation with your spouse until at least 20 minutes has passed. What can you do during this time? Take a walk, listen to music, read inspirational thoughts or scripture, pray, etc. For a break to be effective, you need to make an intentional effort to replace these negative and destructive thoughts with relationship- building thoughts that will help you calm down. For example: “It’s okay. I’m upset. Take some big breaths.” “This isn’t personal. We can work through this together.” “I’m hurt and I love my partner. There’s something I’m not understanding right now and we will figure it out.” - Re-engage. Come back together when the time is up. After the agreed upon break, if you are apart, text one another. The text could say, “I’m ready now for us to work together on resolving this,” or “I need some more time. Is it okay if we take another 20 minutes?” It is very important that your mate doesn’t begin to feel that you are abandoning them or avoiding the issue, so communicate! When you do come back together from the break, don’t just jump right back into the conflict. Take a few minutes and connect with each other at a heart level. Say what you appreciate about your mate. Hug for a moment and let your blood pressure lower. Doing this will let your brain know that it doesn’t have to signal your body to protect you!

Tips

- Practice taking a time out, even when you don’t really need to. It may sound silly, but it will help you use this tool effectively when you need it. If you have time, practice today. - Don’t use any substances that would alter your thoughts or feelings during your timeout.

Make a Time Out Agreement

Come up with your own agreement. It could look something like this: Our Time Out signal is________. We agree to take a ___ minute break from each other and return when the time is up. If needed, I will request additional time to calm down. If my partner requests additional time to calm down, I agree to let them take that time if it’s not over an hour. I agree to avoid alcohol, drugs or any substances that might alter my thoughts or feelings during our time-out. End with a hug, a kiss and a prayer or wish for your mate! TODAY’S CHALLENGE: Speaking of a time out… how long has it been since you’ve taken a vacation - just the two of you? Decide where you want to go and when and set the date to take your “time out” getaway. Read the full article

[atzfilm]

as the world caves in (m); ten

pairing; hongjoong x reader, mingi x reader, ? x reader

word count; 6.1k

genre/warnings; fantasy-ish, apocalyptic au, angst, fluff, blood(a lot), weapons, miscommunication, bullying, death mention, blood, cutting finger (slightly descriptive), anxiety mention

summary; a mysterious virus has taken over the world, resulting in the undead and the new ‘eden race’ of humans. desperately trying to find your brother jongho with your friends, you stumble across another group in an abandoned hospital tent. strangely, they’re looking for him as well.

previous chapter | next chapter

Chapter 10:

"Ready?" Wooyoung stands at the door, head turned to Hongjoong. They've packed up in no time, only four bags between all of you. You stand, ignoring the shot of pain in your stomach. There's time to complain once you're on the road, far away from this place. You hold the keys between your fingers, debating on how you should approach this. By now, Mingi must have told the others about what happened. Yunho expressed that you are free to leave whenever you like, but with information like this… You're not sure what your standing is with them now. The four of you know too much about them. They could inform other government agents about what transpired here.

Wooyoung grips his shotgun, eyes on the door. "Plan?"

"Get out. If they want to talk, let them talk. But we're leaving today, whether they like it or not," Hongjoong holds a pistol in his hands, knives tucked away in holders on his hips. You have a few on you as well, in case things go sideways. But all of you want to avoid fighting. There's already enough killing going around as it is.

"I should have let him speak," you say after a moment, staring at the door. "I fucked it up, didn't I?"

“If someone ever told me they worked for the government, I’d fuck off out of there too, love. Don’t put this pressure on yourself when it doesn’t need to be there. Now that we know, it’s a strong possibility that they weren’t going to let us go without a fight. Who knows what they wanted with Jongho. It makes sense why they’re so desperate to find him again,” San says softly. He holds his bat, balancing it on his palm. "Don't know what Mingi's plan was when he gave that letter to you, but it's not necessary information anymore. Jongho wrote that letter telling us to high tail out of here. He was with them for five years, I doubt he'd just write that to make shit up. Especially when it comes to family."

Wooyoung’s eyes slide to you, "You alright? You look pale."

You nod, "Fine." Your voice is low. Ignoring the pain in your side will only make things worse, but you want to leave. Staying another night with people who work for the government just isn't an option. Not after everything. "We just need to go."

Hongjoong nods, moving closer to you. Wooyoung glances at all of you before swinging open the door, shotgun aimed outside. He's first to walk out, San close behind. Hongjoong moves when you do, hand hovering but not touching you. Despite everything, you're thankful to have him next to you. You step outside first, stopping immediately once you see what's in front of you.

The four of them stand there. Eyes on Wooyoung’s gun. Their gazes slide to you, Hongjoong moving closer when he sees their line of sight shift. Mingi is the only one not meeting your gaze, standing just behind Yunho. They seem to surround the entrance to the door in a half circle formation. Waiting for the four of you to leave the farmhouse. You grip your knife on your side, eyes narrowing as you meet Yunho’s gaze. He holds his hands up in surrender, eyes flicking to Hongjoong.

“We aren’t here to kill you. You can lower the gun.”

“Not a chance,” Wooyoung scoffs, holding it steady. “I’m not gonna drop my guard for some government agents.”

“Former agents. We aren’t part of them anymore. Haven’t been for a little over four years now. We’ve moved past that point in our lives. If you would just let us explain why we were, and why we gave it up.”

Hongjoong steps forward, blocking your view completely. San lingers back slightly, taking his place next to you. “Why? Why should we let you explain how you were part of the people who killed hundreds of thousands of normal, breathing humans? Why should we pretend to care about anything you say? Your people killed my parents, Yunho. My family. I don’t give a shit about why you joined it and why you didn’t, because that isn’t my problem. What my problem is is all of you blocking our way to the cars.”

“You’re not taking a car,” Seonghwa laughs, shaking his head.

“Hyung,” Yunho says, before looking at all of you. “How about this - you let us explain ourselves, and if it doesn’t match up to your standards, you can take one of the cars and leave. Clean break.” He keeps his hands up in the air, head tilting so that his gaze meets yours. The warmth that you’ve grown accustomed to seeing is still there despite the circumstances. You wonder if it’s always been a façade to keep you there. Are his words true? Will they let any of you go? You ponder for a moment, San rolling his eyes.

“And why should we believe a word you say?” he asks, brow raised. “You’ve lied to us this whole time. Your stories can be just more lies.”

You zone out a bit on their conversation, staring at Mingi behind the rest of them. He keeps his gaze down, avoiding stares from everyone else. The tough exterior that he emits whenever he’s around any of you is dropped at this moment. He seems to be tucked in on himself, arms crossed against his body. His eyes move from the ground, sliding to yours. They widen before softening, nodding slightly.

“Fine,” Hongjoong says, interrupting the moment. “Speak.”

“We aren’t dogs, Hongjoong. We take no commands from you,” Yeosang sneers, eyes narrowing. “If it was my choice you’d be long gone from here.”

“Settle down, all of us,” Yunho interrupts. “I can speak about our position without getting into many details. As you know from Mingi’s confession, we were all part of the military. I was forced into it when this all started, right from my college campus. My faction recruited Eden into our ranks. We weren’t part of the ones that entered homes and destroyed lives. But I did leave for a reason. One of our many tests caused death to a lot of the Eden. I decided that I couldn’t be part of it anymore. That was four years ago. We took over this facility, destroyed it from within with Yeosang’s help.”

“So this isn’t your father’s farm?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“It is. My father was part of the military. He is the one that converted our farm to this when they came to us just before the meteor hit and told us of what’s to come. He was always filled with pride for his country. Undergoing this task was something decided easily. It later destroyed our family since this was our farm, but that’s besides the point. It was converted, that is why it is so protected. Everything you see around us is preparation from him and the government combined.”

“What about the rest of you? You were forced into this, but the others?”

“We were all forced to join at different points in time,” Seonghwa says. “Our stories aren’t relevant and many are private, but we all came together and decided that we should leave. It was quite humorous, once I think about it, over breakfast one morning. The sergeant in charge of our unit came into the dining hall and told us the upcoming plans of the military. That moment changed us all. We were so delusional into thinking that we were in the right after so long of doing it. That moment, that order to kill every civilian that approached the fence was a shift. It was a reality check. No one in their right mind would do such a thing, especially if they’re not infected. Even now, I mourn the deaths of the Sick. It’s been half a decade so I am sure their souls are long gone, but it is disheartening to see it. I’d rather rot than kill the innocent for seeking isolation and assistance.”

“Kill every civilian…?” Wooyoung curses under his breath. “They’re actually more horrendous than I give them credit for.”

“They are. Jongho knew about a lot of the activities because of his brief stay in military hands. But he never heard of that order because by that point, we were rid of all of the military personnel on this land. He didn’t know about our past. We planned to tell him eventually, but he happened to stumble upon the information himself. That is why he ran away from us. Because he thought that we were going to send him off to the military ourselves. That wasn’t and still isn’t our intention.”

“What is your intention with my brother?” You ask simply.

“We just want to make sure he’s okay,” Mingi finally speaks up, sighing softly. “I knew after that moment he would never trust us again, and I’m fine with that. We didn’t lie to him about our past, but we did walk around the truth. It is our fault that he lost his trust in us. We just want to make sure he hasn’t been found by the military. They want him as badly as you want to see him."

"Why? Why so much emphasis on my brother? Why care about him compared to other Eden?” Your tone is persistent, stepping out from behind San. He moves where you move though, keeping his eyes on the men in front of you. You pay no mind, too angry as you speak. “Everyone wants him, everyone wants my brother but no one can seem to tell me exactly where he is and why they want him. I just… I don’t believe that you want to track him down to make sure he’s safe. I just don’t, Mingi.”

Seonghwa nods slowly, “It wouldn’t make sense because you barely know us. But it’s mostly true. The other part is that he has something that we all need to survive. You, as well.”

“What does he have?”

“The cure,” Yunho says simply. “Your brother has the cure for this illness.”

“You’re fucking with us,” San scoffs, shaking his head. “How can he have the cure?”

“It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. If you would like us to show you, we can,” Yunho lowers his arms, digging in his back pocket. Wooyoung’s gun follows his movements, even as he takes out a small camera. He gestures to Hongjoong, tossing it to him carefully. He catches it with ease, turning it on.

“This shows everything. Our words don’t do it justice, so if you see for yourselves, you’ll understand.” He takes a step back, gesturing to the others. “Give them space.” They begin to move, but Wooyoung cocks his gun.

“Hey…” San furrows his brows. “Chill, Woo.”

“They move, they can grab a weapon. No chance,” he says, aiming back. “Stay where you are. Hongjoong and y/n can look at the video and tell us if it’s legit.” Hongjoong glances at you, questions in his eyes. You only nod in response, watching closely as he presses play. The video stutters for a moment, before the familiar face appears on the screen. You almost drop the camera, taking it from Hongjoong’s hands, fingers trembling.

-

“Attempt forty-one,” Jongho says, adjusting the camera. His hair is longer, tucked behind his ears as he stares at the lens. The bags under his eyes were apparent even in the low light. “Last few attempts yielded few results. This is going to be our last attempt for tonight then we’ll resume it later on. Currently, I am in the room with Kang Yeosang, Song Mingi and myself. We will be using my blood this time for a benchmark on how the virus affects it. Our results have not been edited, mostly because this is a shitty camera--”

A snicker behind the camera makes Jongho grin. His eyes flick back to the lens. “And without hyung’s commentary, I will begin.” He holds out the camera, one of the other guys taking it from his hands. He walks over to the petri dish, slicing his finger with a scalpel. He squeezes it tightly, watching as it drops into the sample. He places the sample underneath a microscope, the low hum of the camera zooming in filling the silence.

Jongho peers into the microscope, silent for about a minute. He lets out a low sigh, pulling back and looking at the camera. “Sample number forty-one was unsuccessful-”

“Wait,” Yeosang appears from behind the camera, peering into the scope. “Jongho, you’ve got to be shitting me. Are you-” He moves away from the scope, staring at the sample before peering back in. “Choi, your sample is killing the virus.”

“What?” the camera falls, swears falling from Mingi’s lips as he picks it up again. He moves closer to the sample, all of them surrounding it. Jongho looks into the scope again, eyes widening.

“No fucking way,” he utters, eyes flicking to the camera. “Sample forty-one was a success. It was a success…” He rubs his forehead, shaking it slowly. “What the Hell, what the Hell!”

“I’m getting Seonghwa and Yunho. They need to see this,” Yeosang speeds around the table, a door swinging open in the background. You hear his steps rush up steps in the distance, silence between Mingi and Jongho. Mingi places the camera on the table, the both of them finally coming into frame. Without words exchanged, Mingi embraces Jongho. Your brother is hesitant at first, before he lets his hands wrap around Mingi’s body.

“You did it,” Mingi says softly, pulling away. His hand reaches up, as if he’s going to touch Jongho’s cheek, but he pulls away once his gaze moves to the camera. Mingi backs up, rubbing his hands on his pants as he stares at the sample. “We need to continue to monitor it to make sure it’s permanent, but -”

“There’s a big chance the cure may be me,” Jongho murmurs, eyes widening. “But why? Why me? What’s different about my blood? The government had to have tested Eden against the virus before me. What makes mine different?”

“We can continue to analyze the data and see what changed. It can be the air quality, your diet, any combination of it all that kills the virus. There’s so much to go off of-”

Jongho’s eyes flick to the camera, joyous expression slipping. Without another word, he walks over, turning it off.

-

You stare at the thumbnail, Jongho's face staring back at you. It's different to see him on camera instead of a photo, to hear his voice again. It's a bit rougher over the years but you can still hear the soft tone of your brother. You want to press play again just to hear him speak, but you know it isn't the right time. So with great hesitancy, you look up from the camera to the others.

Hongjoong's hand covers yours. Right when he touches you, you realize how much you're shaking. You stare at your hands, the trembling going over to his as well. You let him take the camera, passing it over to San as he looks at the others.

"Jongho is the cure." You murmur. Your brother is the cure to all of this. To everything.

"As far as we know, yes. We haven't had the chance to continue our testing because he left soon after. But Jongho is special. His blood has certain compounds that allow him to be resistant to the illness. It can change everything," Yunho says. "But it's his choice in the end whether he wants to use it or not. We won't force his hand either way. As we've said before, we just want to find him. Make sure he's okay. And tell him we aren't who he thinks we are."

"You expect us to drop everything and stay over a five minute video?" Wooyoung asks, brow raised. "It only makes me think that you want him for the cure and nothing else."

"We do want the cure, Wooyoung," Yeosang’s tone is sharp as he speaks. "But every single human does. That's up to no debate. We want to be able to live freely again, to not have to worry about turning into one of the Sick. And we don't want you to leave, at least not without us testing y/n."

"What?" You say, eyes widening. "Testing my blood?"

"You're twins, y/n. There’s a high chance that you can carry it. You might be walking around with the cure like Jongho without even knowing it. If we take a sample just to see –"

"Absolutely not," San interrupts Seonghwa, rolling his eyes. "Who do you guys think you are? We said we're leaving. What part of that do you not understand?"

“And risking the chance that she could have the cure flowing through her veins?” Yunho inquires. “This isn’t going to change our search for Jongho if she has it or not. We’re still going to search for him with or without your help. We just… we want it to end. Who knows how many of us are left free of the sickness. Living like this forever isn’t something that we want. y/n,” Yunho turns to you. The calm, kind look in his eyes is gone. Filled with desperation. Fear. At a complete juxtaposition from what he usually looks like. “I know you want to find your brother. Most of us lost the family we have, and I personally, would give anything to see them again. To save them from the fates that they suffered. Without hesitation. Staying a little longer could save them. Could save people from suffering as long as they have. We could save everyone.”

“It’s not our job to save everyone,” Hongjoong says as you stare at Yunho, at a loss for words. “We’ve lost enough, Yunho. If there’s a slight possibility that her blood is like Jongho’s, if word gets out… she’ll be hunted. Not everyone wants this to end. So many people we’ve come across believe that this shit we’re in is a higher beings plan. And so many just love the thrill of it. There’s so much crap that’ll be thrown at her face. And we don’t trust you, Yunho. Any of you. You can show me all the footage you want and have Jongho on video saying that we should trust you, and we still won’t. How long has he been gone? A few months now? People change in months, Yunho. His words back then could be something completely different now.”

An unreadable expression flicks across Yunho’s face. The others behind him don’t say much, faces empty. You stand there and listen to their words, thinking. This shit, finally being over? You never thought it was a possibility, at least not in your lifetime. There’s too much destruction to fix, too many things that lead to more hurt. But the slightest possibility that it can be over. That you can have a semi-normal life, that the next generations wouldn’t have to suffer what you’ve all been through. It’s a dream. And a few hours ago, it was an unachievable one. You touch your side, still sore. The words that are about to come out of your mouth are going to be completely stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. But just as you’re about to say something, Seonghwa interrupts you.

“We’ve all had lives before this. And there’s a big fucking chance that we won’t survive to see a glimpse of what we had before. I doubt it, to be honest with you. But I want to go back to something like it. It’s exhausting to wake up each day and think about how it may be your last. And I know behind the annoyance in your voice right now, Hongjoong, the chance is still lingering in your mind. We haven’t asked for many chances, but we just hope that you may consider this one.”

It’s a plea. One that you can clearly see, despite the frown on his lips. Although you’ve been around for a short time, you’ve figured him out a little. The anger isn’t exactly what he’s feeling. You look at Wooyoung. His lip twitches when you meet his gaze, eyes flicking to the ground before focusing on the others again. San doesn’t meet your eyes, squeezing your arm slightly. Two no’s. You meet your best friend’s eyes last. You expect him to be the third, but his lip quirks. Yes.

Hongjoong wants to give them a chance. It leaves you stumped.

It’s up to you now. You can either split it up, or say no. You look at the men, until your eyes move to Mingi. He rubs his neck, a red mark painted against his skin. You didn’t notice that before. Not when you were with him. Something isn’t right.

“Will you let us go if I test out my blood?” You ask. San and Wooyoung’s expressions drop at your words. “I give you my blood, you let us go. I don’t stay here for testing, I just give you a few vials and we go. Mingi is the one that draws it, no one else.”

“y/n-”

“We agree,” Mingi speaks up, interrupting Yunho. A flicker of anger crosses Yunho’s face. You say nothing, gripping San’s shirt tightly. “I’ve done it before, I can do it. Then you can go.”

“Thought you said you aren’t holding us here?” San quirks.

“We aren’t,” Mingi says, “Just the blood. That’s all. You go and we go back to normal. We don’t have to see each other again.”

“Perfect,” Hongjoong says, clasping his hands. We’ll wait in the barn. Come get us when you’re ready. Before nightfall, because we’ll be long gone by then.”

Yunho says nothing, turning on his heel and walking off. Yeosang nods at you, following behind him. Seonghwa lingers with Mingi as he stares at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but changes his mind, letting Seonghwa guide him back to the house. You watch them go, anxiety rolling in your chest. You feel San’s finger on top of yours, realizing that you never let go of his arm. He touches your hand softly.

“It’s alright.”

“Yunho did something to Mingi,” you say, looking at your friends. “That red mark on his neck? It wasn’t there before. And we haven’t been standing outside in the sun long enough for him to burn. There’s something going on between them.”

“So called best friends,” Wooyoung lowers his gun, shaking his head. “Should have shot them and ran off. Why did you agree to give them your blood, y/n? They’re agents, they could do anything with that. It’s not wise to do.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing your arm. “That’s why I’m not giving it to them.”

Wooyoung furrows his brows. “But you just said-”

“Why do you think I asked for Mingi to be the only one to draw blood? I’m going to convince him to take it from one of you. They test it, see that it doesn’t work, and we get the fuck out of here,” And find your brother, hopefully. “Maybe convince Mingi to come with us.”

“No,” San says, shaking his head. “Even if we wanted to, Mingi wouldn’t leave them. They’re his family. That’s like me leaving one of you and joining them. There are just some people you can’t save, y/n. No matter how much you want to.”

“It’s just a thought,” you say softly, thinking. “Do you… do you think that I might have the cure? If Jongho does, there’s a strong possibility that I do too.”

“And?” Hongjoong raises his brow. “Are you willing to hand it over to them? We’ve been through a lot of shit, y/n. And especially with them. This whole time that we’ve been here, things have been happening. Yea, there’s the Sick around out there, but something about this place isn’t right. I don’t think any of your DNA should linger around in their labs. Don’t you remember when they went around to our homes? Taking samples of our blood?”

“Jongho was taken soon after that,” you say, swallowing slowly. Maybe they’ve known this whole time. It isn’t too far-fetched, but you don’t let your mind linger on those thoughts. “But they seemed too shocked in the video for it to be faked. They didn’t know about Jongho.”

“Them, yes. But the higher ranks in the military? I wouldn’t put it past them. I’m sure these guys are just looking at the records they left over.” San says, walking back to the barn. “Who’s volunteering in your stead?”

“I will,” Hongjoong says, following San. You slowly follow after them, Wooyoung close to you. “Then we’re gone, right?”

“Right~!” San says from the front, opening the barn door. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his cheery voice, following close after. You hesitate.

“y/n?”

You look at Wooyoung. You don’t have to meet his eyes to know he’s worried. You smile at him softly. “It’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t answer his question. We’re leaving right after this, right?” he asks you again.

“I hope so, Woo,” you murmur. “I just… I don't have a good feeling about all of this. If Yunho’s willing to hurt Mingi, his best friend… how far is he willing to go to get what he wants? You saw how angry he was when Mingi spoke up before him. He didn’t agree. I don’t think they’re going to let us leave without a fight. And I don’t want anyone hurt, not after what we’ve all been through. I can’t even help the way I would before this stupid shot in my side.”

“It won’t get to that,” he says. “We won’t let it get to that.”

“But you can’t promise that,” you say. “You can’t promise that they’ll let us go.”

“I can’t,” he says simply. “But I will try my best. We’ve gotten this far - a few strangers aren’t going to stop us. We’re too close to finding your brother to give up now. And I’m sure he’s waiting for you to find him as well.” His hand reaches out, steadying you as you walk over small rocks. “We’ve got to try, y/n.”

You nod slowly. Wooyoung is often the one you go to, his calm demeanor often calming your anxiety ridden one. Like before, he’s very straight-forward with his words. It’s comforting when you speak to him. Although at this moment he’s sugar-coating it a bit, he isn’t lying to you. You nudge his arm.

“Think they’ll fall for some strawberry juice as my blood? Maybe peak their interest enough that they’ll wonder why I have the DNA of a fruit?”

Wooyoung snickers, rolling his eyes. “Might not fool Yunho, but I’m sure it’ll stump Yeosang. His thoughts are pretty empty.”

“Don’t be mean!” you laugh. “What do you have against that guy?”

“His face,” he narrows his eyes. “He’s too handsome. One man can’t possibly hold that much power and be mean. Life just isn’t fair.”

“You say that like you’re not handsome, dumbass,” you stumble over a rock, and he holds you upright.

“You think I’m handsome?” Even through these circumstances, he smirks, wiggling his brows. “Round two is always open for you.”

“Can’t believe you’re thinking about sex at a time like this.”

“You started it!”

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tags: @haechanniesunflowers @kpopnightingale @vanishingboots @moonctae @bangtanxberm @honeysbbae @havetaeminforbreakfast @mirror-juliet @knucklesdeepmingi @captainjoongiekissme @roroswitherose@a1sh1teruu @goldenstarmermaid @meowsannie​@atinytease​ @jenniie-tm (won’t let me tag~) @honeydewjoong (won’t let me tag~)

[dailyreverie]

“I’m usually strong and stoic but you’ve been hurt and even though my first priority is taking care of you, I’m furious and planning the grisly demise of whoever hurt you”

Omg this with either Santiago or Leto? YES PLEASE 🤩🥵

Like you’re hurt and he’s taking care of you - gentle hands but his voice is furious and he’s so intense that you think he’s mad at you. But no no! He’s furious that this happened in the first place and it kills him to see you like this. I- 😩😭

A/N: Did I hurt my foot today and I got inspired to write this while not being able to move? Yes I did. I wrote this on my phone so I apologize for any mistakes.

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader

Word count: 816 words

CW: descriptions of an injury (nothing graphic, a sprained ankle), 1 f word.

**************************

The thing about Santiago is that, when it comes to you, he worries. He's mostly in control, he knows how to act in every situation thrown at him, but lord have mercy when something, anything, happens to you. it doesn't matter if it's a headache, a scrap, a coffee burn, he jumps to your side and makes sure you're okay. 

"It's nothing, Santi." You always laugh a little at him, pushing back his curls to relax him, and with that he's back to his usual self.

That's why the second he sees Will rushing to the med tent with you in his arms he can feel his blood pressure dropping and every thought leaves his head until there's only one left: you. He knows it's not nothing this time, he can hear your whimpers from afar as he rushes to your side.

He waits from a few feet away, looking at your face contorting with pain as the doctor checks your foot, and you can actually hear his breathing out loud when the doctor announces his diagnosis: "Third degree sprain."

You look at Santiago then. He's fuming, looking down to the floor and shaking his head silently, but after a few seconds he looks at you and his shoulders drop when your foot begins to be wrapped in a bandage. You wish you could read him, you really do, especially in moments like these when his face says nothing but anger, but his hands fidget nervously by his sides.

"No movement for a couple of days, then I'll check it again." The doctor hands you a healing cream and offers you a smile.

"Thanks doc." Santi steps up, slapping his shoulder in the process and offering him the best smile he can to let him know he needs a moment with you. The doctor somehow gets it, and you want to roll your eyes at Santi and at the effortless power he has over everyone, but your throbbing foot and his angry eyes from before won't let you. He walks over to you then, eyeing your foot and turning it gently.

"Careful." You spoke quickly, cautious, not knowing what Santiago was going to say. 

"What happened?" His voice was lower than usual and his eyes were not meeting yours, but this fingers, on the other side, massage your swollen limb. "And don't say it was nothing, something did happen this time."

"Santi, please, don't worry." You tried with a soft voice 

"It's too late for that, honey." Your eyes finally met, and you can't help the shiver that goes down your spine at the anger in his stare. "Does Will have something to do?"

"No." You are quick to say. "No, he just went to help after-." You stop yourself then, noticing the way his shoulder tense up again.

"After? After what?" He cages you between his arms, leaning closer to you in your spot at the stretcher. You have no other option but confessing.

"I- I'm sorry, Santi, I was being careful, it was an accident." His hand went to your thigh when you started your guilty ramble, stopping you immediately.

"Hey, hey. Mi amor," With a gentle squeeze he got your attention back to his face. "You don't have to apologize, this was clearly not your fault. Right?" Your soft nod made both of you relax a little, but that was long forgotten when he spoke again. "Will you tell me what happened now?"

"It was a stupid game. Tom rushed to tackle me, I didn't see him and we bumped into each other and I fell funny." Santiago's eyes went wide open, his hands gripping the thin paper sheet that covered the bed, and his breathing instantly began to quicken.

"Fucking Tom," he muttered, the gears in his head already working and planning how he was going to get back to him. "He tackled you?!"

"Will was near him and he tried stopping him but I guess he didn't hear." Santiago's jaw tensed when he looked away from you. "Santi." Your hands grabbed his face, making him turn to you again. Your fingertips traced his stubble with soft circular movements, knowing that would make him relax. "It was an accident, okay? He didn't plan to hurt me."

"But he did hurt you, didn't he?" Santi was pissed, rightfully so.

You shushed him calmly, once again turning his head to you. "He apologized, it's fine. Don't do anything to him, 'kay?"

That was something he couldn't promise you, you both knew that, what he could do was take your mind away from the pain. His lips kissed the palm of your hand before finding your lips, making a little bit of the pain go away and calming your nerves down. "You are not moving an inch for a week, got it?" His playful stare was back, kissing you again when you giggled.

"Got it."

**********************

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it ✨

[bluejayblueskies]

oh if you did a little something for jonmartin and "hiding their face in the other’s neck" i would be so 🥺💕

touches prompt list

a little post-circus kidnapping hurt/comfort! cw for wounds/injury, mild blood, mentions of non-consensual touching, and mentions of kidnapping

.

There is a stranger’s elbow digging into Jon’s side.

He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his side while surreptitiously giving the stranger a glare that he hopes adequately conveys his dislike of the current situation. The tube is packed, as it always is at this time of day, and there are… so many strange hands. An elbow, at least, is better than the hand that had pressed to his back as the individual it belonged to had instinctively tried to maintain their balance.

After all, Nikola didn’t touch him with her elbows.

Jon doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. He wants to lie down in a soft bed and get his first good night’s sleep in a month and finally have the space to process. Alone.

Instead, Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.

“I have a flat,” Jon had said uncomprehendingly when Martin had suggested (or rather, gently begged) that Jon come back to his flat with him. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Spacious. S-sturdy locks.”

“You… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Martin had said, sounding and looking very much like he wished Jon would anyway.

“I’m fine.” Jon was not fine. But he could be fine until he got back to his flat. It was always good to have a short-term goal.

Martin gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Jon was full of shit. Jon was, but it was still unnecessary. He was just trying to keep it together. What did Martin want—him sobbing and crumpling to the floor right here in the Archives? No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“You were kidnapped. Twice now. I really don’t want it to happen a third time. Besides, I…” Martin trailed off and fluttered his hands at his sides. “I—I should take a look at your hand. And your, um. Wrists.”

Jon looked down at his arms. They were, indeed, quite red and raw and scabbed over and likely to scar. Nikola had been irritated when she’d seen that he’d been tied up so tightly, but she’d decided there was nothing to be done about it. She would just ‘make do with what she had.’ And, well. She had never stopped Breekon and Hope when they’d cinched the ropes just a little bit tighter each time.

“I have first aid supplies in my flat,” Jon lied. He was fairly certain that he had a backpack of What the Ghost merchandise and a single mattress to his name at the moment. “I can take care of it.”

“So can I.” Martin took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to see you hurt, Jon.” His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he looked over Jon’s shoulder at the wall behind him. “J-just for tonight, at least? I want…” Martin swallowed. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

And then Martin had turned those lovely blue eyes to his, and, well. Here they are.

Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have long-term goals as well. He splits this one into steps.

Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying. He achieves this easily enough. He finally escapes the cloying presence of strangers as Martin’s door shuts behind them, and then it’s blissfully quiet. Martin flips on a light, illuminating the space in pale yellow. It’s a little bit messy but otherwise spartan. The walls are painted a dull eggshell white, the floor made of cheap lino. Martin sits Jon down on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Jon stares at the wall and focuses on breathing evenly and thinking about anything other than how smooth his skin feels when he slowly rubs his fingers together.

Step two: let Martin bandage his wounds without crying. This is… more challenging, if only because it hurts. Martin apologizes profusely as he wets a cotton ball with isopropyl alcohol and gently cleans the inflamed areas. Jon sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, focusing on anything other than the stinging, burning sensation in his wrists and hands. Funny—he’d thought that at this point, he would be used to the pain, but he’s not. All he knows now is what to expect.

Martin carefully wraps his hand and wrists in bandages. For a moment after he’s done, he delicately holds Jon’s hands in his like they’re porcelain. His hands are warm and soft, and Jon imagines how lovely they would feel against his cheeks. He thinks briefly that Martin is going to raise his unbandaged hand to his lips and lay a kiss across the back of it, but Martin doesn’t. Instead, he sets Jon’s hands back in his lap and stands, mumbling that he’s going to go make some tea.

Jon scrubs his uninjured hand across his eyes, just once.

Step three: sit on the couch with Martin and drink tea without crying. Martin presses a mug of steaming chamomile into his good hand and lays a plate of biscuits between them. “Th-they’re your favorite,” Martin says with a small, nervous laugh, like Jon’s not already staring at the plate with something choked sitting in the back of his throat. “I—I figured you probably haven’t really eaten today, and… I don’t really know what you’ve eaten lately. So, um. Yeah.”

Jon thinks of the things that Nikola had called food, then chooses not to think of them at all. He tucks the memory into a box next to cold hands and exposed skin and burning ropes and slams the lid before it can all come spilling back out again. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. He gingerly takes a biscuit in his stiff, aching hand that hasn’t had the time to heal properly and probably won’t get the chance to do so in the future and pops it into his mouth whole so he doesn’t get crumbs on Martin’s couch.

Step four: eat a biscuit that tastes like the best biscuit you’ve ever had and is the first palatable food you’ve had in weeks without crying.

“Jon?”

Jon blinks and comes back to himself. He’s staring blankly at Martin’s face, at eyebrows folded in concern and mouth curled into a small frown. Martin’s freckles are smudged into smears of tan, and the lines of his jaw waver like a mirage in front of Jon’s eyes. That’s odd, Jon thinks. Then, he feels something wet hit the top of his cheek.

Oh, no.

Quickly, Jon reaches up and scrubs the tears away from his eyes. As soon as he lowers his hand, more spring up in their place. He curses and sets his mug of tea down heavily on the table, taking one more look at Martin—whose eyes are now wide with worry—before turning away and attempting to pull himself together.

Step five: stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

(Stop crying, his grandmother says as he stands in the living room, hands and knees dirty and hair a mess. He’s managing to say words between his sobs, words like book and stole and spider. She’s frowning at him, but her voice is still patient and calm when she says, You’re not making any sense, Jonathan. Stop crying, please, and speak clearly. You had a nightmare?)

“Jon, what’s—” Martin catches himself, which Jon is thankful for. He thinks that if Martin had finished that question—asked him what’s wrong—Jon wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from saying, what isn’t? “What can I do to help?” he says instead, a hand hovering carefully in the air between them like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Jon or not.

“Don’t look,” Jon manages to say. He immediately feels ridiculous and follows with a quick: “S-sorry, it’s—I don’t k-know how to—I’m not—I’m n-not good at—”

“I’m not looking,” Martin says softly.

Jon cuts off, takes a breath, and turns his head back toward Martin. True to his word, Martin has his eyes closed, though his hand remains in the air between them. Jon presses his good hand to his mouth for a moment to hide how the sight rips a new, more ragged sob out of him. Then, tentatively, he reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand.

Martin inhales sharply. Jon almost lets go, but Martin curls his fingers around Jon’s hand and squeezes. He holds Jon’s hand tightly yet so achingly softly, and Jon could weep. (Or rather, is weeping.)

“Can I hug you?” Martin says abruptly, like he’d been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to say it and had just lost. His cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say anything else or take it back. His jaw shifts as he pinches his lips together and worries them back and forth.

Jon is… not the kind of person who initiates or seeks out hugs. He always makes them too stiff, or he holds on just a bit too long and makes them awkward, or he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and ends up just dangling them uselessly in the air. He’s also never really seen the point of them if he’s being honest. As a form of greeting, surely handshakes or waves or head nods get the point across just fine. Right now, though, there is truly nothing in the world that Jon thinks would make him feel safer than having Martin’s arms around him.

Jon nods, then remembers that Martin can’t see him and whispers, in as composed a voice as he can muster: “Please.”

Step six: hug Martin Blackwood without falling apart completely.

Martin’s arms are soft and warm around him. His chest is flush with Jon’s, and he’s holding him so close that Jon is practically on Martin’s lap. All Jon can think is that it’s been so long since he’s been held by something not made of sawdust or plastic. He grips the back of Martin’s jumper with lotion-soft hands and cries tears that have been collecting for a month into the fabric as he buries his face in Martin’s neck. Martin’s hands rub large circles across Jon’s back, and he’s whispering gentle words into Jon’s ear. Things about safe and okay and time and here.

By the time Jon feels thoroughly wrung dry, his cheeks are sticky and his head is throbbing and he’s desperately in need of a glass of water. He takes a few deep breaths, then carefully extracts himself from Martin’s arms. Martin lets him go easily, though his hands remain resting lightly on Jon’s elbows as if he can’t bear to let him go completely.

Jon thinks he knows the feeling.

Martin’s eyes are still closed, and Jon is hit with such a swell of affection he can hardly breathe around it. “Y-you can open your eyes,” he says, a bit sheepishly. Martin does, and if he’s affected by the state of Jon’s face, he doesn’t show any indication of it. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, twisting his ring—now on his left middle finger instead of his right—around and around mindlessly. “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s elbows gently. “I understand. Any time you need me to look away, I will. Okay? I just…” He takes a breath. “I’ll always be here. F-for you when you need me.”

If Jon weren’t thoroughly out of tears, that would make his eyes water. Instead, he nods and offers a small, weak smile. “I know. Thank you, Martin. It… just. Thank you.”

Step seven: fall asleep safe against Martin’s side in the bed that he insists is big enough for two, face pressed into Martin’s neck once again and hands curled loosely in Martin’s sleep shirt.

He’s so drained by the time they’re there, so wrung-out and empty and relaxed, that he manages to do so almost immediately. He thinks he hears Martin murmur, “Sleep well, love,” as he drifts off. But it disappears into the fuzzy border between sleep and wakefulness, slipping from Jon’s mind entirely as he fades to black.

[mediocre-writerr]

peer pressure [jo wilson]

jo wilson x reader

requested by anon: hey there! i saw you accept requests for greys anatomy, so i was wondering if you could write for jo wilson? she's dating y/n in secret bc the two of them are still figuring out their relationship. y/n is brought to the hospital and since no one knows about the two, jo is assigned to operate on her but jo gets really stressed and panicked, not wanting to mess up. protective jojo would be sweet <3

warning: shooting, blood

*not my gif*

The sound of a phone ringing awoke you from your peaceful slumber. You grabbed the pillow from next to you as you threw your head over it. A familiar weight on top of you. 

“Jo,” she just hummed in response, “Jo, your phone,” 

Her head immediately shoots up and grabs it off your bedside table, but not before elbowing your stomach in the process. You let out a groan, “Oops, sorry love,”

“Hello,” her voice rang out as she answered her phone, “Okay I’ll be right there!”

You remove the pillow off your face as she hung up, “I have an emergency surgery that I need to scrub in on. You’ll pick me up, right?” 

“Same spot, in. my dark ominous tinted car,” I joked with her and she jokingly rolled her eyes. You paused before continuing to talk, “Have you thought about us? I know after Alex you weren’t sure if you wanted to date again, but I don’t know if we’ve been going on dates and getting closer. I know you want to be ready-” 

She leaned over as she changed into a pair of scrubs that she kept at your place, just in case stuff like this happened, and placed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about when I get back, okay?” you let out a sigh knowing that this isn’t the first time that she avoided the conversation, but you put on a tight lipped smile before nodding. 

“I’ll call you when I’m off,” she shouted before walking out the door.

“Okay, I love you. Go save some lives Supergirl!” you shouted back, but it was too late the door was closed. 

That’s what you always did, you always shouted it right as the door closed, because you knew that she wouldn’t reciprocate those feelings. 

You understood her need to keep her walls up. She was married to Alex and then he just up and left, but you wanted more than hiding on a corner block away from the hospital just so her friends wouldn’t see. 

You looked at the time on your clock and let out another groan. There was no point in trying to get a little more sleep. You rolled out of bed to get ready for your day at work. 

The day was a little cold compared to the fast few days. But you continued your walk towards the familiar coffee shop you stopped in every morning before work. However, today was different, through the coffee shop window you could see a heated argument occurring.

You bursted into the coffee shop to see your usual barista Kate shaking in fear. The man turned around and he had a gun in his hand. You put your hands up immediately knowing what to do in a situation like this.

“Hello sir, whatever you need we can give it to you,” you told him, trying to ease the situation.

“I want the money that’s in the register!” he screamed.

You shook your head, “Okay, you got it. Just put the gun down please,” he slowly lowered the gun and you gave Kate a nod, “Unlock the register, it’s going to be okay,” 

Just when you think you’re safe and the man’s about to leave. His ski mask slips off his face and you breathe out a sigh, knowing now that you’re a liability. 

“Shit!” he yells, pointing the gun back at you and Kate.

“Just go, we won’t say a word,” you told him. 

He shook his head,  “I can’t let you do that,” 

And with that a shot rang through the coffee shop. You felt your body go cold as you fell onto the floor, clutching your side. 

Then you could see him point his gun at Kate, so you did what you were taught to do. You got up quickly from off the floor as you stood in front of her. The bullet hit your shoulder as you fell down once more. Before another shoot could ring out, you could see the blurry visions of officers behind him. 

Your breathing started to become ragged as the blood starts to leave your body bit by bit, “Kate...” you whispered and she looked at you panic in her eyes, “I need you to put pressure on my wound, okay? I’m losing too much blood to-to do it myself,” 

But before you could feel any pressure, your vision slowly faded away.

“Y/N, you don’t have to pick me up right now. There was a robbery at the coffee shop, there’s one injured and I was assigned. I’ll call you again when I’m done,” Jo spoke into the phone after trying to call you three times. 

Jo immediately ran out to the parking lot where the ambulance park. The paramedics arriving right as she got out there. They burst through the ambulance door as Jo went over to them. 

“What have we got?” she asked, not giving a look at the patient for just a second.

“We found the ID of Detective Y/N Y/L/N,” the paramedic said.

With that Jo immediately lifted her head from the bullet wound and saw your pale face going in and out of consciousness. A pit falling into her stomach as she completely blocked out everything else.

“Y/N,” she whispered, fear evident in her eyes.

You looked at her with a loopy smile, grabbing a hold of her hand, and squeezing it with all your might. You could feel your eyes start to slip away again, “I-I love you,” 

Your eyes shut as you slipped out into unconsciousness, “Dr. Wilson,” the paramedic said sternly, “She’s losing too much blood we got to get her to an OR,” 

“Right, yeah. Get her to OR one,” 

They placed you on the OR table as you were blacked out. The loss of blood making it too hard to stay awake. They hooked you up to the anesthesia before opening up your side.

“We’re ready Dr. Wilson,” the anesthesiologist said.

Her hands started to shake with the scalpel in her hand. Thoughts rushing through her mind. 

Focus Jo, just focus. 

But her thoughts wouldn’t quiet, “Dr. Wilson, is everything okay?”

She shook her head, “No, someone grab my phone and get Dr. Grey on the phone,” 

A nurse immediately grabbed her phone and dialed Dr. Grey, “Wilson, what’s going on?”

“I need you to get to the OR as soon as possible,” she said, her voice slightly cracking.

“I’m on my way,” 

Jo spotted Meredith walk into the OR, “I need you to do this procedure, please,” 

“Why?” Meredith asked as she immediately took Jo’s place, but Jo didn’t respond, “Wilson, if I’m going to take over for you I need to know why because this is a simple find the bleeder,” 

“This is Detective Y/N Y/L/N, she’s my-” Jo starts before the tears started getting choked up, “I don’t know what we are, I’d always avoid the conversation, but they-”

“They mean a lot to you,” Meredith finished and Jo nodded.

“Can I stay here with you? I don’t wanna leave their side,” Jo whispered.

“Only if you tell me about them,”

Jo pulled out a seat and watched as Meredith worked on you. She told Meredith everything about what was going on. 

“They always asked me about us and what I wanted us to be. They were always ready for a relationship, they wanted to make things official but I-I just couldn’t,” she whispered.

“What was holding you back?” Meredith said as she used the suction to take the bleeders out of you.

“I guess I was scared, Alex left and I met Y/N and I fell for them each more every day. The thought of losing them or I guess them abandoning me, I couldn’t take it,” Jo said, staring at your face. 

She ran her thumb over your cool skin and smiled at you with tears in her eyes, “Every time I left their apartment, I’d give them a kiss, and I’d say bye. Right as I shut the door I hear them call out and say ‘I love you! Go save some lives Supergirl!’. I never said it back, I need to say it back,” 

“And you’ll be able to, they’re stable. We’ll take them to the ICU and they’ll be able recover nicely,” Meredith replied as she stitched you up, “Just make sure you tell them this time,” 

You awoke to the sound of soft beeping noises and a bright light on your face. The familiar weight that’s usually on top of you when you woke up was right there. 

Your eyes fluttered opened as you see that you’re at Grey Sloan Memorial. The familiar weight was indeed Jo, sleeping peacefully on your chest in her navy blue scrubs. 

“Jo,” you whispered and she stirred awake looking up at you.

“You’re awake,” she whispered, holding you even tighter.

You let out a soft groan, “Ouch love, that’s the wound,” 

“Oops sorry love!” she exclaimed once more and you laughed softly.

“It’s okay. Not that I’m complaining, but I’m surprised you’re on top of me. I know we’ve been keeping us a secret,” you asked, kind of confused. 

She looked at you with a guilty look in her eyes, “I'm sorry. I was scared, after Alex, I didn’t think I’d find love again. But then you, you came, and every day I fell in love with you more and more. I never wanted to talk about what we were because the thought of you abandoning me like everyone else did killed me. So I thought if there’s no label and you leave I won’t get hurt,”

“But then I heard the paramedics ID you and the thought of losing you without telling you how much I love you killed me more. I can’t lose you Y/N,” she whispered, “I love you so much and I can’t lose the person who put me back together,” 

You cupped her cheeks softly and kissed her sweetly. As soon as you pulled away you placed your foreheads together, “So we’re dating?” you teased and she laughed softly before nodding, “I love you so much. I’m not going anywhere,”

“Good,” she kissed you once more, “Just please no more jumping in front of bullets,”

“What? You can’t be the only one who saves lives,” you teased, but you could tell that she was being serious.

“I know that’s your job, but seriously love you weren’t even off the clock. I need you with me,” 

“Then with you is where I’m going to be,” you kissed her forehead before she settled back into your arms, holding you tighter than ever before.

[messwriting]

Written for the Whorehouse Compilation [RAW DOG 1080p] (Try Not To CUM) Collab:  Masterlist.

Open wide: the Doctor is IN

Shirabu Keijiro x Female Reader 

Doctor Shirabu gives you a very special treatment on your first appointment.

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Note: I’m sorry for being this late to the party. The cursed porn search we all have looked at least once (some... lots of times hehehe). THANKS TO @dymphnasprose​ for the little porn search bar i love them so much ;-; <3 My (very) late contribution to the Whorehouse Server CUMpilation. Thanks for letting me participate Miki! Doctor Shirabu is ready to see you now. 

Warnings: POSSIBLE TRIGGERING CONTENT.  CONSENSUAL NON-CONSENT.  DOCTOR/PATIENT. MEDICAL PLAY. INAPPROPRIATE TOUCHES. WRONG GYNECOLOGICAL EXAM. Breast exam but not really. Corruption Kink.  MEDICAL KINK. Use of medical equipment in inappropriate ways. ANAL PLAY. Established relationship clarified at the end: role-play. Poorly researched medical stuff. Overuse of Good Girl. 

Word count: ~4.4k 

You’re such a cute little thing.

Sitting on top of the big, pristine examination table, waiting for him while wearing an easy summer dress, square heels dangling from one side to the other as your hands fumble with your own fingers on your lap, eyes flying to him immediately as he enters the close space - big, bright eyes shining in the dull white hospital room, framed by beautiful eyelashes and soft makeup. Your tempting lips are almost deployed of lipstick from as much your teeth have punished the plush flesh.

“Hello.” Shirabu greets you with an easy smile, one that he doesn’t really use despite the little effort it takes.

“Oh, hi Doctor.” There’s an anxious smile on your lips and Shirabu feels a tingle start on his fingertips, climb his arm, spread down his back to burn in his guts. You’re so pretty when you’re nervous.

“How are we today? You can come and sit by the chair first.” Shirabu moves calmly, closing the door behind him; carefully turning the key without bringing attention. He’s still testing the waters but he can gather that you’re a trusting one, waiting to hear from him what exactly you need to do and then do it. 

“Ahhh, um… I’m good, just came for my annual checkup.” You say while taking a seat on the chairs, only risking one look up at his face, then lowering those eyes onto his coat, clearly reading his name. Your expression seems surprised… but pleased. Is it because he’s young or because he’s attractive? Shirabu can’t decide, but there’s a clear smile in his lips as he looks you over, then circles his way to sit behind the table.

“Is this your first time here? If not, when was your last appointment?” 

“Actually,” Your eyes meet his when your head angles up and you scurry them down as if you’re embarrassed. Your lips are once again suffering under your teeth before you free them and speak, “It’s my first. Like, ever.”

“Oh,” Shirabu let’s slip with a breath. There’s too much joy in that little sigh and in his tone when he asks, “Really?”

Your head goes up and down first, fingers fumbling, then you seem to remember that you need to speak with him, “Yes.”

“Do you have a medical file here already? Any complaints I should know?” Shirabu covers the usual bases first, calmly checking his agenda and time, how much he can have with you and how he can extend it.

“Hm… No complaints, except…” You fall silent for a moment and Shirabu can feel the burning in your face all the way through the table. 

“It’s okay.” He’s quick to tranquilize you, “I’m your Doctor, you can tell me anything.”

“I think my birth-control is… uh, how can I say this? Making me… a little numb?” You tell him in a low voice, a hint of worry slipping through as you try to send him a little embarrassed smile as if you’re worried he may feel bad about it. 

Shirabu is quick to smile back, so pleased at how you relax and melt back into yourself at the sight of it. He can’t help but think you’re such a good girl. “You didn’t answer the first question, though.”

 “It’s my first time in the clinic as well. A friend of mine recommended it to me.” You give a precious little giggle as if your nervousness scrambles your train of thought and Shirabu thinks it’s endearing, especially the fact that you’re a pretty little thing who doesn’t know best and you’ve ended right on his lap. 

Well, he plans to make the most of it.

“Hmm, understood. So, Miss… Is it Miss?” Shirabu sends you a charming smile, one he knows it’s good, and your eyes seem to flash with something at the sight of it, your throat bobbing right before your lips split in a little smile.

“Yes,” you giggle his way with a little roll of your eyes, as if it’s obvious and he makes a surprised face along with another dazzling smile. Shirabu has smiled more in the last ten minutes than n his whole week and he’s face will soon protest.

“Really? You’re so pretty, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had already planted a ring on your finger.” God knows he would, and as fast as he could, too. 

You bite at your lips to avoid a smile planting itself in your face, eyes fleeing from his as your hands fist your dress and you left a little breathy laugh out. As if he’s being ridiculous. 

“Okay Miss, so since it’s your first time doing this check-up, I’ll need you to do a few things for me, okay?”

“Sure, Doctor.” God, that shouldn’t mess him up as it does, the hairs on his arm standing on edge at the delicious sound of it in your voice.

“I’ll need you to go to that bathroom right there, strip all your clothes including underwear and change into the paper gown that’s right on top of a cabinet there. Leave the opening to the front and then come back to sit at that examination table right there. Can you do this for me?”

“Of course, Doctor.” Warmth spreads from his body, rolls thick with his blood around his limbs and starts concentrating south. Jesus, you’ll be his demise like this.

“Good. Now go.”

Once you’re out of sight, Shirabu makes arrangements. And when you come back, clad in nothing but a paper-thin gown that leaves little to the imagination, he buttons his coat as long as it goes. Just to be sure.

His eyes thread carefully over your barely concealed body, enthralled by how your breathing comes in quick puffs of air, goosebumps rising on your skin under the cold temperature of the room. Pressing against the warmth of his palm at the slight touch of his fingers on your shoulder. 

“You can sit at the examination table. We’ll start with a breast exam before you lie down, okay?” Shirabu knows his voice is sweeter than usual; carefully built in a trusty tone, words rolling off his mouth a little deeper, a little low - all just so he can assure he has your attention. 

 “I’ll start with a breast exam and then you can lie down.” He explains his steps one by one, so when he opens the front of the barely existing paper gown, all you do is take a sharp breath and slowly let the air out. So nice. Such a good girl for him.

He carefully brings his fingers to glide over the outskirts of your breasts, pressing on your flesh with steady, slow to warm digits. Shirabu feels as you fidget slowly when he circles the flesh once, slow and deliberate with the pressure he applies. “I’m checking for any unusual lumps around the tissue,” Shirabu tells that so close to your face he can feel the warm wave of air your gasp lets out at his words, and he pretends the little taste does nothing for him despite the way his blood boils in his veins. 

He does the same circular motion a second time, then a third time in reverse, and all but grin in his self-satisfied way when he notices the shy nub stand to attention. Your brows are furrowed even from such little stimulation, throat bobbing as your mouth sucks cold puffs of breaths inside your lungs. 

Shirabu’s digits slide up your collarbone, then press together in a quick motion from all the way up to under your breast, stealing just the slight touch over your erected nipple. 

“Please put your hand over my shoulder,” Shirabu says carefully, detached; and is delighted when you push a little dazed “what” out your swollen lips. 

He can’t help but smirk; poor little lamb is lost to the wolf around her - and his claws are already in. 

“Like this, honey.” His hand takes yours in his, open your palm with his fingers to press it on his shoulder, a wide-angle that gives him better access and provides for a comfortable examination. 

“Hm, okay!” You strangle it out, cute and bashful and Shirabu feels his slacks getting tighter.

“Good,” he breathes close to your face and restarts his movements, digits massaging up and down your chest, right side first as his fingertips get together to start to draw patterns from outside until the center in a repeated motion that ends with just a barely-there, butterfly touch over your nipples as he does a careful glide around the circle.

Your shoulders tremble and curve inwards as your abdomen seizes, hints of your pleasure that Shirabu can pinpoint even without his medical expertise. It makes his heart soars; such a little innocent thing that you can’t even speak up about it, just quietly suffering from the need growing inside you until you’ll burst.

His hand stops under your breast to weigh it, palm covering the extension of flesh as his thumb slides in a fond motion to the sides. 

“Now I’ll do the left,” Shirabu announces and feels as you tense, eyes looking up at him in a lost haze even as you blink and nod. There’s a small storm brewing inside your eyes clouding them over, as if you’re struggling to catch up to his fingers, trying to fully wrap around his motions and still falling victim of your innocence, agreeable and placid, trained and directed to respect authority. 

Dr. Shirabu knows best, you’re probably thinking as you nod once again, hands grabbing at anything they can to hide their trembling. Then he starts his ministrations by rolling your nipple with his thumb, drawing a gasp from you.

 “Oh, sorry,” Shirabu says with fake sorrow before he starts the circling massage around your breasts once again. 

A humming agreement is all you answer him, lips pressed together as if you’re embarrassed by the noise you’ve left. Oh, poor little thing. 

He can’t wait to ruin you.

Shirabu wonders if you can notice how he changes the motions of his fingers this time around, pressing closer to the center and around the halo of your breast as he kneads the delicious mound with his digits. 

Your knees are practically pressed together and you’re struggling to hold your shoulders up in a straight line and Shirabu is absolutely delighted at causing your downfall with such little, fickle things as the point of his fingers.

He waits for the moment where your teeth close sharply over your swollen lips, holding both breath and noise inside, and angles both his hands to press under your breasts, upwards motion that is a good excuse for groping - not that you’d know. Your spine curves as your head turn down in waves of burning hot embarrassment at your own behavior and Shirabu simply has to move before he does something bad.

Well, worst.

 “All done,” he tells you with a small curve on his lips as he steps back. You wait for him to turn before letting a breath out, but even that sounds sharp in the silence of the room. Shirabu hides his hands from your eyes in his pockets, fingers twitching in the absence of your smooth skin under his digits.

“Now we’ll pass to the examination.” The little tremble in your frame is enough to add twisting fire into his veins, temperature rising even when the air conditioning is running low. Shirabu does his best in making his voice sound unaffected and neutral, walking over to the stirrups and adjacent dressing table where he keeps his medical gloves.

“You can lie down and put your legs over the supports.” 

“Yes, Doctor.”

You obey like a good girl, the simple motion already flashing him the precious skin underneath, legs spread wide open and immobilized. Anxious eyes look for his in reassurance, then seem to think better of it as they fall down to watch your open legs. The view making you squirm once again in the padded table. 

So precious.

And trusting.

Your hands are clasped over your belly in an attempt to keep them from fidgeting, eyes eagerly fleeting between Shirabu’s frame and the ceiling. He sends a smile your way as he pulls the chair close to the stirrups and your disconcert is practically charming. 

When Shirabu walks over to sit between your open legs, his cock strains against his slacks, immoral coil twisted hard at the small peak of heavenly skin, of glistening folds swollen by the blood flow.

If only he could lick it.

There’s a tremble to your form that he can’t pinpoint, but the wide-open arch of your legs immobile over the stirrups clear are involved in; that, and the pulsating arousal in your center, if the way you’re throbbing open for him is any indication. 

Shirabu had considered going slow, threading carefully before taking what he wants, but the fortitude of his mind is being challenged by the view alone: You, laying on the table, legs spread and skin glowing. It’s wicked. Shirabu wishes so much to taste, but he’s snapping his gloves on instead. 

 “Are you sexually active?” He makes small talk, chair sounding loud in the silent room as he finally takes his place on it.

“I’m, uh, not for a while.”

“Any unprotected intercourse?”

“Hm... N-no.” Huh. Shirabu doubts he was able to hide the motion in his lips signaling that the little slip in your tone isn’t lost. “Are you certain? We may need to do a test, just to be sure.”

Your eyes fleet to him, shining in the artificial illumination, flustered expression as you down them for your clasped hands after. It’s rather endearing to watch as your anxious behavior spike, the way you’re unable to twist or move, pinned there by physical barrier more than just his eyes.

“It’s possible.” You answer him, meek, and he tries not to smile. “But I’ve been on the pill.”

“Ok, then. You mentioned numbness. Did you mean during intercourse or just in general?”

“Sometimes general, but normally when I’m… touching… myself.”

Oh well. What a nice little improvement. His eyes bore on yours between the valley of your legs, the air surrounding you both turning thicker. 

“Understood. I’m going to be touching you now.”

You nod, and then gasp when his hands actually touch the inside of your open thighs, a light caress to satiate the need to know how soft and plush you feel, and it’s exactly as much as you look. You suck in a breath slowly, and Shirabu lets his fingers slide up to your hot center.

“I’ll start with the pelvic exam. If you feel any pain or discomfort, just say so.” You nod and he starts slowly, two gloved fingers carefully threading over the swollen labia with acute precision, circling motions as he caresses the underside of your most sensitive place and downwards, rounds the dripping wet entrance, and sliding back up, fingers opening in a “v” motion, a small twirl around the engorged nub above it all. “I’m making an exterior exam, any numbness?”

You nod your negative. Eyes barely holding themselves open, teeth sunk on your lips. “Tell me if you either don’t feel anything or feel anything hurting.”

“Okay,” it’s mostly a whine, breath leaving your mouth as soon as you open it. He descends a third finger over your sex, up and down circling motions that rip a groan from your throat.

“Does anything hurt?” Shirabu’s voice is collected, calm, a stark contrast to the throbbing length in his pants. “Numb?”

“I...don’t think so?” You’re trembling, voice breathless as the stirrups squeaking under the strain of your thighs and Shirabu’s other hand comes up, palm planting over your pelvis, feeling the soft skin and then pressing his palm on it.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a problem with sensibility.” He tries to reassure you as his fingers thread to your entrance, indicator slowly tracing the tight circle pulsating in front of his eyes. You’re dripping wet, soaking his gloves and all he can think is what a delicious little patient.

“I’ll be entering you now, okay? There’s no need for the speculum, so I’m performing a touch exam.” 

“Oh-kay, doctor,” comes your little gruff voice, putty under his hands and opening up nicely for his fingers when he presses inside. You’re tight, wonderfully so, clinging to his gloved fingers. Shirabu angles them up and deep, your blistering warmth spreading from his digits to his arm and then his whole body. 

He’ll have to find a way to “test” you there, as well.  He doesn’t retreat his fingers, but he aims the motions of them inside and above, looking for the sensitive place that’s bound to make you-

“Ah!” 

There it is. Shirabu chuckles and rounds the place with his digits as your knees buckle inside then angling out, spreading wide. He retreats his fingers, rolling them with a little scissoring, then plunges deeper inside as an excuse of trying to reach your cervix. If only he could use his cock- that’d be way easier.

“And now?” Shirabu asks, wicked. “Any pain? Numbness?”

“N-uhnn-” You try to speak but choke on a soft moan, your hands flying to your face as you swallow and answer him back in a trembling tone, “No.”

“Anything else?” It’s teasing, clearly, but you don’t seem to notice it, dazed eyes searching for him as you wet your mouth before speaking.

“It feels… weird.”

“Really? ” Shirabu spreads his fingers a bit, rolls them to feel around your walls. “Why’s that?”

“I- I don’t know. It’s… good.”

“Hmmm… That’s interesting.” His gloved thumb descends over your labia, rolls over your clitoris with strict precision, fingers angling inside to meticulously hit that special place once again. The table squeaks under the strength of your buckling, open cunt pulsating around his fingers in plain view for his appreciative eyes. “You seem to be a bit oversensitive, not numb.”

“Is that- a problem?” You say between breaths as Shirabu’s thumb rolls over your clit. He’s astonished you don’t question any of his debatable moves, only looking at him with dazed, soft eyes. 

“Depends. Do you always leak like this? It can be a condition.” Shirabu presses his palm over your pelvic bone, angle his fingers meticulously and swirl your clitoris with his thumb in firm precision. You moan and immediately recoil in embarrassment, mouth agape in your own surprise. Shirabu scissors his fingers in a rotating motion, inside and out for barely a few seconds and your spine arches off the table, mouth falling in a wide “o” as you tremble on his examination table.

Delicious.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answer in a breath.

Shirabu palms his length to release the pressure, cock straining at the soft expression of rapture on your eyes. “Everything seems good inside; But maybe you’re sensitive. I’ll keep that in mind for the next exams.”

“Is it… done?”

“Almost.” Shirabu smiles, but it's a be-ready-for-trouble one. “All we need is the ultrasound for the internal exam.”

“I thought you had just-”

“This one was the touch one, the next one is done with the ultrasound equipment. It will be inserted inside and then I’ll be able to take a good look at your uterus health.”

“Oh, okay.”

You seem focused on catching your breath as your stretched hole keeps winking at him, as if begging for more. Unfortunately, Shirabu has to move on. He pulls the equipment table close, moves the screen to the side and at a fairly inaccessible angle for your eyes. The transducer reminds a wand, long, shaped anatomically thin with a slightly larger head, barely two-fingers girth. 

“Have you ever orgasmed before? Sensitive dysfunction can make it harder for women to achieve sexual gratification.”

“I… actually don’t know…”

Shirabu slides a condom on it, drops a generous amount of lube over it and then turns to you with a smile. Your legs twitch and your walls clench and he has a strike of brilliance right there as he eyes the pretty furl of muscle under your pleading pussy.

You yelp as he brings a lubed finger to draw rings over your rear, embarrassed eyes quickly searching for his.

“Doctor?!”

“Oh, sorry. The equipment goes in anally. Didn’t I mention that?”

“No?!” You groan, surprised, a soft breath escaping your lips.

“Sorry. I’m just preparing you, passing something to help it.” Shirabu explains, as a liar, and slowly work you open with his indicator pressing inside - carefully, slowly, with clinical precision until his whole knuckle is inside and your breathing is labored, open pussy throbbing for something he can’t give it to you just yet. How precious. “I’m inserting it now. Please tell me if it hurts.”

Shirabu angles the device on the lubed hole and watches, enthralled, as your ass swallows it’s wider head whole with just the first push, the rest of the body following easily as the tight ring presses the overflowing lube out. Fuck. Shirabu’s cock is weeping uncontrollably inside his slacks and he carefully brings a hand to help with the tightness of his pants, opening it enough to allow his thick length to escape free, but still covered by his lab coat.

Then Shirabu presses the device deeper, the angle sharp. He brings the receptor over your belly, presses way to closer to the apex of your sex. “Does it hurts?”

“No,” you breathe out, dazed.

“Does it feel good?”

“...Yes,” you sigh.

“Hmmm, interesting.” Shirabu retreats it, pretending to angle it somewhere else. He moves the equipment a bit more and your knees tremble as your pussy starts to drip on the floor. Jesus, that’s fucking hot. He leaves the receptor over your skin to fly his hand to his cock, slowly pumping it to relieve the throbbing ache. You’re way too lost in your own pleasure to notice his, and that only makes him more feral.

“You can feel something entering you now, but it’s just another equipment,” Shirabu says as he abandons his aching cock to slide two fingers inside your pleading hole, instead. He’s not even sure you understood his warning. Cute. 

“Doctor,” you breathe, almost panicked and Shirabu rolls his thumb over your clit to hear you yelp, your ass tight around the transductor as he scissors his fingers on your wide-open cunt.

“Yes?” 

“I feel... “ You sound so wrecked and lost, a shiver wandering down Shirabu’s spine as his throat bobs. Your pussy throbs around his fingers, begging for something it can’t even pinpoint. Poor thing.

“Pain?” 

“No? Something… else.” Such a cute breathless voice, chest heaving with rabbit-fast beats that Shirabu almost can feel on his fingers deep inside your soaking walls. 

“Pleasure?” He offers, fighting the need to smile at how your confused expression, brows furrowed as you try to think of another word but come ultimately short.

“I…” You start but bite your lips to hold the noise at how he aims at your special spot. Then blink twice, still losing the fight against the thick pleasure fog in your mind. “I guess?”

“Wow.” You’re so honest. Shirabu’s surprise is fairly genuine. He hopes his tone sounds more understanding than completely hungry. “Well… It’s not unusual for patients to feel arousal by exams considering their invasive nature. It’s okay, don’t panic.”

“But,” You start, tense and writhing, but Shirabu stands up, the equipment in your ass changing angle but his eyes are finding yours in the distance. 

“It’s okay,” Shirabu repeats and you listen, hazed eyes focused entirely on him. “Take a deep breath.” 

You obey so well, mouth opening as you breathe deep, chest filling even when Shirabu slowly edges the equipment out of your tight asshole. The fingers inside your pussy don’t stop, though, and he brings his other hand, now free, to aid him in wrecking you. “Now surrender to it. Let it wash over you…” 

“I…” You whine and tense, but then his two hands are gliding over every erogenous zone on your labia with acute expertise, and you let go, bones essentially melting under his ministrations; letting out a soft, obedient, won over, “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He tells you and rotates his fingers in and out, keeping you nice, wet and wide. You’re close. Shirabu can feel it in how you’re swelling around him. “You’re an amazing patient, Miss. Just do as I say and I’m telling you to cum.” That does it, as your head angles back, hands holding yourself and the table as you take a deep breath.

“Yes, doctor,” You whisper and moan, surrendering to the intense orgasm that pulses suddenly through you and quivers around his fingers. It’s beautiful to watch you come undone, legs trembling sharply as they’re held wide open, pussy fluttering in a wave of wetness that joins the puddle on the ground, mouth open as your tongue slides past it, eyes rolling inside your skull and probably seeing white. 

Shirabu never feels tired of it, finally angling himself to bend over your frame, mouth looking for yours quickly as he breaks character.

“Keijiro,” you sigh, pleasure-drunk and Shirabu licks over your open lips, bites on your jaw, sucks the skin to leave his marks. 

“Yes, love.” He answers against your pulse point and you lets out a satisfied sigh by his ear.

“That was amazing.”

“You think so?” Shirabu rolls his hips against your bare, soaked wet pussy, and his free cock rolls deliciously between the lubricated folds. “I’m just starting, though, Miss. I think you’ll need a more thorough exam, though. With special equipment too.” He brings his hand to angle his cock on your entrance, eyes locked on yours as you blink and smile, blissed out and pleading. Shirabu presses himself inside and you throw your head back in bliss, hands planting on his shoulders with sharp nails aiming for his skin. “Such a good patient I have. Open wide, love.” 

You arch your head back to look up at him, mouth falling open on command, for Shirabu to do as he pleases. You, wide open on his table, for him to do as he pleases. He’s your husband after all and you’ve learned from a long time that what pleases Dr. Shirabu Kenjiro the most is picking you apart piece by piece, white bliss searing your every nerve-end as you fall and shatter for him, drowning under his thumb as he holds you down waves of pleasure, dragging you like the tide - strong and unyielding until it hurts to even breathe. 

The mere thought of having more makes your lips fall open in a moan, “yes, Doctor.” 

Because you love everything about that.