#and her condition just slowly got worse and worse over the years

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

I get where she's coming from, but gun's mom asking tinn not to tell gun she's seriously ill, is something VERY big that she shouldn't be putting on his shoulders like that. I get that she wants to make sure gun can really put all his attention towards the hot wave competition but this is so incredibly unfair towards both tinn and gun.

[probably-writing-x]

Hotter and Hotter

Summary: hi 👋🏼 I don’t know if you take any request now but I will still ask.. Can you write about the scene of the grocery when Conrad just lean on and take a sip (he was soo f hot ) and make it like more flirty and it can go like you want between Conrad x yn? thanks u ❣️

Warnings: Sexual references (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’m not taking requests atm but this came through and I was inspired so maybe I am taking requests, we’ll never know xoxo

“This is the hottest it’s ever been I swear to God,” Conrad grumbles from the couch, hand resting on his chest.

“Well you try and fix the air con then, because it’s doing fucking nothing when we try,” Steven shrugs his shoulders, his head resting back against the seats of the couch from where he sat on the floor.

“You’re an engineer Steven, isn’t this like your job?” Belly points out, dragging her hair away from her face.

The air conditioning in the house had been out all morning and the temperature had been slowly rising with the sun. Now, it was stifling hot inside the house and just as bad outside too. And, clearly, the group were at their wit’s end.

“Okay, can we please stop talking about it? Like, can we talk about anything else?” You roll your eyes, your back against the couch where Conrad was laying, your head mere inches from his.

The two of you had been friends for years, ever since Belly and Steven had started coming to the summer house, you had too. The group of you were always inseparable whenever you were all in Cousins. But, before this summer, you and Conrad had realised your feelings for each other. He’d started calling you every night, texting you more and more often, and eventually the two of you spoke to each other more than anyone else. You’d both agreed, however, that is was not worth the drama for the rest of the group to know that anything was going on. You’d kept things completely private and, so far, it worked.

You’d turned up to the summer house this year terrified to see him again, and when you had done, it was like there was a weird tension that you’d never known before. There were sparks whenever he looked at you, electricity coursing through you whenever you briefly touched. You hadn’t even kissed the boy and yet all you could think about was doing so. It was driving you insane.

“Well, what else do you want to talk about, (y/l/n)?” He turns his head so that it is facing you but you keep your gaze averted away, worried he’ll make you blush.

“Anything,” You groan, “Like, seriously, it’s making it worse if all we talk about is how hot we are.”

He smirks, “You think you’re hot, (y/n)?”

You whip your head around to face him and roll your eyes, “Grow up, Con.”

His smirk remains, eyes trailing over your face as the conversation grows behind you. Jere and Belly were agreeing on getting into the pool and Steven was refusing to join them under the premise that he couldn’t find any swimming shorts in his suitcase.

“How about we head to the store?” Conrad suggests, pushing himself up to sit on the couch, “We can get some cold drinks, some ice cream, anything remotely cold.”

The group all sound into chorus of agreement and you nod too.

“Yeah, just get anything they’ve got,” You encourage, watching as he swings his legs over the side of the couch so that he’s sat next to you now, his knee bumping your shoulder.

“Oh, you’re coming with me,” He nudges you, “I need someone to help me push the cart.”

Conrad stretches out a hand to you and waits for you to take it.

“Right because that’s definitely a two person job,” You roll your eyes, taking the grip of his hand and pushing yourself up from the floor.

“Oh, absolutely it is,” Conrad shrugs his shoulders, walking out of the lounge towards the front door, grabbing his car keys on the way.

———

You sit in the passenger seat and he sets his hand behind your chair as he reverses, the air con in his car blasting enough for you to both cool down.

“Why didn’t we think of coming in your car earlier?” You question, glancing out of the window at the changing street beside you.

Conrad turns his head in your direction, “Because then they’d all want to come.”

You nod in agreement and fall silent, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“So, has anyone said anything about…”

“What? Me and you?” You finish the sentence for him, “Why? Do you think they know?”

Conrad smirks a little, “Jere told me that sometimes you talk in your sleep and he can hear you through his wall.”

You frown just slightly, cogs turning in the expectation of what he was about to say.

“Apparently he heard you call my name,” Conrad fully grins then, turning the car into another corner as he approaches the store.

You feel your face heat up more than the sun was capable of, your heart sinking a little, “I did… I mean he heard… what?”

Conrad chuckles gently and his hand moves from the wheel to squeeze your leg, “Oh come on, (y/l/n), I already knew you were obsessed with me.”

You clench your jaw and look away from him, the embarrassment seeping through you. He squeezes your bare leg again and keeps his hand there as he pulls into a space in the parking lot.

“Okay I’ll get a cart and I’ll meet you at the checkout,” You nod, taking a deep breath to relatively compose yourself as you get out of the car.

Conrad follows behind you, fighting back the smile on his face. He walks up behind you as you go to get a cart, his arms dropping to either side of your hands on the handle, thumbs brushing your pinky fingers.

“See, Ive just got so many questions,” He mumbles the words into your ear as his chin drops to your shoulder.

You feel a tingle go over your spine and quickly step out from underneath his arm, “And I won’t be answering them.”

Conrad persists, of course, pushing the cart into the store and following your every move.

You both take a silent sigh of relief at the feeling of the air con in the store, walking a little slower as if to revel in it for as long as possible.

“Okay, so what was this dream about?” Conrad asks, stopping the cart as you throw in a few items from the produce section.

You make brief eye contact with him in the coldest glare you can muster, “Con, I said we’re not talking about this.”

“I mean, it must’ve been pretty good for you to be calling my name,” He points out nonchalantly, throwing a few bags into the cart, “So, tell me what it was about?”

You spin on your heel and grip the end of the cart, squeezing down on the plastic as you look at him, “Conrad, I don’t remember, okay? Now can we please drop this because you’re being an asshole.”

He raises his hands as if in a gesture of surrender before placing them back on the cart and following you still in your slow steps around the aisles.

Conrad didn’t need to know to boost his ego, or to use it against you. He needed to know because the thought of you thinking of him like that made him feel like a kid with his first crush. He was infatuated, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

Things were awkward between the two of you now, and neither was willing to break the tension with any form of conversation.

You were embarrassed, of course you were. The chemistry between the pair of you had been sky high since you’d arrived back in Cousins - all of the awaited feelings of seeing each other again had come bubbling to the surface. And yet neither of you could do anything about it. So there it stayed - bubbling wildly on a surface that would not release. Of course you were thinking about him, how could you not be?

“Okay, you get the ice and pay for this, I’ll meet you at the car,” You nod, holding your shoulders a little more sure of themselves.

“Oh, so I’m paying?” Conrad raises his brows, stopping in his tracks with a bag of ice in his hands.

“Your daddy’s credit card will,” You taunt in response, disappearing around the corner of another aisle to leave him to his own devices.

Minutes later, Conrad appears through the sliding doors of the store, the fully loaded cart bumping in the parking lot in front of him. You’re stood by the car, waiting for him, two large drink cups in your hands.

“And what’s this?” He nods his head a little towards the drinks, eyes returning back to yours.

“A peace offering,” You shrug your shoulders, “I’m sorry I got annoyed about you asking about… I just, I was embarrassed and I didn’t want you to think I was some weird stalker that was obsessed with you or something.”

Conrad laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always manages to ease your worry. He steps out from around the cart so that he’s mere inches from you.

“You know,” He lowers his torso down to take a slow sip from the drink, darkened eyes staring up at you as he does, “If you wanted to be screaming my name in the night, you should’ve just asked.”

Your mouth falls agape slightly as all words seem to escape you.

“Come on, I’ll load this up before the ice cream starts melting,” He clears his throat, as if nothing had happened, “Get in the car.”

You oblige and sit in the passenger seat waiting for him as he piles the bags into the trunk, climbing into the driver’s seat shortly after.

He reaches over to take his cup from your hand and his fingers brush yours - still electric as you repeat over the words he’d just said.

“So, home?”

You hum in agreement and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you as he reverses out of the spot, unable to hide the smile tearing at your face.

———

“We’re back!” Conrad calls out as the two of you head inside, arms full of brown paper bags.

“Thank god!” Jere exclaims, grabbing a couple of the bags from you to alleviate the weight, “Successful trip?”

You and Conrad exchange a quiet glance before looking back and both saying at the same time, “Yeah.”

Jeremiah frowns at you and his brother, “You two are weird.”

He helps to unpack the shopping before turning back to both of you.

“Hey, Con, did you ask (y/n) about her dre-“

“Grow up Jere,” Conrad snaps quickly, throwing the last bag of ice into the freezer.

You look at him and smile a little to yourself, averting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his brother and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you once more.

“Here, they’ve not melted yet,” Conrad pulls an ice pop from one of the boxes and unwraps it, handing it to you.

You set down your drink and take hold of the wooden stick. Now was your chance to get him back. You make sure you’re stood as close as you can get to him, your eyes gazing upwards to focus on his. And you stick out your tongue, drawing it from the bottom to the top of the cold ice, not once breaking eye contact with Conrad as you pop the top in between your lips and suck gently before pulling away.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, and find yourself hiding back a grin at your obvious effect on him.

“What’s wrong Connie?” You ask him through batted eyelashes, “You look all… flustered.”

It’s almost as if you see the second that the cogs turn in his brain as his hands stretch out to grip your waist, both tightening to lift you up and onto the kitchen counter behind you.

And then, without a second thought, his hand grips your face and he pulls you in to kiss him. It’s rushed at first and overly fueled by passion but you don’t care. He can taste the sweetness on your lips and it only seems to encourage him more, kissing you like he’d been waiting to do so for years. His hand tightens once more on your waist, pulling you into him as closely as he can as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

Conrad pulls away then, only breaking contact at your lips to catch his breath as his forehead rests against yours.

“Don’t tease me,” He grumbles quietly, his lips plump in the absence of you.

You chuckle a little, nudging his head a little more, “From what just happened there, maybe I should be teasing you more often.”

Conrad smirks and pulls away, standing up straight as both of his hands settle on either side of you on the counter. He glances behind you at where the large glass doors lead out to the garden, “You know, nobody’s actually in the house.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse, “Yeah, looks like it’s just us.”

He takes the opportunity as you’re turned away to kiss at the exposed skin of your neck, his touch hotter than any weather was capable of.

You let out a quiet moan and grip the back of his head. Damn, he was good at this.

“Connie-“ You hum, pushing into him as closely as you can.

He smirks against you and pulls away, eyes widening slightly at the mark left on your skin from his lips.

“We should probably join the rest,” You comment, dragging your fingers through his hair.

He flutters his eyes closed at the contact and sighs, “Five more minutes.”

Conrad leans in to kiss you again but stops as he hears;

“Conrad! Can you bring the ice pops out?” It’s Stephen yelling to the pair of you.

You look at Conrad and laugh a little, hopping down from the countertop, “Come on, before they suspect anything.”

“I think that mark on your neck will make them suspect enough.”

You bend down to take the ice pop box from the freezer and reach one hand behind your head to untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.

“There we go, it’s like it never happened,” You wiggle your eyebrows and saunter outside towards the garden.

Conrad watches as you go, a smile on his face before his eyes drop to the barely-touched ice pop you’d both discarded onto the counter.

Thank god for hot weather.

[stardust-and-snickerdoodles]

tired and i'm awake

fandom: Chicago Med

pairing: Connor Rhodes x Reader

summary: You've kept your chronic pain a secret from Connor since you started dating. But fate has other plans for you, and an untimely accident leads to him finding out about your condition.

tags/warnings: angst, injury, burns, hurt/comfort, chronic pain/illness

word count: 3024

a/n: this one's for all my EDS/POTS combo girlies

When you were young, the doctors said it was “growing pains.” That eventually it would go away, that it was only temporary, take an Advil.

Then you got older, and it was your period. Even though the pain was constant and all over, somehow every doctor put it down to your cycle. Sure, it was worse when you were menstruating, but it didn’t disappear when you weren’t.

Sometimes, you were “making it up” or “drug seeking.” ER visits, annual physicals, all proved fruitless. Eventually, it was all just too much to handle. The constant doctors’ visits, the unending questions with no answers. You’re tired.

Even when you lay on the bathroom floor, curled around yourself and sobbing, you refuse to go to the doctor. You know it won’t amount to anything, just another bill and insurance paperwork. You manage on your own with 3 extra strength Tylenol or a heating pad or just laying in bed until it mostly subsides. Then you can get up and pretend to be okay again.

So, it was a bit of a surprise to everyone who knows of your issues when you started dating a surgeon. Hell, you even surprised yourself. But Connor is… different. He’s kind and understanding and patient. Still, your previous negative experiences prevent you from telling him about the chronic pain you experience, or any of the other problems that come along with it.

You’ve been dating now for about six months and you couldn’t be happier. Connor’s hours are busy and long, but you look forward to the end of every day when you can see him. Even if it means putting on a brave face when your joints ache. You moved in together about a month ago, and it’s a little harder to hide the pain now, but you manage. You don’t want to be just another patient for him to deal with.

Today, you have a feeling it’s going to be a little more difficult to put on your façade. Your knees and hips have been acting up lately. Everything feels… a bit looser than usual, like the tissues between your joints are made of thin string, ready to break at any movement. Each movement feels as though you’re going to rip yourself apart, limb from limb. It’s all you can do not to cry out when you finally pry yourself out of bed in the morning. Connor is already gone, having left sometime in the middle of the night, off to work his shift at the ED. You hope beyond hope that the pain will have subsided by the time he gets home tonight.

You hope that maybe a warm bath with some Epsom salts will help, and take short, shuffling steps to the bathroom, walking near the wall just in case. Each footfall sends shooting pain up your legs. You grit your teeth and manage to make it to the toilet, sitting down and reaching to turn the tap on the bath. Breathing in and out slowly, you remind yourself that you have this under control. You will survive this, it’s just pain. It’s just pain.

You stare as the tub fills with water, trying your best to compartmentalize and clear the pain away. Mind over matter, that’s what your mother always says. Easy for her, when she’s not the one in pain.

Feeling as though you might break with any sudden moves, you lower yourself into the warm bath, closing your eyes as the water surrounds you. It’s calming and smells like eucalyptus.

You linger until the water is cooled and your joints begin to protest from staying in one position too long. You wrap a fluffy robe around yourself, a gift from Connor after he saw the old ratty one you’d been using for years. It’s luxurious and soft, and probably cost him the equivalent of an entire week’s salary for you. Perks of dating a surgeon, you suppose.

Just standing has you feeling lightheaded, and you can feel your heart beating in your ears. For a moment the room darkens as spots fill your vision, but you just breathe in deeply until it subsides. Then you continue to take small steps back out to the bedroom, before placing yourself gingerly on the comforter.

Once you’re still and laying down, the pain begins to creep back in with force. It just reminds you that as much as you want to, you can’t ignore it. You can compartmentalize and convince yourself all you want, but you’re stuck with this.

Now, along with your hips and knees, your back and neck have begun to ache from sitting upright in the tub. You sigh and curl onto your side, your wet hair clinging to your neck. Five minutes, you tell yourself. Then I’ll get up and get dressed and dry my hair and… God, it’s all so much. How are you ever supposed to get all of that done when you feel like this? Still, you reprimand yourself and promise only five minutes of rest. Just until the aching diminishes somewhat.

You wake to the sound of the door unlocking. Night has fallen outside the window, leaving the apartment bathed in darkness.

So much for five minutes.

Connor walks in, looking tired and worn out, but still wearing a smile when he spots you curled up on the bed. You smile back, still groggy from your extended nap.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, setting his bag down before taking a seat next to you. “How was your day?”

“Good,” you lie easily. “How was work?”

Connor smooths some errant hairs away from your forehead before placing a soft kiss there. “Busy. But good. Did you shower? Your hair’s still wet.”

A fierce blush makes its way up your cheeks as you avoid his eyes. “Took a bath. I guess I just passed out after. Baths always take it out of me,” you half-joke.

Connor’s brow furrows and you can immediately sense the switch into “doctor mode.” He places the back of his hand on your forehead again. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure, pulling his hand down to your lips to plant a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Do you want dinner? I can make something.” The ache in your joints begins to make itself known again, but you want to do something nice for Connor. You know how tired he is after his shifts.

“Sure,” Connor replies, but he’s still looking at you with concern.

You slowly sit up, trying to school your expression as something pinches in your hip. “Spaghetti? I think we have some noodles leftover from the other night; I can just make a quick sauce.”

Connor nods and stands with you. “I’m gonna go shower,” he states while pulling you into a loose hug. “Do you need anything before I go?”

You shake your head and breathe him in. He smells like the hospital, but underneath that is the gentle scent of his cologne that always relaxes you. “No, you go. I can handle it.”

Connor releases you and makes his way to the bathroom while you head to the kitchen. You feel incrementally better than this morning, the pain in your back and neck thankfully lessened. Your hips are the worst now, and the right one especially feels tenuous. Each step is shaky, but you push through it.

You’re grateful for the distraction of cooking as you work on dinner, but it’s not enough to totally take away the pain. As you stand over the stove you can still feel the pulsing in your knees, the unsteadiness in your hips, and the ache in your back is returning. You barely suppress a groan as your right hip nearly gives out.

Seconds later, the door to the bathroom opens, and Connor exits with just a pair of jeans slung low on his hips. For a moment you’re tempted to stop cooking altogether and take him right back to bed. But then your right hip protests yet again, and the thought quickly flees. You shoot Connor a smile as he comes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. His chin rests on your shoulder and you tense imperceptibly. Illogical as it may seem, you’re worried maybe he’ll… feel your pain or something, if he gets too close.

“Smells good,” Connor murmurs, kissing the side of your neck.

“Grab some plates,” you reply, stirring the spaghetti sauce one more time before turning off the heat.

Connor’s arms leave you and you let out a breath. You grab some potholders from a nearby cabinet and pull the sauce off the stove.

As you make your way over to the table, your hip begins to feel even more unsteady than before. Each step is agony as you grip the saucepot, praying that your leg doesn’t give out now. Connor’s back is to you when suddenly you step wrong. Instantly, you feel a popping sensation in your hip and you stumble.

The pot goes flying, splattering sauce all over you and the kitchen. You crumble to the floor, a short cry leaving your lips. The sauce burns your thighs, uncovered thanks to the robe you still wear, but all you can feel is the burning pain in your hip. It feels… wrong.

It’s not exactly a new experience. A few years ago – with no help from your doctors – you finally realized that this type of pain means something is dislocated. In this case, your hip. It’s one of the worst to dislocate, since you have trouble getting it back in place on your own.

Connor immediately rushes toward you, calling your name in panic. “Are you okay? Oh god, what happened?”

You grit your teeth to stop from crying out again as you right yourself with your leg out in front of you. Your hand grips your right thigh, the pain from your dislocated hip shooting down your leg and making your toes numb.

Connor’s already pulling out his phone to call 911, obviously only seeing the burns on your legs from the hot sauce.

You reach out to grab his wrist to stop him from dialing. “I’m fine,” you insist, tears brimming in your eyes.

Connor levels you with a glare that would make anyone give in. “You just spilled scalding sauce all over yourself. You’re at least getting checked out at the ED.”

“Okay, okay, but… Can’t you just drive me?”

He must hear the pleading tone in your voice because he sets his phone down with a sigh. “Fine,” he surrenders. “Let’s get you cleaned up first so I can take a look.”

You nod as he stands to retrieve towels. Once his back is turned, you take mental stock of your hip. It doesn’t feel too badly dislocated, but it certainly needs to be put back sooner rather than later. Before you get a chance to do it yourself, Connor returns with wet towels. He immediately gets to work gingerly cleaning your skin. You can tell that you’ve at least got first-degree burns, maybe even second in some places. But you can’t get past the pain in your hip. If you could just get a moment alone so you could reset it…

You notice that Connor’s movements have stopped and you look to see what he’s doing. His brows are furrowed as he looks at your right leg, now clean of the sauce. “Doesn’t look too bad, but I still want to go to Med just to be sure. And…” Suddenly his eyes widen and his hands rest delicately on either side of your leg. You can’t help but flinch at the touch. “It looks like your hip is dislocated… God, that must hurt. Did you hit it on the ground when you fell?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “It’s nothing,” you insist.

“Y/N,” Connor’s voice is firm. “We need to get this reduced. I’m calling an ambulance,” he says, pulling out his phone once more.

“No!” you cry. “I can take care of it!” Before he can stop you, you bend your knee outward, making a half-butterfly shape with your legs, then push down on it with your hands. Your hip pops back into place with an audible click and the relief is instant.

Connor is silent for a long moment as he stares at you, mouth agape.

You speak before he can, blabbering without much sense. “It’s fine, it happens a lot. I’m okay, I promise.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes are wide with concern and empathy. “What do you mean?” he whispers.

You shrug and take the wet towel from his hand, continuing to wipe off the sauce from your other thigh. This one’s not as bad as your right, but it’s still painful. “Nothing, Connor. I just… It happens sometimes, okay? Dislocating things, it’s not new to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Connor’s voice is so full of hurt that you immediately regret keeping this from him.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, meeting his eyes. The tears in your own begin to fall down your cheeks. “I just… I’ve always dealt with it on my own. I didn’t want you to have to deal with it too. And I didn’t know if you’d believe me, no one ever believes me, and I didn’t want to lose you because of my broken body…” You’re rambling now, the adrenaline and pain making your words come out jumbled.

Connor scoots over to sit next to you, uncaring of the sauce that’s getting on his jeans. His arm wraps around you gently, and already you can feel that he’s treating you differently. Touching you like you’re… fragile. “Y/N… I would never not believe you about something like this. Have you gone to the doctor about it?”

A sob leaves your lips and you smile sarcastically. “Of course, I have, Connor. I’ve been to so many doctors and none of them have any answers. It’s always growing pains, or my period, or I’m faking it. Eventually I just gave up because, like I said, I can deal with it on my own.”

Connor is silent for a long while. Finally, he lifts your chin with his finger so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to deal with it on your own now. We’re together, and that means we tell each other these things. I won’t leave you because of something you can’t control, sweetheart. And I want you to find answers. We can find them together. Okay?”

You nod and Connor goes to dial 911 again. As he’s on the phone with the operator, you let the tears fall. The pain of the burns is finally hitting you, only adding to the existing pain you already feel. Connor’s words mean everything to you, but right now that’s all they are – words. How can you know he’ll stay with you after he finds out what this really is like? The constant pain, the days spent in bed, the agony of it all? How could anyone – how could Connor – ever want someone like you?

You don’t realize that Connor is done on the phone until his hand lands on your shoulder. “Babe?” his voice is a little louder than necessary, which tells you that he’s been trying to get your attention for a while.

“Sorry,” you mutter, using the back of your hand to wipe away errant tears.

Connor takes a deep breath, and you worry about what he’s going to say. “You can talk to me, you know?”

You nod, avoiding his eyes. “I know. But this… I don’t want to be just another person you have to take care of.” The sound of sirens grows loud outside the apartment building.

“Honey. Look at me,” Connor urges, lifting your chin again. “You are not just another patient to me. You never will be. Okay?”

“You don’t know,” you whisper, your voice suddenly hoarse. “Once you know what it’s like, how much help I’ll need… I don’t know what my life will be like in 10 years, hell, even in a year. I’m in pain all the time, and I don’t know if it will get worse, and I don’t want you to be burdened with that.”

Before Connor can answer, the intercom buzzes as the paramedics request entrance. Connor stands to let them in, and you bring your sore legs up so you can bury your head in your knees. The embarrassment of it all is starting to hit you as you realize that soon you’ll be at Med, surrounded by Connor’s colleagues. No doubt he’ll want to run a myriad of tests to figure out your underlying condition, and you’re not sure you have the energy for that right now.

You hear the door opening, followed by a couple pairs of footsteps and Connor’s voice getting closer. “Female, 27, post-fall and contact with hot liquid. Superficial partial thickness burns on the thighs. Right hip dislocated but already reduced.” You hold in a snort at his medical jargon describing your silly accident.

The paramedics aren’t anyone you know, but they’re nice enough as they examine the burns and apply saline-soaked gauze. You’re embarrassed by your lack of proper clothing, but they don’t seem to mind. You’re sure they’ve seen worse than a nearly-naked woman anyway.

They ask various questions while Connor watches nearby, eyes slightly narrowed as if to make sure they don’t hurt you further. Once you’re finally loaded up onto a stretcher, he returns to your side and holds your hand in a crushing grip.

“This is really unnecessary,” you mutter at him, squeezing his hand.

Connor looks down at you with a soft smile. “Doctor knows best, sweetheart.” He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay if you don’t want. As long as you get that hip x-rayed and those burns checked, I’ll be satisfied. We can figure out the rest later.”

You smile back, tears pricking your eyes again. “Thank you, Connor. For being here.”

He snorts out a laugh. “You really have to raise your standards, baby.”

[dsybouquet]

ceo! ellie - 3

what if a broke uni student met the ceo of one of the most impactful companies right now? without her even knowing?

lowercase is intentional

read part 1 aaaand part 2 right here ! xx

"good to see you, ellie."

"hey dina."

ellie lightly said, giving her lawyer a hug. she in fact was relived to see the silghtly older woman sitting in her office chair, smiling ever so lightly.

"what's the news?"

the ceo asked, lighting herself a cigarette before loosening the hair tie that hold her bun together. she looked at the slightly older woman with confused eyes.

"good or bad news first?"

"good i guess?"

she sat down besides dina to have a look at the lawyers screen, like she would understand all the paragraphs and lawyer language she had all over her desktop.

it‘s been a while since ellie and dina had so much to discuss. when ellie became ceo, they would talk every day, also about non business topics. sometimes they both wonder how they grew apart like this.

"good news is, we will not get sued!"

dina exclaimed, clapping her hands slightly. she threw an encouraging smile at ellie.

"the client is mad, however.. they have a different way for you to make up for it. so the bad news is-"

"let me guess, our yearly charity event should be in honor to them instead of joel?“

the blackhaired woman raised an eyebrow.

"i mean, yeah kinda. they want to be more represented.“

ellie got up from her seat and walked around the office. the smoke of her cigarette hugging her face every time she blew it out.

„did i ever mention how i despise abby sometimes?“

„like every other day.“

dina just laughed it off, she knew how much of an temper ellie could have - and over the years it got just worse.

„no like, seriously. ever since joel died in that car crash i have to deal with her bullshit and i can‘t do anything because they are the biggest client we have!“

and here it goes. ellie threw her cigarette in the ashtray before slumping on her office chair again.

joels death resulted in her taking his place - being the ceo of miller enterprises. and as much as she loved the money and the big cars and the responsibility, she also hated it. none of this is her‘s, it‘s joels. he did all the work, she just had to be next in line.

he had adopted her years after his daughter has passed away due to an medical condition. to say the least, ellie was a rough child and teen. she was loud, sarcastic and had her own will. of course she would listen to joel, after all he wad the only parental figure she had ever have.

„it‘s almost five years now.“

she mumbled, looking at her desk.

ellie hated christmas season and winter. she hated the snow and the beautiful lights. she hated it because it reminded her of him. of the call from dina, the hours in the hospital, the beeping sound of the machine that so desperately tried to keep him alive.

„i know.“

dina added, leaning against ellie’s table. she gave her a encouraging smile.

„how about we start the planning tomorrow? go home and have a good nights rest.“

and so ellie left the office with a small goodbye to dina and went back to her car. she sat down in the drivers seat. as much she loved her car, she didn’t want to drive.

tears slowly build up in her eyes, but she quickly swallowed it when she saw an unfamiliar book on the passenger seat. a book about.. the human psyche ?

you must have forgotten it when ellie dropped you off at home.

„damn it.“

she said under her breath and whipped out her phone, calling your number immediately. and to her surprise you picked up very fast.

„hey ellie! are you okay ?“

your voice was so gentle, ellie was about to die from it’s sweetness.

„hey dear. yeah don’t worry. uh- you forgot your book in my car. need me to drop it off ?“

there was some noise on the background, sounding like you fumbling around in your bag to find it.

„that would be great, ellie. i‘ll make up for it.“

she smiled, starting her engine and looking up your adress from her recent routes.

„i will be there in 20! see ya, ______!“

and off she went, excitement now building up.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

„hey, thank you so much.“

you smiled, waiting on your doorstep, still in the same hoodie, but with pyjamas pants below now.

„no worries.”

“are you free? i can cook you some dinner. you know, to make up for you having to drive here again?“

now ellie smiled but shook her head.

„no, it‘s fine. don‘t worry.“

„ellie, c‘mon. let me do something for you as well!“

and how could she say no to some with a pretty face like yours?

so she agreed, and you lead her up the stairs to your apartment. it was small but lovely and well decorated. scented candles burned in the hallway and the living room was dimly lit with a lap and the led strips behind your running tv.

„it‘s not much but it‘s affordable - for an uni student at least.“

you smiled before going to your kitchen counted which was connected to your living room.

„what do you mean? it‘s pretty!“

ellie eyes the nerdy figurines on your shelves and the pictures on your walls while you grabbed two wine glasses from your shelf.

„are you fine with a cheap rose?“

you asked her as you opened your fridge. ellie looked at you and just felt all the weight of her work falling off her shoulders. she felt.. normal. like you. oh, how she wished to be an uni student, living her best life in an small apartment instead of leading people and having responsibilities beyond imagination.

of course, she did not have to worry about bills or anything. but money and power doesn’t buy happiness. this does.

„absolutely!“

she sat down on one of your kitchen chairs and watched you pour in the wine with a smile.

„thank you dear.“

she said so softly your knees got weak. and you smiled, letting your glass softly hit hers before taking a sip, not breaking eye contact.

„so, i can offer you: noodles with green pesto, noodles with red pesto, or i can try my luck with a mushroom risotto. additionally, i can also make a side salad.“

you smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. ellie hadn’t felt this carelessness and even happiness in a while. after all, she never had this.

„risotto sounds amazing.“

she smiled, watching you sigh in despair.

„of course you choose the hardest dish. will not guarantee that it will be good!“

you reached for a pan and put out all ingredients; mushrooms that would have to leave your fridge soon anyways, risotto rice, onion and garlic. the simplicity as so beautiful to ellie.

„let me help.“

and so she cut the mushrooms and washed the rice while you took care of the onions and garlic. the two of you laughed and made fun of each other’s cutting skills while emptying your wine glasses and watching the risotto take form.

„that‘d actually pretty bomb!“

you exclaimed while taking the first bite, already half way down on the second wine glass.

„ellie, we are a great team in the kitchen!“

ellie smiled, agreeing with you.

„like hell, we are!“

you spend your dinner laughing and talking about all sorts of things. friends, memories, drunk accidents that were embarrassing. it felt so light to finally not have business talks with people she couldn’t care less about.

after washing the dishes, and pouring a third glass of wine, you took the conversation to your small but comfortable couch.

and it got late, waaaay too late. and the snow kept falling, causing the streets to be white.

„you shouldn’t be driving home tonight.“

you said, looking at the streets while ellie smoked a cigarette on your balcony.

„nah, i will be fine. i don’t want to take up your space.“

„no ellie, i mean it. we drank, it‘s snowy. it would be better for you to sleep here.“

after a while of convincing, she finally agreed, snapping her cigarette off your balcony.

„and you get to spend more time with me. feel honoured!“

you joked, not knowing that it was exactly what she wanted. to spend more time with you, in this carefree environment. where she can be herself, where she can be just ellie and doesn‘t have to be ellie williams - ceo of miller enterprises.

after finishing the last glass of wine, you decided to call it a night. you gave ellie a hoodie from your closet and a pair of pyjama pants before brushing your teeth in the bathroom and doing your daily skincare. when you returned, you laughed a little. she looked so cute in your huge uni hoodie and the fluffy pj pants.

„why are you laughing?!“

„im just used to seeing you in business clothing. but this is adorable!“

she rolled her eyes and took the spare toothbrush you held in her direction.

„fuck off !“

one more laughter left your throat before you prepared the bed for two. luckily it was big enough. although your couch was comfortable, it was small and most likely would break either your or ellies back when sleeping a night on it.

so you shared a bed. after all, thats nothing to worry about, right?

both of you kind of awkward tugged in before facing each other. the wine did make all of this less awkward. once again you noticed how pretty ellie was. the freckles and little eyebrow scar.. her long lashes that made her green eyes even prettier, her auburn hair that hugger her face perfectly.. she was perfect.

and she thought the same about you. her hand reached out to your face and tugged a piece of your hair behind your ear. oh how she wanted to kiss you - yet she didn’t, not knowing you wanted it too.

“good night, ellie.”

“night, ______.”

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

THERE WE GOOOOO. different from what i wanted, but i hope you enjoy ✧*:.｡.

part 4 is here ! ! bye bye xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao

[audiovideodisco]

One for me, two for you.

Where you are a doctor in House’s diagnostic team in the early seasons, and

are having a bad pain day.

CW: drug use/ opioids/ chronic pain and conditions/ self medicating (if you squint)/ could this be angst? i have no idea/ mild suggestive joke/ cancer talk & medical jargon

word count: 921

requested?: no

sfw?: yes

ship: n/a

characteristics: n/a

You trudge into Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with a face that would make anyone with a brain run for the hills.

It had been a rough night for you. The pain in your body being worse than usual, and your meds weren’t helping, so you barely slept.

You suppress your winces and ignore the pain as you usually do, hiding it from others, but that doesn’t stop it from making you radiate an energy that makes everyone around you know you were not to be messed with. You normally radiated this energy anyway, but not just due to pain, also due to your ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude you had developed over the years.

You walk into the DDX office, dumping your stuff down next to you and putting your extraordinarily caffeinated drink down on the table a little harder than you’d like. Cameron, Chase and Foreman glance between themselves, Cameron going to ask something, when House opens the door connecting his office to the DDX office. He walks in with his three point tap bouncing unpleasantly around your head. You feel his eyes analysing you as he walks to the other end of the table, but hide your surprise when he doesn’t say anything.

“Wilson’s got a cancer patient in remission with all her symptoms back. But no cancer. I’ve already considered the fact that he could have been an idiot and missed it, but she’s definitely cancer free. Differential Diagnosis for hair loss, stomach pain, low white count and vomiting that’s not cancer. Go.”

The other doctors look at each other again before offering suggestions.

“Alcohol withdrawals?” Chase says, as Foreman immediately shuts him down,

“No, doesn’t explain the hair loss or low white count.”

“That- and the facts she’s 14.” House says with a smug look on his face, causing you to scowl at him a bit. He catches it, but ignores it.

Cameron rolls her eyes,

“How about Pancreatitis?”

You pipe up before House can make another shitty comment, your voice sharp,

“No fever. It’s late onset radiation side effects.”

House’s eyes squint as he considers what you said, then you see his look change to one with a flicker of something you couldn’t place. Was he impressed? Nah, probably just scheming again.

“Go, Foreman and Chase go talk to Wilson to see when her last radiation was and the details. Cameron, get a better medical history.” House says, turning to go back to his office.

“What about me?” You ask, unable to hide the confusion in your face, brows furrowed slightly.

“You should be following me. Thought that was obvious.”

“If it was obvious, I wouldn’t have asked.”

The other three fellows walk out the DDX office slowly, worried looks on their features as they have a silent conversation with looks between them. They disperse as you go into House’s office, leaving you standing by the door, looking at your boss who was sat at his desk, throwing his giant tennis ball between his hands.

“Sit. Or are you a masochist? Didn’t take you for someone that’s-“

“What the hell is this, House?” you stop him, biting back with much less effort to keep your words palatable.

House raises an eyebrow and stops throwing the ball around, turning to sit forward and lean his elbows on the table. He looks at you, pondering for a minute, and then gestures at the chair, which you sit in after a moment. He considers you again, watching as your brow furrows a little tighter as he does, holding up the facade so well. House was almost impressed, it’s a shame I can see right through that mask you’re putting up, he thought to himself. He pulls his vicodin from his pocket, pouring two into his palm, and you watch him, expecting him to swallow them dry in front of you, but instead, he holds them out to you. You look at the pills in his hand, and then at him, and back again.

“Take them.” He says, his voice a little softer than usual, but not much.

“What- why are you giving me-?”

“You’re having a bad pain day. Probably the worst one you’ve had in a while.”

“How do you even-“ You knew you were more irritable today, which you cursed yourself for not being able to mask, but you hadn’t told anyone about your pain, let alone that it was chronic.

“Pain recognises pain. The vicodin will help.”

You take the pills tentatively, swallowing them with your drink.

“Uh… thanks… I-“ You start, not knowing what to say, but he cuts you off,

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone- I mean, I have discussed it with Wilson, he helped me figure out that you were in pain in the first place. He pays more attention.” You smile a little, nodding.

“Don’t suffer unnecessarily. I might be an ass, but I know what it’s like, being in pain all the time. I’m not a talker, but I am a drinker; if you want to forget or just- look, you can come to me anytime. Less lonely that way.” House mumble out, his last sentence being almost inaudible.

You nod and he passes you a piece of paper. It’s a scrip for vicodin.

“Go take blood from our patient. Want to make sure nothing has been missed in her blood.” You do as you’re asked, walking out his office and shoving the scrip in your pocket, feeling a little better as the vicodin begins to work, and a little less alone.

[romanoffsbish]

Don’t Worry, I’ve Got You

GN!OC (Rio) x F!R

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Natasha had planned to sweep you off your feet when she returned from her mission. But it seemed someone else had beat her to the punch… | WC: 5,144

Warning: Domestic Violence - Abusive OC | Mentions of Sexual Coercion | Petrified R | Violence - Blood - Gory OC Death | Happy Ending 😀

Smut: Somno (Consented)-Oral (R) | Tribbing | Overstimulation | Sweet/Soft | Mommy (N)

When Natasha exited the Quinjet she was in a state of disbelief to find Yelena stood there. It'd been a year since she'd been home, and it wasn't the compound she looked to, it was you. Not only was it strange that you were missing, but Yelena being there was truly worrisome.

The sisters loved each other endlessly, but they never wanted to seem vulnerable enough to the others by showing their concern outwardly. For you and Kate though, they'd always be there, and in turn the two of you'd always show too.

"Where's Y/N?" Natasha couldn't hide the fear in her voice, but her face remained neutral.

——

Yelena cringed at the mention of you, it didn't take a rocket science to know what happened.

The blonde wanted to help you the first time she saw you with a busted lip, and a bloodshot eye that wasn't simply from crying. Then you flashed her a nervous smile, and she knew that she would only make it worse. You were oddly attached to this asshole—she understood.

Not to say she didn't help in her own ways, she was fond of you, not the same way as her sister, but enough to want to protect you. There was a very specific reason Rio was sent on an influx of lengthy missions this year by his CO, Yelena, (and it wasn't the hopeful rank bumping).

As a former widow she knew that being under another's control is something you become conditioned to respect over time. Sometimes you're even to the point of defending your abuser, for her they doubled as her captors, she reasons it's the same for you in this case, but regardless the reaction all worked the same.

You wouldn't leave unless you felt safe, and you wouldn't feel that way until Natasha returned.

Which is why Yelena is here now. "Natasha, we need to talk yesterday, fuck the reports." The blonde knew the walls had eyes and ears so she pulled her confused sister off to her bike, then drove her fifty miles out to a quaint diner just far enough from the city that Natasha wouldn't sprint back to immediately avenge you.

It was the right thing to do, she didn't want you to see just how scary Natasha could be. The last thing you needed was to be startled into seeing any part of them inside of your Natasha.

"I'm going to kill them!" Yelena smirked over her stolen coffee mug as they'd moved to the dead fields just to the left of the rest top. The circumstances weren't amusing, but seeing that her sister shared her sentiments elated her.

"This is funny to you?" Natasha questioned, her fist shot out at the blonde with the quick reflexes, landing in her open hand. "Why didn't you help her Yelena? Sh-she was my..."

"Lyubov'," Yelena quietly finished for her, she dropped her fist and wrapped her arms around her trembling body. "I never got to tell her what it meant, she always asked, but just as I was about to tell her I had to go. I never..."

"No!" Yelena reprimanded her, "You are not to blame here Natalia. Neither am I. If I helped her alone it would have been worse. Doveryat'."

(Trust)

Natasha nodded, and for a few minutes they stood there, Yelena thinking over what weapon she will use on Rio, and Natasha mourning through sobs the loss of your perfect start.

Everything in both of your lives had been deeply rooted in pain, and now this would be too. Natasha dreamed of more, she wanted the silly first date where she fumbled over her words, that came with the reward of a kiss.

She wanted to enter into a relationship with that period where you dressed up for each other to go out on the town that slowly faded into lazy nights in wearing matching pajamas.

Natasha adored you wholly, and wanted to make every little thing as special as she could. Up until she left she had already been doing so, but still she feels like she failed you. Maybe if she had just staked her claim more outwardly then Rio would've never taken you as theirs.

They would have never been able to hurt you...

Deep down she knew all was not lost, and she could make it right with you. Natasha also knew Yelena was right, it wasn't her fault, but that didn't mean she didn't carry the burden.

All she ever wanted was to keep you safe, and this failed instance will forever haunt her.

"Go pay the bill, I need to make a call." Natasha handed over her card, and as Yelena walked away she dialed in a favor, "Afternoon Hill."

With an urgent need for reaching you the redhead had swiped her sister's keys, and drove them back with a practiced elegance in her every illegal swerve. Yelena grumbled about the likely wear and tear, but there was no genuine anger with her concern, and the redhead couldn't hear her over the racing of her nervous heart, or the harsh wind anyways.

Every second counted, she couldn't risk letting Rio do anything further to you, and she worried that her return might've sparked something in the devious agents voided chest.

"Meet me at the underground cells in an hour," she coldly said to her sister as she tossed her the keys to her bike before she sprinted off. The rooms were spinning when she ran through the compound doors, and it continued to do so until she finally managed to spot you.

You were sitting with your back to the entrance of the communal kitchen, your frame hunched over and your body was lightly shaking. It was clear as day to her that you were sobbing, even if you tried to muffle the sound with your hand.

Natasha wasted no time approaching you, and in her hurry she failed to announce herself. It broke her heart when you jumped away from her touch and skidded across the kitchen.

"I-I'm sorry, I promise I will never mention her again, but please don't —," you cut your shaky pleas off the moment you looked up to see it was a frowning Natasha and not a seething Rio.

Natasha saw the exhaustion in your cloudy eyes, and the rest was painted on your face. Your worry lines were more prominent from when she last saw you, and you looked small. You were once a strong, well built agent at the top of her game, with a ranking higher than her own, but now you looked like a weak prisoner.

There was a scabbed over gash of sorts on the apple of your right cheek, and scratches and bruises all over your upper arms that you tried to conceal with your sleeves but she saw them. The eyes of a spy were a curse just as much as they were a skill to the woman. Because seeing your skin marred broke down her resolve.

"D-don't cry Natty," you yourself said over a sniffle, she smiled sadly as she approached to give you the comfort you were trying to offer.

You whimpered as her strong arms wrapped around your tense shoulders, but your entire body couldn't help but to relax as you smelled the familiar floral scents of her cologne. It was like the world returned to normal for just a moment. All you needed was her touch and suddenly the tears were flowing unendingly.

"It's okay moya lyubov'," she coo'd, and you whimpered once more hearing the familiar words that always brought you comfort. You held onto her shirt beneath her leather jacket for dear life, and she gently swayed your form as you freely sobbed. "You're safe now."

Natasha grinned over your shoulder as her eyes met those of your sleazy partners. Rio's fists were clenched as they stood outside the room, their gaze held contempt as they scowled. They hadn't a chance to interrupt your moment as Maria stopped them in their tracks, and swept them away—if only they'd known of their fate...

"I am here," she whispered, "They are not."

It didn't matter that you knew what her words meant, the meaning was clear; Rio was gone, and you were nothing short of relieved.

Natasha watched as you removed the ring on your finger and dropped it onto the counter in a hurry as if touching the metal harmed you. It was self motivated, but it still left her hopeful to see you denounce them before her own eyes.

The redhead wordlessly pulled you out of the kitchen and you ignored the smell of Rio's musty cologne as Natasha took you straight to her bedroom, a place where you always found yourself sneaking off to when they were out.

While you sat on her bed silently pondering the fact that you were free from this last years terror she ran you a soothing bubble bath. It helped to ease the remaining tension in your body, the warmth of the lavender water helped to soothe the marks atop of your battered body.

Natasha did her best to respect your privacy, giving you her room as she stood outside of the door until you came to collect her. The redhead beamed as you cracked the door and beckoned her inside, seeing you wearing her clothes filled her with a sense of pride, it made her want to remember the way you looked in this moment.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" You smiled softly, and silently nodded towards the bed, she nodded her understanding and laid down with her arms wide open for you to crawl into like you'd always done in the before times.

"I missed you," you croaked, and she pressed her chapped lips against your temple, leaving a firm kiss against the skin and for a moment the persistent ache in your head from the earlier scuffle with your spouse seemed to fade away under the soft affection of your desired lover.

"I missed you too Y/N/N," she sighed, her arms gently tightened around you in emphasis. "Every day I found it harder and harder to stay away. I'm so sorry I was gone for so long, and.."

You shook your head and kissed the side of her neck as your lips were rested there. "Don't."

The redhead sighed, and relented on pushing you beyond your limits. Even if she felt sorry, she still should keep that to herself. It's unfair to ask of your forgiveness, when you were the one who had to endure the cruelty of another. All she was meant to do now was hold you close, and never let this ever happen again.

Once you'd slipped into a state of unconscious that had you snoring the redhead cautiously shimmied out from beneath you. She hated taking the comfort of her embrace away from you, but she had somewhere to be in ten. So with a final kiss to your cheek she left the room, securely locking her door as she did.

"Sestra, welcome to the party!!!" Yelena greeted her sister, "You are just in time."

Natasha took the brass knuckles from her sister's extended hand with a smirk, but before using them she decided to punch Rio square in the nose with nothing but her bare hand. A reminder to the crooked agent that she didn't need anything more to harm them efficiently.

Blood gushed from the asshole's nose and the sisters rejoiced when the pitiful excuse for an agent began to cry. "Seriously? Already crying? What a joke." Natasha snorted at her little sisters taunting, then she turned her malicious attention back to your sobbing ex. "Too bad you're not the funny kind. Just the pathetic."

Rio knew better than to plead for their life. Maria escorted them here and handcuffed them to a chair. Yelena menacingly stood watch over them before Natasha entered. It was clear to the criminal of the hour that their fate was sealed the moment they took your hand in theirs and abused your loving nature.

"Snyat' s nikh naruchniki," Natasha dryly said as she slid the brass knuckles over her fingers.

(Uncuff them)

Yelena obliged her sister, and with unnecessary but warranted strength she shoved them from the chair. "Wh-what's happening? Can I go?"

Natasha chuckled darkly, "Oh please, you are simply being granted a chance to try and throw one of your little punches at me. Show me the inexcusable power you used against her."

Rio smirked, then lunged at the redhead with a confidence they were sure to lose in seconds. Natasha cackled as they punched her nose just as she did theirs with literally no damage done.

"God damnit you're fucking weak!" She cackled as they stumbled back in shock, looking at their fist in confusion as if it betrayed them. "You're going to regret ever laying a hand on her!!"

A taunting smile adorned their face as they challenged Natasha with a tilt of their head. If they were going to die anyways, they decided it would be best to torment her back. "Not only did I smack her around, but I gave her my —."

Natasha socked them in the jaw, cutting their disgusting words off at the source. Only cries of pain left them as the bronze over her knuckles had effectively broken their jaw into sections. Blood mixed with their drool and dripped down their chin along with a chunk of their tongue, and that made Natasha smile wickedly.

Yelena watched with a glint in her eyes as her sister tossed the buff excuse for a human being around as if they were a weightless rag doll.

"Pozvol' mne povernut'!" Yelena eventually whined, and Natasha scoffed, "Imet' eto."

(Let me have a turn / Have at it)

While the blonde tormented Rio with her sharpened knife Natasha chose to discard her weapon and stared at the blood on her hands. Observing as it dripped onto the cold cement of the cell floor, staining it red; her ledger gushed. 

"Natalia!" Natasha shook her head free of the distraction of her dark, self destructive thoughts, and looked up to see a bloodied Rio on their knees, body swaying as they fought to keep their loose grip on consciousness. It was time to deliver the final metaphorical blow.

"Y/N's mine," Natasha growled while holding their disfigured jaw in her hands, her nails dug into their raw skin and they hardly winced as the life force left within them was dwindling. "She was never going to be yours, because she loved me, and she was far too good for you."

"Fut yuh," they spat incoherently, and Natasha grimaced as their blood spluttered onto her face. "I'd bless you, but we both know you're not going to make it to heaven," she teased, smile mocking as her hand lowered to wrap around their neck. Her stony glare of the black widow was the last thing the abuser saw before their lights officially went out. Yelena looked at her, and Natasha smiled weakly at her sister.

"Ready for cleanup," she muttered tiredly into the speaker of her phone, then left the room as fast as she could. The weight of the situation had finally gotten to her, the realization that she could have lost you to that weak fool had her crying the whole way back to her room.

She heard shuffling, so she stood with her head pressed against her door until her breathing regulated, and the tears had come to a stop. Only then did she enter her room, and headed straight for the bathroom to take a shower.

You were flat on your back now, your midriff exposed as the shirt you wore rose up and the plush blanket she left was kicked off the bed. Natasha admired you fondly as she walked out with her towel wrapped around her nude form.

When you finally awoke she was drying her hair in front of her body length mirror, she now wore a pair of biker shorts, and a sports bra. The sight of her flexed abs, and swell of her perfect breasts through the mirror made your mouth even dryer than the amazing sleep had.

The redhead turned around with a soft smirk on her lips, the teasing gesture was however overwhelmed by the distant look in her eyes. She watched guiltily as your eyes filled with recognition when you saw her purple hands.

"Natty?" The redhead sighed softly, "Don't." You nodded in understanding, and patted the bed besides you, and she stalled briefly as she walked into the closet to grab her shirt, as well as her favorite leather jacket for extra layers.

She didn't want to seem like a temptation, even if she only had to exist before your eyes to be.

You honestly couldn't restrain yourself, seeing the physical proof that she'd used her assassin skills to defend you turned you on. It was odd, the way that her violence didn't turn you off. It was perfectly understandable though, knowing that she loved you enough to chose to defend you was the most attractive characteristic.

You were down bad, and Natasha gulped as she saw the way your eyes bloomed with swirls of palpable lust. It took all of her not to pounce on the moment that presented itself to her, but she stood no real chance at abstaining here. In a matter of seconds you were straddling her lap and lifting her bruised knuckles to your lips.

"Y/N," she gasped, a subtle warning in the way her hand trembled in yours, but you cupped her cheeks and smiled warmly before saying: "I want to feel your love Nat, please show me."

Both of your hearts beat out of rhythm, but the jumbled thumps were however in sync. She surveyed your eyes for a brief moment, then she kissed you breathless as she lifted you both up off the mattress. Setting you down on shaky legs she smiled at the way your eyes took time fluttering back open. Her hands settled on the hem of your shirt, "May I?" You nodded, a bit emotional as she sought your permission out.

Natasha was incredibly gentle as she disrobed you, a muffled sob left you as you cherished the unfamiliarly soft touch. It had been such a long time since someone regarded your body this way. Every partner you'd been with since you moved into adulthood had been callous; rough around all your edges and cruel to your curves.

Your parents were just the same, the redhead had given you hope for a brighter future. Then she was gone, no longer present to keep that shadowed figure from exposing themselves.

Rio was never someone you regarded as a threat until the day when they introduced themselves, cocky grin on their face as they asked you out on the date you'd be at later.

It was never a question, it was a veiled prison sentence that you would fall into the trap of.

You were naive enough to believe it friendly, everyone knew you were unspoken for, but the whispers echoed that you were Natasha's girl.

Which you were wholeheartedly aligned with.

Rio disregarded the claim, showing you the empty finger that they shoved a ring onto a month into your assigned arrangement. It devastated you being with anyone that wasn't her, they never physically forced you down, but they used their venomous words to coerce you.

"Moya lyubov, are you sure?" You felt this wave of warmth tingle beneath your skin, and felt as her calloused thumb wiped away your tears. "We don't have to do this yet detka, or ever if-."

"Natasha no," you whimpered, nails dug into the nape of her neck as you feared being left sexually frustrated. You needed her more than you ever thought humanly possible, "Please."

Natasha's arm wrapped around your bare waist, she guided you back towards the bed and kissed your lips the entire time she spent cautiously lowering you onto the mattress. It was like she was in a trance as she took her time kissing away the pain of your scars.

It was her intention to make this moment one full of love, her lips gently kissed over the skin of your stomach and she felt the way your entire body tensed in anticipation. Yet she didn't take the bait, she instead continued to lick the salty sweat from every bit of exposed skin she could, and her kisses continued to drop all over, like into the crook of your knees and elbows, and the apex of your thighs.

You whimpered in need for nearly an hour, but she never heard you as she was determined to feel every last bit of your skin beneath her now numbed lips. Soft snores finally pulled her from her trance, she gazed up at you, her lips stalled on the skin beneath your belly button.

She grinned against your pelvis as she caught a whiff of your abundance, her eyes closed as she felt her mouth salivate in an instant. Her body shuffled until she could eye your cunt, it oozed like a waterfall and seeped into the grey sheets.

With the tip of her nose she nudged your lips apart, then slid up to bump at your clit as her tongue followed the trail with a firm lick. Natasha groaned against your sensitive nub as she truly tasted you for the first time. Her face was absolutely coated in arousal in seconds as she ate your pussy like it was her last meal.

If she goes down for her crimes today she would actually request you as her final meal.

Muffled whimpers left through the part in your lips instantaneously, your hips shifted, then all of a sudden your upper torso arched off the bed and you moaned yourself into consciousness.

You were enthusiastic as your hand wove into her hair and you loudly vocalized her praise: "O-oh my god, don't stop—fuck, never stop!"

Natasha purred against your pulsating clit, a clear indication that she shared your thoughts. Dangerously so honestly, because she made you release on her swirling tongue alone four mind blowing times before she took a break.

While you grappled hazily with the functions of time and space the woman merely watched you in amusement. You were adorable as you came down from your repetitive sequence of highs, yawning obviously and smiling contentedly.

Moments later you finally stared down at the woman whose body was pressed into yours. Natasha smiled up at you lazily, with her slick cheek smushed into your thigh, you returned the gesture and her heart skipped a million beats. You took her breath away every time she saw you, but this time was different, it was even better than she dreamed. She finally had you in every sense of the word, before she left you were already hers in totality, but it was never the right time to take that leap together.

Or at least you'd both thought that you needed the time to be right, but now you knew to stake your claims and to never let each other go.

The redhead needed to be closer to you, so she left the oh so comforting heat radiating from between your thighs behind and began to kiss up the center of your body, a snail trail left in her lips wake with each sloppy press of them to your sweaty skin. She relished in the way you'd shiver as the breeze from the window solidified your essence and had your heated skin chilled.

She smirked once her lips pressed into your cheek as you tugged at her clothes and whined.

"What is it moya lyubov'?" She chuckled, then prohibited your response as she pecked away your pout. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip and you allowed her the moment of distraction. Savoring the taste of you on her tongue as she kissed you breathless, your body pushed back into a needy state as your arousal soaked into her shirt, and she was reminded of your prior whining as you had just tried to undress her.

Natasha shook her leather jacket off of her arm, keeping her body raised on the other like it took no strength at all. She never once broke the kiss, managing to suck your soul from you, she even kept her balance as she threw it off. For her remaining clothes she had to pull away, but you didn't feel her absence for long as she moved rather speedily, almost like a cheetah.

"What does it mean?" You shakily asked as she lowered her cunt atop of yours, a carnal groan then left you, "Fuck, Natasha you are so wet."

She hummed teasingly as she began to rub her aroused cunt against yours, her plump lips hovered your ear as she whispered her secret words: "My love." You felt the warmth of her sigh tickle the skin of your collarbones, and it spurred on a flurry of goosebumps across your body and burrowed deep into your heart. "I'm only ever wet because of you Y/N, every time you'd kiss my cheek goodnight I'd be drooling."

"Oh god," you moaned as her lewd confession was huskily spoken just as her clit brushed over yours, the stimulating touch caused Natasha's arms to nearly give out as she was overrun with pleasure, but her impressive strength won out.

"You've always been mine Y/N," she murmured the truth you both vehemently aligned with as she kept up a breathtaking pace with her hips, it wasn't rushed though which was new to you.

The painstakingly raw jut of her hips left you feeling dizzy, her teeth grazed across the skin of your jaw before her lips latched onto the bob of your throat as your body arched into hers.

It was made worse when she pulled away from your neck and hovered you once more, her lovesick gaze locked on your hazy one, and you were surely a goner as the words as sweet as honey left her saccharine lips: "I promise to cherish your body for a lifetime if you'll let me," her pace sped up just as fast as your heartbeat had, and your eyes brimmed with tears of pure joy as you came in sync with your soulmate.

Whispers of yes and please left your lips in between the moans of her name, and the world stopped when you hoarsely cried out mommy.

Natasha collapsed into you, her arms giving out as her warm arousal gushed from her already dripping cunt onto your thighs as she came again from she's sure your words alone.

"You did such a good job for mommy," she pecked your cheek then pressed her lips to yours and satisfied your needs to kiss her luscious lips as you basked in the aftershocks of your highs in a bubble of undeniable passion.

"Get some rest now detka," Natasha rolled off of you and pulled your limp body into hers. "You're safe with me Y/N, I promise you this."

"I know Natty," you mumbled over a yawn while burrowing your face in between her soft, rounded breasts. The redhead smiled and happily admired your relaxed face, she wore a proud grin as you drifted off, trusting her to keep you safe with the same hands she'd used to wring the neck of your spouse this evening.

You knew deep down that Natasha didn't let them go like you’d thought when she said they were not here. Apparently she was foreshadowing their looming demise. You didn't question her for a meaning when it came to the bruises on her hands, you just accepted it because she loved you enough to bloody her ledger. Though they surely deserved it, she still had to consciously take a life, and even though they were wretched, she still felt the loss.

Good or bad, her heart still cared too deeply.

The world was a safer place, you'd pointlessly reminded yourself of her humanity, as if she would ever lay a harsh hand on you. She who hummed softly, and ran a gentle hand up and down your back even after you'd slipped off into a middle ground. Your mind was still aware but your body was slumped into hers, but you heard her whisper clear as day as her lips faintly kissed your hairline. "I love you Y/N Romanoff, I promise I'll put a ring on your finger soon, I just have to unpack the little box from my suitcase and threaten a judge is all."

You involuntarily giggled softly and her hands teasingly tickled at yours sides, "You sneaky minx," you could hear the smirk in her voice, and you knew then she'd known all along that you were still conscious on some plane. "So, tell me Y/N, will you be my runaway bride?"

"It depends," you yawned out exaggeratedly, "Where will we be running off to Natty-kins?"

"Wherever you want sweet girl, I can make a home anywhere in the world if you're there."

"So romantic," you giggled, your lips brushed over her racing pulse and you left a tender kiss there to try and calm her, but it only made it beat out of sync as it sped up then slowed back down. "Of course I will marry you, just as soon as I can get this crock of fibbery annulled."

"Fibbery?" Natasha chuckled and you whined a little too honestly, "Don't make fun of me, I'm tired, and have a lingering minor concussion."

The redheads breath stalled, her body tensed but you tiredly lifted your head and kissed her chin before you whispered, "It's okay, I'm safe now in my favorite persons arms. Like you said, nothing can hurt me if you're around."

"Damn straight," she said as her grip on you tightened, and you sighed. Natasha's hold was expectantly possessive, which briefly felt too familiar to another's, but the way Natasha kissed the skin beneath your hairline, and continued her prior humming soothed you.

This wasn't the start she dreamed of, but she also couldn't prevent the smile that adorned her sleepy face as you nuzzled even further into her embrace, your clear trust in her meant the world to her and even eased some of her guilt.

You both knew it would be a long while before you were truly yourself again, and you knew from experience that her patience would never waver, and that alone would be enough. One thing was rather clear as you slipped off to sleep—you were safe, and loved just as you'd always deserved to be in your home's arms.

——

[yanderefoeyay]

Yandere Lucifer evil caretaker Au

After the battle he takes Adams almost dead corpse back into the hotel and keeps him his hotel wing, telling Charlie he’s going to nurse him back to health as an act of goodwill, but as she leaves he’s ecstatic that he’s finally got his human back with him after all his years hiding in heaven, soft and weak and who needs him if he wants to recover

He intended to actually let him heal at first, but as Charlie praises him for doing such a good job as his caretaker he realises he can kill two birds with one stone, he can keep Adam sick and reliant on him and continuously be admired by his daughter, his wonderful little family together at last

He coos at adam and holds him gently while he’s delirious, hand feeding him soup laces with small amounts of poison, none lethal but will keep him bed ridden, keeps him subdued and hazy with pain killers as he bathes him and dresses him, soft hands running through his hair fondly as adams bleary eyes look at him, fear in his veins

At some point Adam manages to recover just enough to move while Lucifers away for a moment, sluggish limbs trying desperately to crawl to the door, he tries to reach for the handle, but as his fingers graze it the door swings opens and he freezes as lucifers looks down on him with a cold twisted look in his eyes and a weird smile on his face “now where do you think you’re going? You really shouldn’t be out of bed, I know what’s best for you silly” voice seemingly playful and mock kindness but with a very clear threat underneath

He’s forcefully picked up, tears running down his face as he tries to yell, a loud gurgle of gibberish falling out, begging silently for anyone to hear him, the door slams shut and they’re alone

He’s placed on his back on the bed, being watched like prey “why would you want to leave in your condition sweetie? You’re not in your right mind right now, and I’m honestly hurt you would try to undo all the progress I’ve made and even worse try to run away from me when I’ve only been loving and kind to you”

“I’ll have to teach you not try to leave me ever again, it’s what’s best for you, what’s best for us” his hand running softly down Adams face, ignoring the cold sweat and his wide terror filled eyes, knowing he’s just afraid of hurting his feelings, that he’s been bad, but he forgives him

His hand takes Adams left arm and runs his fingers over it before quickly snapping it, adams let’s out a broken scream and he shushes him softly and repeats the same process with his other arm, he wouldn’t be able to grab anything including the door handle again anytime soon if at all, he didn’t need his hands anyway lucifer would happily do anything he needs for him

Adams shaking and in so much pain, deeps sobs coming from his dry mouth after the screaming

Charlie comes running through the door as lucifer is saying soothing words and rubbing circles on his chest to calm him down

“DAD WHAT HAPPENED WHY IS THERE SCREAMING?!”

Adams looks at her his eyes pleading for help, for her to understand, to save him but lucifers quick to stand in between them and with the most convincing lying voice tell her “it’s ok sweetie Adam just had a accident, he somehow got out of bed when I was gone and something fell on him, he didn’t know what he was doing, but I’m here now and he’s going to be fine I promise” a reassuring smile masked on his face

Adam watched, hope draining from his face as she breathed a sigh of relief “oh thank goodness I hope he’s going to be ok” lucifer hugged his daughter, her not seeing the sick smile on his face “he’s going to be absolutely fine he’s got me” and Adam watched as she left and they were alone, he felt nothing but dread

Lucifer turned to look at him and slowly walked over, the smile back, he flinches as he felt two hands on his cheeks, cradling his face as lucifer leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead “don’t worry Adam I’ll always be by your side don’t worry, we’ll never be apart again” and that’s exactly what Adam feared most, “now let me take your pain away” he saw a needle appear in lucifers hand, and then just a small sting in his neck, the light started to fade and the last thing he saw was that face looking at him and a whisper of I love you

[azurlily]

Have a good read.

Day 4 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. These TWO yanderes clash in personality and in action. As always DARK FUCKING THEMES

No explanation needed, it's in the title.

Yandere!Annie Leonhart and Yandere!Pieck Finger HEADCANNONS SFW AND NSFW

Wow, just wow, how the flying fuck did you fuck up this badly.

You live in Paradis, you grew up with a set of rose colored glasses on your eyes. You were just a child when the colossal titan appeared. That's when your path was made, your path to not only Annie, but Pieck too.

You joined the military training corps and met Annie. You were the only one who was genuinely interested in being friends with Annie. You weren't Beretoldt or Reiner, who were there put of obligation, nor were you scared of her. Okay, maybe a little bit.

Annie killed Marco. She killed him simply because he asked you out. That was enough means to kill him without hesitation.

You trusted Annie with all your heart. When she told you she was the female titan, though. You thought she was learning how to joke, and this was a bad, bad joke.

Things took a turn for the worse when she was captured by the scouts. You were one of the first to be investigated, you lied and said you didn't know. You said Annie seemed normal, and you didn't believe she'd ever be a monster.

Years went by, and it hurt. It hurt to lose someone so close to you, someone you trusted with all your being. Over time though, you slowly got used to it. Got used to the pain of missing her.

You joined the scouts at some point and started working along side Mikasa. You and her became somewhat a pair. Things were good, I mean not really, but you get it.

When you heard Annie was released from her shell, you were one of the first to actually talk to her. Your fear as well as anger that she left you, it was a lot to take it. You love Annie dearly, even if she did hurt you in a way.

Annie clung to you like never before, she practically refused to leave you. She considered herself to not be on a side, unless it was yours. Annie fights for you, and only you.

She would start hiding random things like knifes on her. In case she had to deal with someone for you. She's more than willing to deal with her long time Mikasa problem...

You met Pieck at Marley. You met her when things went south with Eren and everyone was regrouping. Pieck had this voice, it made you feel calm. You didn't tense up as much, you felt safe around her. It was odd.

You felt safe around Annie, but never like this. Never in such a way. You felt like you could trust Pieck, her sweet smile. Her brown eyes always watching over you.

You didn't realise she was conditioning you. She wanted to use to being around her more, being around her eyes and falling into them. She and Annie spent more and more time with you. Their psychotic behavior showing more and more.

You'd wake up and feel someone staring at you. You'd look around and see Pieck sleeping in her titan form...except she wasn't asleep. She was wide awake and was watching you, she saw you move and closed her eyes.

Annie and Pieck took shifts on taking care of you, as well as slowly isolating you from everyone else.

"Pieck, I understand, bit patients is key!"

"Annie if I have to wait any longer, ik going to kill her without hesitation! How dare Mikasa touch her!"

Piecks titan form almost killing Mikasa because she hugged you.

Yep. She, without hesitation transformed, and almost ate Mikasa alive.

Pieck was stopped and knocked out, she didn't seem too happy. Annie on the other hand seemed quite please with the result of this: Mikass leaving you the hell alone, and practically refusing to even look at you.

You noticed in the time everyone was wary of Pieck, Annie and her seemed to be getting along better than before. Much, much, much better.

It was one that started it all. Pieck and Annie had come to a mutual agreement, they would share you. In exchange, you wouldn't love anyone else. You only needed the two of them anyway.

It had been a few weeks and everyone had slowly brushed off the incident. That was until the three of you disappeared. In the middle of the night, all the food, water, weapons, and supplies had disappeared. So had you, Pieck, and Annie.

Most feared the worst, that someone(a yeagerist) had come and taken you three and the supplies. While it was a fair assumption, it was dead wrong.

Pieck and Annie had been planning this for weeks. From the day Pieck attacked Mikasa to the day you all dissapeared.

Annie knew if she attacked Mikasa would have cut her down. The obvious choice was Pieck. Now where would you three go? Hm?

Easy. They were still in Marley territory, and Pieck had done enough missions to know her way around. She knew a small abandoned village near a lake- perfect place to hide away from the world.

The two knew that the world was going to end, and they couldn't stop it. So they did what they could, while they could.

You had woken up in a warm bed, in a pair of warm arms, Annie's arms. You looked around, you assumed that camp had been moved, but when Annie wouldn't let you leave her side. You got suspicious.

"Listen, everyone else is out, there is no point in doing all of this. You need rest, you've been working hard. Go. To. Sleep."

The last part wasn't a suggestion, she was giving you a command. While she hoped you'd take it, if not...it would become Piecks problem. While Annie is good at dealing punishments, she isn't good at. . . non-sexual ones.

Pieck on the other hand can play the role of the angry mother. Teaching her dumb child a lesson. Pieck is the worst of the two, she's mean and she knows it. She has a motherly vibe and uses your weakness to it to her advantage.

You fought her until you finally got out of Annies grip. You ran out only to see no one else around, you were alone. With two very, very psychotic girls.

Annie ran out to take you back it, and that's when you heard it. You turned to see Pieck in her titan form, glaring down at you two. She looked a lot scarier like that, considering she could eat you at any moment.

"Please go back inside."

That all you needed to hear. You ran in. Once you saw the smoke and watched Annie and Pieck walk in, you knew what had happened. What you didn't know, is that this was going to go on until you three died.

And I don't mean from Eren. He was stopped, these two girl. Nothing can stop them.

It took about a few months to see just how crazy they really are. Pieck will kill anyone and anything on sight, she goes fishing in her titan form. Annie cooks, and cleans, she's also the one keeping the knives hidden. Wether to keep her and Pieck safe from you, or to keep you safe from an angry Pieck.

Annie does sexual punishments, as well as mental punishments. She makes you think eveyone threw you away, that they didn't care, and that you were meaningless. Pieck deal the physical punishments, you'd be surprised the strength she has when you piss her off. It usually consists of her holding you in her arms as you cry; dragging a knife against your skin. She doesn't care if you cry out for help from Annie. It wont do much.

"Please don't cry, it only hurts if you move, angel. Please don't move."

You always do though, you get scared and jump. The knife sinks deep into your skin. You cry in pain and Pieck hushes you, tells you to breath and talks you through the pain.

It takes time for you to live them, if you ever do. They know what they're doing is wrong, and mad, and horrible, not that they care. They love seeing you, just seeing you has endorphins rushing through them.

You have night where you cry, you lay down and cry and think about your friends and family. Those are the only nights they leave you alone, they let you be by yourself. Be in your own mind, because they know what it's like to lose so many. They both know you deserve the right to grieve, for however long it takes.

In the end, both girls will find a way in the bed, snuggling up to you. You sniffle against them, and wonder if this is a neverending nightmare.

"Shh, shh, I know, I know you miss them. It'll all be okay, Annie nor I will leave you. Ever."

"Piecks right, we know were not the lover's you need, but were the best you got currently. We will always be here for you."

Annie secretly enjoys seeing you cry in her arms, it let's her know your trust her enough to be weak around her. Pieck likes it because she's secretly a freaky sadist...

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Completely different people. In bed you see(depending on your preferences) the best/worst sides of them. Annie is, rough, and mean(a brat), and a bottom sometimes, and did I mention can go for over 6 rounds!? Pieck is a sadist mommy dom, hard top, kinkier than all hell, and she can go for about 7 maybe 8 rounds.

Both girls have a lot of pent up sexual energy, so while they were sleeping with eachother for a while.(after you three "dissapeared"). That doesn't mean they dont still want you. No in fact, it makes it much worse because they want all of you.

Unless you give them permission though, they wont do it. They'll look at you, think about you, even moan your name while sleeping with eachother. They never touch you until you're ready.

Although once your ready, be ready because they do not stop for a long, long time. At first they're both scared, they think you'll back out or push them away if they're too rough.

They don't wont to hurt you unless necessary...or unless it feels good. Cough cough Pieck.

They're so sweet with you the first night, Annie ate you out while Pieck held you through it, and rubbed you clit. She kissed you all over, and your neck was covered in marks. Both girls truly tried their hardest when it came to not scaring you, they really did!

Over time you started to see their kinkier sides come out. One night Pieck pulled on your hair and made you beg to eat her out, you did as commanded. She was in so much bliss she didn't even see the tears forming in your eyes as she pulled on your hair.

She was apologizing for days after that one.

Annie slipped up one night when she thought you weren't giving her enough attention. She grabbed your throat and told you to give her your love and not just Pieck, or else. She ment it. She started biting your neck and giving you large marks that sure as hell weren't just hickeys.

She felt so bad she was the one begging later. Begging for you to forgive her that is.

There have been times where it's only you and Annie or you and Pieck. The girls do act differently because they don't have to share in those moments. Annie is more bratty, usually she's "corrected" by Pieck. Pieck is rougher, more times than not Annie has to remind her to calm down.

Both have a long possessive streak. They went into a nearby town with you once and saw some girls staring at you. All you remember from that night is blood, the smell of metal, and the taste of Pieck and Annie's tounges in your mouth.

"Mm, so good for me. My little angel, you need all of mommy's love and attention, huh?"

"Pretty thing, you're going to look prettier with my markings on you. We can even show Pieck later."

They have fucked you over a dead body at least once. They find it fun, and you're being fucked so well, you dont even notice.

When you finally tell them you want to see the real side of them in bed, they were both sceptical. They were afraid you run and hide, they were afraid that the work they'd dont would go to waste. You assured them, or you tried to at least.

Finally the two agree. That night was on of the best you'd ever had.

Annie had been repeatedly trying to scratch and bote your throat, she'd do it purposely and sometimes she'd do it subconsciously. She pinned you to the bed and had a momentary fight on who was first to eat you.

Pieck won. She ate you better than she ever has before. Instead of all the gentle teasing from before, now she'd grab your hips and practically force your pussy against her face. She licks, and bites, and nips, and sucks. She does everything differently, she's hard, and rough, and seeing you cry from overstimulation puts her so close to her edge.

You pull on her hair and scratch at her head. You begged for her to slow down, all she'd do is give you a sweet smile and go back to destroying your poor pussy. When she finally decided that she was done, you had to tap out for the night. There was no way you could continue after that.

You watched the two girls have a couple goes a it before coming to lay down with you. A few nights later Annie pounces on you, she gives you a sharp glare. She was mad she didn't get her turn last time, and mad at you for not giving her the time to play with you.

When it comes to eating you out Annie is much meaner than Pieck. She teases you, tests the water, she wants to see how long she can drag things out. She'll listen to you whine, and cry, and beg her to eat your pussy. You'll beg saying you're aching, and you need it, but it doesn't matter. Annie let's you cum, when she believes you deserve it.

She of course at some point does finally give in. She makes things feels better than they ever have before. You have on multiple occasions cried because of how hard you came from her tounge.

Annie and Pieck are such great lovers. They love making you feel good, but they also know moderation. They help calm you down, help you breath through it all.

Aftercare is something else with those two. One is scared to even touch you(Pieck), and the other is still riled up and has a hard time thinking properly(Annie). Pieck always worries you hate her when you're done, she thinks her sadistic tendencies hurt you. Shes has and will cry over it. Annie can barely focus on her surroundings. She either watching you waiting for you to move, or she's angry. With herself of course.

Annie is angry that you might not like it. She's just as afraid as Pieck. She is better at hiding it, yandere!Annie is more emotional and scary at times. This is because she can't control herself around you. She needs you, that includes your body.

Please let them love you. Both girls have gone through literal hell, they need someone, you, they need you. Please be there for them.

DONT EVER SAY I DON'T SPOIL YALL!!! I DO DAMMIT! Anyway I really enjoyed writing this one. It was one if my personal favorites. Please of you are interested in commissions go look at THIS PAGE. (Just click the words). Have a good day/night.

[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky gets stitched up, the reader struggles to keep her thoughts in check, and the happy couple moves into their new home.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks

Bucky led you up the porch steps to the front door. He opened it slowly, stepping aside to let you in first. He was watching you carefully. The inside of the house was just as charming as the outside. The house was old, from the 50s if you had to guess. It had a lot of character. The entryway had one of those little cutouts in the wall for knickknacks, and you smiled - you love old houses and their little quirks. You were praying the bathroom had a pink tub.

Bucky was pleased with your reaction to the house and decided to show you around. "The bedrooms are all upstairs. The master is to the left. There's only one bathroom up there, so we'll have to share with our little shadows," he said, gesturing to the two black SUVs sitting in the driveway. “They moved all your stuff from the hotel into our bedroom. Get settled while I talk to the guys outside,” he instructed. A shiver went down your spine. Our bedroom. Holy shit. And the way he kept telling you what to do? Bucky Barnes was turning you into a little puddle.

You did as you were told and went upstairs. Everything was pretty basic – a plain beige comforter, nothing hanging on the walls, very bare bones. Just wait until I hit up HomeGoods, you thought. You went into the bathroom to put away your toothbrush, and sure enough, a pink tub. “Oh HELL yes!” you said to yourself. Little did you know Bucky was watching you from the top of the staircase, smiling at your excitement over a bathroom. He spoke before you could notice him watching you. “Dinner’s here. I hope you like pizza.”

You followed him downstairs to see two agents eating on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, watching a football game on the TV. You and Bucky shared a look – your new roommates were going to test your patience. He put a couple slices on your plate and sat down next to you at the kitchen table. The two of you ate in silence. Well, as silent as it could be with two goons cheering at the TV. You felt at ease, almost like you were just enjoying each other’s company. Stop making things more romantic than they are, you’re just eating pizza, you told yourself. Just because you were practically in love with him doesn’t mean that he feels the same. Besides, you don’t really know him. And he definitely doesn’t know you.

Despite what you thought, Bucky did know a little about you. SHIELD made a report of all the intel they could gather about you, and he got his very own copy. It was a very extensive file, everything from your work performance evals to personality tests to purchasing habits. Each night, he would read over your file and learn as much as he could. He gathered you really loved Target and planned on taking you there once your belly gets too big for your clothes. The thought of you with round with his child gave him butterflies. Besides the initial rage he feels about this study, he felt nervous. He wasn’t sure he was ready or deserved to be a father. Pregnancy scared the shit out of him, but he knew he’d have to man up and be there for you.

Wanting to stay away from the noise of the agents watching football, you decided to head up to the bedroom. It was barely 7:00, but you were ready for sleep. Bucky said he’d be up in a couple minutes, he had a phone call to make. You were about to crawl into bed when you remembered you needed to charge your phone. You looked all over the room, but no luck. You thought you’d check Bucky’s nightstand – maybe he put yours in there without thinking. Sliding the drawer open, you see a copy of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” You laughed quietly. Bucky was actually preparing himself for this. Your laugh turned into a frown when you remembered the reason you’re in this house to begin with. The entire situation was against your will. And his.

You closed the drawer and decided you’d ask Bucky if he had a spare charger once he got to the room. You didn’t last long after crawling into bed. Bucky walked in and saw that you were asleep, so he moved as quietly as possible. He noticed you were still wearing your glasses, so he reached down gently to take them off. You fluttered your eyes open as he was setting them down.

“Do you have an extra phone charger?” you mumbled, still half asleep. He chuckled. “Yeah, gimme a second,” he said as he started rummaging through his bag. He pulled one out, walked over to your side of the bed, and plugged in the cord. “Where’s your phone?” he asked. You patted your hands around until you found it wrapped in the sheets. Bucky gestured for you to give it to him. He plugged your phone in and set it on the nightstand, then walked over to his side of the bed.

You were waiting to feel the bed shift under his weight, but it never came. You turned around. His pillow was gone. Sitting up on your heels to get a better view, you see him on the floor at the foot of the bed, laying down with his pillow and a blanket.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Going to bed, like I thought you were doing,” he answers.

“I didn’t think you were being serious about sleeping on the floor. We can share the bed, Bucky. It’s not a big deal.” You were kind of looking forward to sleeping next to him.

“Nah, I’m fine here. Just go to bed, Y/N.”

You settled back into bed with a frown. It seemed wrong to sleep on this comfy bed while he slept on the hardwood floor. But you were too tired to argue. You kept to your side of the bed in case he changes his mind in the middle of the night.

You woke up to the sound of Bucky in distress. It took you a minute to figure out what was going on – you were a little disoriented. You shot out of bed to see him clearly in the middle of a nightmare. He was clutching his metal arm, knuckles turning white. “Bucky?” you whispered. You didn’t want to wake up the agents sleeping in the rooms down the hall. “Bucky, wake up,” you pleaded as you knelt next to him.

Not wanting to frighten him, you rubbed your thumb along his cheekbone. “Bucky?” He still wasn’t waking up, so you decided it was time for a little nudge. Being gentle yet assertive, you gave him a solid poke in the ribs, being careful not to bother the fresh wound in his shoulder. Bucky’s eyes shot open, seeing a figure looming over him.

Before you could process what was happening, Bucky was on top of you with his metal hand wrapped around your throat. “Bucky, it’s me! Bucky please it’s just me!” you wheezed out, already seeing stars. You saw confusion on his face, which quickly turned to horror. He shot up and scrambled off you, backing into the far corner of the room.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he muttered over and over. You were coughing violently, trying to get the air back in your lungs. Once you caught your breath, you looked over at him. He was staring at you with complete devastation.

“Bucky? Are you okay?” you asked quietly.

“I hurt you,” he whispered.

“No, I’m okay, I promise. It was just a nightmare. We’re okay,” you reassured.

Your heart was breaking at the sight of him in such despair. He shook his head and fought back tears. The one good thing he had in his life and he almost killed her. “Hey, come on, let’s crawl into bed,” you said. You grabbed his arm and helped him up. He flinched at your touch; you tried to not let that bother you. You guided him to his side of the bed. He wouldn’t lay down, but he sat on the edge and looked out the window. You sat next to him and started rubbing circles in his back. “I promise it’s okay,” you whispered, “we’re going to be okay.” You hoped to god you were right.

Chapter 6

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom @learisa @pono-pura-vida @smile1318 @stinkerbelle007 @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @wonderland2425

[waittheydontloveyou]

Here have my brain

1. Piper says hi. Mostly I call him ‘kitty’ or ‘kee kee’. He sleeps and lays on me all the time. It feels like I have a sweet lil baby again and it’s kinda nice yall. We think he’s 2 months old now.

2. My face has been more dry/peely/red lately. Not sure if it’s the kitten or just my lack of self care honestly. It’s not new but it is worse. I have what I think is rosacea or eccema or both. I know my skin does better under different eating conditions and was absolutely perfect when I did keto a million years ago. But lol no

3. Trying ozempic. Just got week 5’s shot. Slowly losing weight. A few pounds a week. (I’m down 21lbs total🎉 just like 80-100 to go🤣 god that’s depressing). I feel like I can tell a difference in my stomach but i said that and the next day a patient asked me if I was pregnant so maybe I’m just imagining it🤣(this is a recurring thing, people asking me if I’m pregnant since gaining weight. It’s all in the very best place to store fat. My belly😒) sometimes I lie and tell people yes I’m pregnant bc I don’t want them to feel embarrassed for me. 🤦🏻‍♀️🤣 like when it’s a patient and imma have to deal with them all night it’s sometimes easier to just say yes so they’re not all weird for 12 more hours) anyways I’m 28 weeks and it’s a girl and her name will be Polly. (Lol jk)

Pros: appetite is that of a human. Portion control is done for me. Like I don’t even want to eat more than when I feel full. I FEEL full. Haven’t felt that in years since starting depression meds 11 years ago. I’m less nauseated than before starting it, I’m guessing bc I’m prediabetic and my blood sugars were shit.

Cons: literally none for me so far. I was nervous re nausea bc I was already struggling with that before. But it’s improved it. I still get nauseas sometimes but it’s even less than prior to starting the med. I started off at the lowest ever dose (4 units- max is 45 I think). Todays dose I did 8 for the second week. Nice to know when/if things are stagnate I can move up. Im doing this in place of weight loss surgery for now.

4. Weight loss surgery. I went to my appointment last week and honestly it scared the crap out of me. They were trying to rush it and make you sign contracts stating you’ll get a cardiologist, pulmonologist, nutritionist, psych, surgeon all to meet you and then monthly until your surgery and then see psych and nutritionist and them after and if you don’t you’re off the list and have to start over. Also I have to stop vaping and they test you and lol I’m here bc I have no self control lol. Also I couldn’t afford it. The only way I can afford the ozempic bc my friend is an NP and gets it for me.

5. I straightened up some and showered today. Where’s my prize?

[toournextadventure]

If you're able to do a story based on Katy Perry's The One That Got Away where the reader is immortal or a vampire and they were connected with Goody Addams (basically had a relationship or smthng with her idk her age) but moments before she was burned to death they had a "In another life I'll look for you" type of moment and R cant do anything because they were tied and held back forcing to watch Goody die the way she did. Then to the present, R finds Wednesday amidst the crowd and they just push through the crow to get to Wednesday hugged her while Wednesday has a vision of the R and Goody's past and they have this "I found you" , "You found me" moment. THANK YOU

I am OBSESSED with this premise, you're a GENIUS

i found you

“Goody, no!”

Your eyes flew open as the dark room enveloped you. The air was cold and the sound of the fan mixed with the rain outside to form the perfect sleeping conditions. It truly was a shame you had been awakened by yet another nightmare.

No, not another one. The same one.

Slowly, you sat up and rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes. It seemed it was going to be another early day, just like yesterday. And the day before, and the day before that. Gods, you just couldn’t manage to get Goody’s burning face out of your mind. Hundreds of years had passed and you still couldn’t force yourself to forget.

A familiar burning sensation seared down your throat once your body had finally woken up enough to comprehend it’s needs. With a sigh, your feet hit the cold ground and you dug your toes into the rug before standing up. The fridge was only a few feet away in your tiny studio apartment, but still too far when it was this early.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you slammed your fridge door closed. Seemed you had run out of blood faster than anticipated. Well, it was a rainy day; you could pick someone out pretty easily and no one would be the wiser.

You sat down on your couch and turned to the first senseless show you could find at such an early hour. Something about restaurants, you didn’t really care to pay attention. Its only purpose was to kill time until you could reasonably walk around outside without drawing too much attention.

But the wait was torture. As the show droned on in the background, your mind drifted back to that day. To that day all those years ago where you were forced to watch the most painful thing you had ever witnessed, worse even than your own turning. The memories felt like a vice grip around your unbeating heart, squeezing what little life was left out of the cold muscle.

You wiped the tears away once the clock struck seven. No more use in sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, it was time to hunt. There was no need to try and protect yourself from the rain; you simply grabbed your coat so you could blend in with the rest of the morning crowd.

The smell of rain calmed the nerves that never seemed to truly disappear. It didn’t matter how many times you had actually hunted, a small part of you remained nervous with every outing. Maybe it was the fact that you were taking a part of someone’s life, you weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t going to stop you. If Crackstone could be celebrated for his bigotry, you could live with taking just a bit of life force from a normie.

Call it reparations.

The streets were far more crowded than you had anticipated; a bigger selection, but far riskier. Good, it always added a sense of adventure. You found a nice stoop to hang out in as you watched the crowd walk by, your eyes searching each and every face that passed in an attempt to find your target.

Until your eyes froze on a familiar face, familiar hair, familiar eyes. A face that you would have recognised even in the darkest of nights. One that you hadn’t seen outside of your nightmares in over 200 years. And there she was, walking amongst the common folk as if she had not a care in the world.

You had to get back to her.

Wednesday loved the rain; the sound it made when falling against the umbrella, the smell of it on the concrete, everything about it. So she could be forgiven for deciding to walk that morning instead of having Lurch take her to her final destination. Her umbrella kept her dry and everyone gave her a wide berth.

Even with the space everyone was giving her, Wednesday could still see that someone was parting the crowd like the red sea. There was no chance she was going to move, not for some entitled asshole that was coming directly at her and-

-she felt arms envelope her in a hug so tight she almost couldn’t breathe.

The crowd around her vanished and was replaced by a different crowd, one full of pilgrims. The moon shone down on the screaming and cheering crowd and Wednesday pushed her way through to the center. There Crackstone stood next to a wooden pyre, and someone who looked just like her was tied up; Goody Addams, her mind told her.

Across the clearing was another pyre, one with someone else tied to it. You. You were struggling against the ropes, but the pilgrims around you kept you contained. One of the pilgrims carried a torch over to Goody, prepared to drop it at the bottom of the pyre.

“Look for me,” Goody said, her eyes staring at you and you only. There was an acceptance in her eyes, though it didn’t erase the fear.

“Goody, no!” You screamed once the pilgrim dropped the torch, and the roar of the fire echoed in Wednesday’s ears as she came back to the present.

She pulled back from the arms to see you, looking down at her with tears in your eyes and a pain on your face that Wednesday had seen only once. A look so full of fear and relief and absolute desperation. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyes scoured every inch of her face, her skin, her.

“I found you,” you mumbled, your words barely audible over the sound of the rain and Wednesday’s own heart.

“You found me,” she answered just as quietly, pulling you back into a hug and hearing a heartbeat that sounded familiar.

Sounded like home.

[thenightfolknetwork]

Turning isn't fun for me. I don't know if it's my particular strain of lycanthropy or if it's just me, but it hurts... a lot. It's really inconvenient.

I can feel the full moon deep in my bones. I've heard others describe it like a buzzing energy, a pinch in your center, or ah, I don't know a restlessness, maybe? It's annoying and a pain to deal with, but ultimately, nothing completely life altering. It's not like that for me.

For me, the moon is a constant ache that grows worse as the month advances. I can feel my bones grinding, twisting, and shuffling around. I've had to make a chart on what times of the month certain foods are dangerous for me to eat because the closer I get to the full, the more canine my insides are.

Now, my pack is incredibly supportive in all this. We've gone to doctors, witches, the fae, you name it, to try and find a way to cope. So far, we can't pin what's wrong, but we've found a way to manage my pain to be somewhat tolerable. My pack is not the problem. My problem is Debbie.

Debbie is a wolf shifter. While her change is influenced by the moon, she has conscious control over when she can shift, and by her own admission, it's virtually painless. She is also my only coworker connected to the community.

It was fine for a while. I thought we'd hit it off. As the only two people of the night, we could support each other like no one else in the job could. We'd trade jokes, cover each other's shifts at work when we weren't scheduled the same day, or just talk. I considered her a friend, or maybe more than, and even talked about introducing my pack to her.

The thing is, due to the nature of my condition, I have to take three days off a month. For years, this set up as been fine. Sure, I get a little less time off than everyone, but I love my job, and it's not like i can really go anywhere, so I don't consider it much of a loss.

But last month, my time off was denied. They wouldn't accept it. I asked if there was anything I could do to get it off, another sick note or something, but they said that they had "investigated" my condition and confirmed with someone else in the community that I was overexaggerating my symptoms. They told me they would let me off with a warning because of my track record, but not to make it a habit.

I was crushed. One of the reasons I love my job is because of their leniency. Without it, I would get burnt out and possibly aggravate my condition.

I told Debbie what happened. It was partly to see if she could cover my shift, but also to warn her to be vigilant and protect herself in case something similar happened to her. It turns out, SHE was the one that claimed my symptoms were overexaggerated! This whole time, she thought I was making out my condition as worse than it is. Her packmates don't have my problems, so clearly I'm just trying weasel in some paid time off.

I was so, so angry. I shouldn't have yelled, but my pain, both mind and body, was excruciating, and I couldn't take it anymore. I think I got the point across, though. By the time one of my packmates came to pick me up, she looked absolutely wrecked.

It's been a month and we haven't spoken outside of work related things. I'm currently looking for a new job because even with paid time off, my condition is slowly eating into it. Plus, I have a life outside of my job and would like to spend time with my pack.

But I don't want to leave Debbie on a sour note. I might not trust her like I used to, but she was a friend. With me leaving, She'll be the only person of the night in the job. I feel guilty leaving her by herself.

So, how do I approach this? She broke my trust, but we have too much history for me to feel comfortable leaving without saying anything.

How can I talk to her without getting hurt? Is that even possible anymore?

I'll get to the final part of your question in just a moment, reader. First, I want to address some of the issues you've raised about your workplace.

You say that, because you take three sick days a month, you get less holiday than your co-workers. From this, I am inferring that you are taking these days off as holiday rather than sick leave. Which raises a great many questions about their refusal to grant you leave on the grounds of this so-called “investigation” of your condition.

Your employer is entitled to refuse you leave, but they can only turn down those requests on reasonable grounds, and they cannot refuse to give you your leave entirely. This refusal does not seem to be made on the grounds of any clear business grounds – they haven't cited understaffing as the reason, for example.

In fact, any business concerns they might cite are clearly unsubstantiated. You've been working there for years, with no evidence at all that this time off has affected the business. And if they have no business grounds on which to refuse you, you're entitled to take that time off as you wish.

Instead, your employers have refused you on the grounds of their so-called “investigation” of your health condition, thereby treating your holiday leave as sick leave. If this time off is sick leave, they need to do far more than asking the opinion of some random person of the night. To deny you sick leave, they must conduct a proper investigation into your condition and take the actual medical evidence into account.

There is a wealth of medical evidence that somatic transformation is a radically varied phenomenon, and chronic, painful transformations are well-documented as a real medical concern. This is not to mention the evidence you've accrued over the years of your own efforts to find treatment for your condition.

In short, they have no grounds to refuse you this time off. If you really don't want to leave that place of work, you need to stand your ground and push for the leave you're entitled to. Speak to your manager, and make it clear that you know your rights and are willing to escalate the matter as necessary to see that those rights are respected.

I also strongly recommend you speak to this manager about the obvious lack of professionalism shown by discussing your private medical issues with another employee. As well as being a violation of your privacy, it's also demonstrates an appalling lack of respect for liminal identities and the diversity of experiences within the community.

In short, reader, put the fear of God into them. With any luck, you'll be able to keep your job and your time off, and find the balance you need to manage your condition in a healthy, sustainable way.

As for Debbie, that's really up to you. You say you don't know how to speak to her without getting hurt, but that's not something you can control. There is nothing you can do to ensure she won't say something at best thoughtless, and at worst, actively hurtful. All you can do is brace yourself for the possibility, and plan for how you can look after yourself if she does end up hurting you.

To be frank, however, I'm not sure she deserves it. She's undermined your trust and forsaken any right to your time and energy. Talk to her if you really want to, but I think you'd be well within your rights to draw a line under that relationship and concentrate on relationships that centre respect and mutual care – or at the very least, a modicum of solidarity.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 4

Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU

Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut (mild), treat it as a normal Enemies 2 Lovers book, but the A/B/O dynamic will appear at some point.

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

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Chapter 4

The sound of the alarm was blasting nonstop next to his head, and he groaned loudly as he opened his eyes.

He looked over to see it was 6:00 AM. 

Eddie ran his hands over his face, and he rubbed his hair which was still wet from the prior night, having to take a shower as soon as he got home. He groaned as he slowly sat up, his hair falling over his shoulders, feeling the cold of it against his bare skin. He swung his legs over the bed, finally getting up to get a big stretch.

He walked outside of his room, heading towards his kitchen to get a glass of water, before going to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw the tiredness in his eyes. He shouldn’t have stayed longer than he should. He’ll just message Gareth to open up the shop himself so he could sleep in a little bit. He opened the cabinet behind the mirror, and retrieved an orange pill bottle.

He opened it to take one of the large pills out, immediately chugging it down with a gulp of water. He closed the pill bottle and put it back into the cabinet, only to retrieve one of the small glass vials with a purple liquid in them. He only had to do this once a week, and it was due for him to inject a new dose. 

He got a one-use sterile syringe from one of the drawers below and some cotton and rubbing alcohol. He put everything down on the sink and grabbed some of the cotton, drenching it in alcohol, to clean the area between his neck and shoulder. He then opened the pack of the syringe and took it out, to then fill it with the purple liquid that was in the vial. He tapped a few times to make the bubbles come out and then stretched his neck, injecting the medicine there.

He huffed a bit. He was used to this by now, because his health and his condition had been like this since he was 16. He felt how his whole body cooled down just a bit and he groaned in relief as it did. He was glad he had some tattoos running towards his neck, hiding the needle marks he has there from over the years. 

He pulled the needle out and pressed some cotton on his neck to seal the small puncture. He noticed the anger last night, worse than a normal day, and he knew it was because he was due to this injection. He started tidying his bathroom up and then closed the cabinet to look at his reflection again.

He remembered his interaction with you. He was angry, beyond words after you threw the liquid into his face, and he got even angrier after you threw yourself onto him, ready to punch him square in the cheek. He was stronger than you, he knows it, and he kept his hands to himself as best as he could, but he was starting to see red last night, and he was glad that Steve knows about his condition and immediately took him away from you.

But if he couldn’t hurt you physically, then he would hurt you with words, and that’s what he did. What he didn’t know is that his words hurt you on a different level than he thought they would. Eddie winced at the memory of your distant eyes, when all he wanted was for you to go at him again, yell, throw a slap or something.

But you just stood still, looking at him, and then calmly left without speaking to anybody. He knows there’s so much more to your life than what you give Robin, and that’s the main reason he doesn’t like you. Robin is there to give you her full trust, and her friendship, just like she did for him, yet you didn’t want to open up to her, to anybody for that fact. 

He was seeing his own friends, fighting for someone’s trust who didn’t even acknowledge it, or cared that they did. You weren’t even thankful enough to give them your real story, or your real motives. You often lied about your dates going well, and he won’t ever forget how you lied about wanting to go on a date with Jonathan.

It was a week after meeting you, Eddie really thought of apologizing and starting over, thinking that if you didn’t talk about your past it must be because of some personal reason he doesn’t have the right to meddle in. But then, Jonathan asked you out, and his friend had liked you since the first moment he saw you, but you; you accepted the invitation, already knowing you saw him as a friend.

And that irritated him even more.

He protected his friends like family, and something about you was completely off with him. He didn’t trust you, he didn’t like you, but his friends did for some unknown reason, and that might be because he didn’t get to know you personally and they did, but his first impression of you was enough for him to not be interested in doing so.

Whatever it is that you went through was obvious that you didn’t want anything to do with it anymore, but still, Eddie believes his friends deserve an explanation, and even more so if you were going to snap at him like you did last night. He doesn’t even want the explanation himself, he just wants his friends, who actually like you and trust you completely, to receive the same kind of trust from you.

He groaned as he clenched his fists against the sink, taking a deep breath in and cracking his neck, side to side. Should he apologize to you? Should he even try? But why would he? What good would it do? You won’t believe his apology, so maybe the best option here is to simply shut up about it, and let it go behind you both, put it in the past.

“Fuck.” He sighed heavily as the flash of your eyes came back to his mind. He really did fucking hurt you with that one. He blamed himself for it, for not being careful about his medication. He should have taken everything the day before, because if he did, maybe your lies wouldn’t have gotten to him the way they did. It’s not like you’re a special case, it happened to everyone at least once.

Steve never took it personally when Eddie would snap at him when his meds were running low in his system, but he did get into a fight with Robin once. That lasted for a whole week, and he took the matter in his own hands, showing at her home with flowers, and a pair of tickets to go see the nutcracker, even if Eddie fucking hated ballet.

He winced at the memory of forgetting his meds back here when he visited Wayne in Hawkins. He had to drive his uncle away because he was afraid of hurting the poor old man. He took a deep breath to look at himself in the mirror again. He hated this of himself, he hated it, with every fiber in his body, but there’s nothing he can do but keep taking his meds to balance his emotions out. 

He turned the light of the bathroom off to head back towards his bedroom, immediately flopping onto the bed, head first. He grabbed his cellphone and messaged Gareth to open the shop for him, that he feels sick and will come in some time later. He blocked his phone and put it on the night table again, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before closing his eyes.

He should have taken the meds one day prior.

—————————————————

He cursed in excitement as he turned the ignition key of an old Ford and the engine came to life. He had to put a lot of money in spare parts but the owner of the car had agreed either way in the repair. 

“Food delivery!” Steve yelled loudly into the garage with four bags of Five Guys. Gareth and Jeff rushed towards him, starving and finally able to have a lunch break.

“God, Harrington, you are godsend.” Gareth exclaimed with a relieved sigh as he took his own bag of food while Steve chuckled, handing Jeff his own, who was rolling his eyes at his friend’s exaggeration. Eddie closed his car’s door, confused as to why Steve came by to his shop, but he won’t deny the bag of fast food in front of him. He walked towards him, ready to take the bag but Steve pulled it away from him, earning a glare from Eddie’s part.

“Oh no… You and I have some talking to do.” And shit. Eddie groaned loudly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Seriously Harrington?” Eddie stood his ground against Steve but the younger male didn’t budge, he simply shrugged and smirked at his friend.

“If we don’t talk, you get no food. Easy as that, and it’s your fucking favorite Munson.” At that Eddie’s ears perked up and he looked back at Gareth and Jeff who were already devouring their burgers and Eddie’s stomach grumbled in protest. He turned to Steve again, snatching the bag of food from his hands before walking outside of the garage.

Steve smiled at his friend’s antics and walked behind him, following him to the back of the garage where Eddie took his smoke breaks and he had a nice picnic table set so that he and the boys could have breaks with some fresh air. They both sat down, across from each other, and they started taking the food out of their bags. Steve munched on a fry as Eddie started preparing his burger with some of his fries inside.

“So… Care to tell me what the fuck happened yesterday?” Eddie winced at that and shook his head, closing his burger.

“She started it, Steve. She threw the beer on my face.” Eddie says, taking a bite out of his burger and Steve squinted at his friend.

“Yeah, of course, but I bet that she didn’t do it for the hell of it Munson… So what did you say to her?” Eddie looked at his friend with an offended look in his eyes and shook his head as he swallowed the bite.

“I am your best friend, and you don’t believe me?” 

“Fuck no.” Eddie’s eyes widened slightly at Steve and then nodded as if deep in thought.

“I see how it is, Harrington.” At that Steve scoffed, already tired of Eddie’s dramatism.

“I believe you in everything else, but I don’t trust that you didn’t say anything to her for her to become like that.” Eddie looked down at his food as he ate quietly, deliberating if to simply talk it out, or keep it inside, but he knew that the pounding on his heart and the guilt he felt in his belly wasn’t just going to disappear. He sighed and put his burger down on the wrapped as he ran his hands through his face.

“I could tell she was lying about her date… Once again.” Steve shook his head as he took a bite out of his burger. “I mean, Steve, I’m sorry I just fucking hate liars. I hate people that try to fit in, and I hate even more the fact that you all trust her but she doesn’t trust you back.” At that, Steve rolled his eyes as he swallowed.

“You think I tell her my biggest secrets Eddie? Seriously, just because she doesn’t want to tell us about whatever she went through in Atlanta, doesn’t make her a bad person.” Steve explained and now it was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes.

“What if she did something back there? What if she did something bad? Something she is ashamed of saying?” Eddie exclaims as he takes a big bite out of his burger again and then a sip of his drink.

“Then if she is ashamed it means she regrets it. Eddie, we trust the girl we met now, not the girl she wants to forget.” At that, Eddie stared down at his food, his mind going back to your absent eyes as you looked at noone in particular. It didn’t look like someone who did something bad, but rather, it looked like they did wrong to you at some point. His stomach twisted and he cursed loudly because it was messing with his hunger.

“I went overboard last night…” Steve nodded as he took a fry in his mouth and his eyebrows raised up feigning surprise.

“No fucking shit.” 

“My meds were due… I should of taken them yesterday morning.” Eddie looked up at the sky as he took a deep breath in, and his eyes immediately went to Steve, who was looking at him with worry.

“You okay with that? The meds are okay?” Steve asked and Eddie nodded, finally feeling the knot go away in his stomach and start eating again. Steve knew Eddie didn’t like talking about his condition, so he changed subjects again. “Are you going to say sorry to her?” Eddie almost chokes on a fry at that.

“No way. It would only make matters worse really. Just let some time go by and we’ll see from there, until then it might be better to not cross paths with her.” Eddie explains and Steve huffs at him, putting his drink down.

“Are you seriously going to run away from that? I mean, maybe if you apologize, you can get a new friend.” Eddie looked at him with a skeptical look in his eyes.

“I won’t tolerate her lying to me in my face, Harrington, I’m not like you, or anyone else for that matter.” Steve caught on his words and bit the inside of his cheek, and simply gave up on the subject. The worst part is that you both might even be good friends, and Steve knows it, everyone knows it, except for you and Eddie. Your tastes are alike, your sense of humor is the same, your exaggerated banterings are the same. 

But Steve understood, or at least he tried to. He understands that Eddie’s condition is not one that would let him trust people that easily, but he can’t help but think that the older male is a little bit hypocritical. 

Steve and Dustin are the only ones that know about his condition, about his sickness. Eddie never opened up about it to Robin, Nancy, Argyle or Jonathan. It was just a coincidence and simply bad timing, but if you think about it, it was excellent timing, because if Steve didn’t rush Eddie to his doctor in time, he didn’t know what Eddie would have done in that state.

“Fine… Just, don’t get on her nerves anymore Ed… Not like that. She looked deeply hurt with your last words.” And Eddie winced again, not wanting to remember your face any longer, because he remembered your despair, your nervousness, your fear. He could see it all. He knew Steve wanted to help, but what was done was done, and there really wasn’t a way to go back on his words now. 

“Just let it go, Steve. She and I are never going to be friends.” And Steve gave a scoff at that, already putting away the trash in the fast food bag.

“You’re impossible. I hope you know that.” Eddie nodded in understanding but a small tug of the lips happened at the corner of his lips. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his messages, searching for Wayne’s last conversation. He opened it and took a deep breath before sending a greeting to him. Steve noticed the slight switch of emotions in his friend’s eyes and body movement and cracked his knuckles as he looked at him. “Is he better?”

Eddie gulped and put his phone away as he put the trash away from his food, taking final sips of his drink. He rarely talked about himself, or his feelings, or about his family in general, and Steve was glad he could make his friend at least give him the short version of things.

“Lucia is taking care of him… She says he does look more energized after the last chemo session.” He replies, still not looking at Steve, but his friend noticed the lack of response of ‘yes’ or ‘no’. So he wasn’t going to nudge any further into that topic. He knew Wayne is the last family member Eddie’s got, and since he was diagnosed with cancer last year, Eddie’s been reluctant to actually let other people inside his life. 

The older male didn’t do things because of malice. He just believed that keeping people away is better than driving them in, knowing that one day they will probably leave, by their own accord, or life would simply run out on them. He is bracing himself for Wayne’s departure, because he knows there’s no way of stopping lung cancer, it’s just buying time for the inevitable. 

His mood darkened at the thoughts and he groaned, standing up and Steve followed, looking at Eddie with a pained look in his face.

“You know that we’re here… right?” Steve reminded his friend, and Eddie felt his chest warm at his words. He gave a small nod as he patted Steve’s shoulder.

“Thank you for the food. Go help Jonathan, I’m sure you left him completely alone at the bar.” Steve waved at him with a ‘pff’ noise in his lips. 

“He can handle an hour without me.” He said with a smile and Eddie shook his head with a chuckle, looking towards his shop. 

“Okay, let me know if there are any plans for the week… And, well…” Eddie didn’t go on with his words, rubbing the back of his neck. Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“We are not going to invite one and not the other. We’ll invite you both, and it will be up to you to see if you can stand one another.” Steve said with a frown to his face, and Eddie understood, nodding at him. He didn’t want to face you, he really didn’t. Not because he is scared, or because he is afraid of what could happen, but because he would want to apologize to you, and that will only make matters worse. He knows you don’t want him talking to you.

So distance it is.

—————————————————

End of chapter 4

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A/N: Please, comment or send me an ask if you desire to be put in the taglist ❤️

taglist: @enam3ll @rainybakerypandaegg @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell

[remembertheplunge]

The Screaming Room

October 22, 1986

I began reading “Thee Screaming Room”. Intriguing  and terrifying. Life in torment is beautiful.

October 23, 1986

Happy 4 year wedding anniversary! I feel a dull, throbbing feeling about it—like moths flitting off old musty clothes—hung in the closet of eternity which deserves a final shut and lock.—click—there-it’s over.

October 25, 1986 Saturday 11pm

I just finished reading “The Screaming Room”. When I ordered it, I thought “I’ll try to read a page a day until I get through it. I’ll force it down. But, after beginning to read it, I couldn’t stop. I read voraciously Every word.

It’s a touching story of undying human hope in light of hopelessness of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters and grand mothers. Binding love. AIDs is certainly the most horrible human condition I have ever heard of. It’s worse than the Nazi domination of the Jews somehow. Can I help in this war mess? I’ll be there for them if I can. At any rate, I’m glad that I lived the book. It brought me even closer to what this thing called being human really is. It’s always more exposed at the edge. Interesting, too, when Peter died, just prior, he began ever so slowly to let go, just as we do before sleep. Really got to me, too, because Peter and I were about the same age.

End of entries.

Note: 7/31/2024

“The Screaming Room: A Mother’s Journal of Her Son’s struggle with AIDS, a true story by Barbara Peabody 1986.  Peter was the name of the author’s son who died of AIDS in the book

In the fall of 1986, I began volunteering with Hand to Hand, an organization that provided care and support to people with AIDS.

I married a woman in 1982 and left her after coming out as gay in 1984.

[bijoumikhawal]

Dakh’voh pthak

For Bad Things Happen Bingo: Toxic Gas. Additional warnings for canon typical violence and anti-augment sentiment, set in a daemon AU

Vulcan mantras are from: https://visakavuhlkansuvulcanlegacy.wordpress.com/vulcan-mantras-zhit-kohlanlar-vuhlkansu/

Read on AO3

---

Julian turned to get to the docking bay, only to immediately bump into someone, making him drop his bag.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, oh, fucking-" It was another science officer, with their own dropped bag.

"It's fine." Julian mentally winced at his own tone. "I wasn't looking where I was going." he said, more gently.

The other officer bent over picking up the bags. "And I was looking, but I ran right into you. I- damnit, I really am sorry, I have a debriefing." She handed him his bag. "This one's yours, I think. Again, I'm really sorry, if you catch me in Rec Room 5 later I'll make it up to you." She ran off.

Julian rubbed his face as he slipped the strap over his shoulder to carry it properly, but he found himself smiling a bit.

He supposed there was something nice about hearing the word "sorry" from someone who didn't know him at all.

Kukalaka wove around his feet. "We're going to be late."

"No, we aren't." After a moment of thought, Julian picked her up and started walking.

Kukalaka bristled for a moment, but settled into the carry. She was picky about anything thst could lead to someone thinking of her like "a baby"- it was a carry over for cat daemons from how people saw their pets. Many people mistook her for a Bengal or Savannah, and did not realize that her form was that of a wild cat. People still avoided touching her, of course- but just as Julian often found himself annoyed by people talking about his youth, so did she with the assumption that she was a housecat.

However, she did like to be held. Just rarely in public.

---

The building was dark. Julian mentally noted that the auxiliary lights needed to be repaired. Long shadows were cast by old storage units and pieces of equipment as he flicked on his torch.

He and Kukalaka walked slowly, carefully observing the contents of the room and the overall condition everything was in. This building seemed to be primarily storage, and disused. It wasn't especially interesting- no computer stations that he could see.

As he entered the second chamber of the building, his light went out.

Julian shook his light, annoyed. It didn't come back on. He sighed and put it back in his pocket. He and Kukalaka could see just fine without it.

There were four chambers in all, with two small refreshers and a small room Julian supposed might be an office, and a slightly larger room with a two tables indicating you could take lunch there. It took Julian about 40 minutes to make a full perimeter circuit in the dark.

He really needed to do more than just the perimeter, just in case, but to do that he'd need a light. He quickened his step as he saw the door again, and pressed the button to open it.

Nothing. Nothing? Again- nothing.

Julian hit his comm badge. "Bashir to Defiant. The door to Building H has locked. Does anyone know another way out of here?"

Kukalaka got up, balancing on her hind legs to try and inspect the door. It was silent as she looked carefully, sniffing a few times.

"Bashir to Defiant. I'm serious, I didn't see another exit on the map in the mission briefing."

Kukalaka's ears flicked. "Julian."

"Bashir to- yes?"

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, and I wish-" He paused. Then he listened again.

It was silent.

Meaning Julian couldn't hear the electrical hum he had heard nearly every minute of his life for the past several years.

"Damn." Julian's mind started racing. Kukalaka dashed off in one direction to look for another exit as Julian turned the other way to do the same.

If he couldn't hear the electricity, of course the door couldn't open. And worse; the manual override didn't work properly on some of the buildings. It was why up until now, this outpost had been used only sparingly. They had come to retrieve some cached arms, yes, but they were also helping O'Brien take stock of what shape everything was in to see how long it would take to prepare it for rigorous use during the war.

Part of Julian sarcastically remarked, well, there's one more strike against being able to use this place, as he kept walking, feeling the wall panels.

If it was just that, Julian could have waited it out. Maybe, maybe it would've been worth trying to force the door. It was too thick for him to try the phaser. But if he couldn't hear the electricity... then life support wasn't working either. And there were no stores of food or water in this building. 

He forced his breathing even, remembering a Vulcan exercise he used to calm himself.

Tash-tor kashek vukhut. Tash’voh kashek heh fa-wak zahal-tor vukhut.

One of the strategic possibilities for this outpost was that it consisted of several seperate buildings, spaced each a quarter mile apart, each with its own life support and atmospheric shield. It was an attractive redundancy, especially as they likely could upgrade the shields with defensive capabilities. Combined with the lower grade technology that could minimize it's presence on radars, well.

All of those particular characteristics reminded Julian of Camp 371.

If they were lucky, the atmospheric shield was still operational, and they'd been the only ones hit. He'd use his tricorder to see before they tried whatever exit they found, obviously. Once they were out, he should be close enough to visually signal someone, since his comm badge was on the fritz. If they couldn't find an exit, they had air for a more than a week. A few years ago, he wouldn't be tense at all about it- but with a war on...

Why was his comm badge on the fritz?

Tash-tor kashek vukhut. Tash’voh kashek heh fa-wak zahal-tor vukhut.

Focus. Focus.

---

Julian had circled the building twice, passing Kuks. It was on the larger side, and even though he wasn't tired, he took a rest anyway.

He pulled his bag into his lap and flipped it open, pulling out his tricorder and clicking it on.

Well. He tried to. The tricorder screen was black. Julian squinted as he tried it a few more times.

Tash-tor kashek vukhut. Tash’voh kashek heh fa-wak zahal-tor vukhut.

This was starting to feel like too many coincidences. He'd done his pre-mission check right before the meeting, since they had to board immediately afterwards. Everything had worked fine before then.

Julian heard a tinkling noise. Confused, he looked down at his feet, then around him. He hadn't stepped or sat on anything. It was too close to be Kukalaka.

He held open his bag to put the tricorder back.

Tash-tor kashek vukhut...

Julian gagged as a horrible smell hit his nose.

He saw what made the noise. A delicate little glass vial- about the size of his finger- now broken, with a simple circuit taped to it. The circuit, it seemed, had been triggered to shatter the glass.

Julian threw the bag as far away from him as he could out of instinct.

This wasn't a matter of coincidence.

His mind went back to the other science officer. The bags.

Had someone been trying to take out the Starbase? Or- perhaps her mission, and the vial had been timed wrongly, and the opportunity to present her with failed equipment hadn't gone as planned.

He picked up the bag again, cautious, and emptied it. There was the bits of glass, a dermal regenerator, a spare phaser, a hypospray, the trauma kit, a pair of gloves, a small tool kit, and that was it. It looked like she was also a doctor.

He slid on the gloves and felt along the lining.

His heart sank as he felt a large lump and a line of stitching. He tore it open and pulled out the offending object, about the size of his palm. A mobile EMP generator.

Julian forced himself to put it down gently instead of throwing it. It was evidence. His eyes watered, and he couldn't tell if it was from the smell or not.

The atmospheric shield might still be in place. This sort of device had a limited range at this size, and there was a perimeter of breathable air outside the building. But he had no way of finding out. And whatever was in that vial meant he had no way of knowing if he'd be alive by the time everyone else had noticed something was wrong.

Julian stood up. And for the first time in a very long time, he gave into the urge to scream.

---

Kuks had come running, of course. Their emotional bond wasn't as strong- consequences, consequences- and it was easy for one of them to have growing emotions of unease that the other only perceived as vague anxiety. But the scream was undeniable.

She let Julian hold her tight to his chest for awhile, rubbing her head against his face and neck as his fingers dug into her ribcage. But eventually, it was too much, and she had to squirm away.

"I'm going to keep looking for an exit."

"Kuks-"

"Julian." If she could stamp her feet with any seriousness, she would. "We aren't dead yet. How long has it been since the vial broke?"

"22 minutes."

"We aren't showing serious symptoms yet. It could be it's not concentrated enough to kill us for another hour, or even longer, because of how big the building is. Even if it isn't, we aren't dead yet."

Julian knew she was right (of course he did- she was himself and vice versa). But he didn't feel up to it.

She sighed. "Help look when you can." And with that, she bounded off again.

Julian sat there for a few minutes before forcing himself to get up and continue the search.

Not long after that, he started feeling dizzy. Rather- Kukalaka had started feeling dizzy, as there was a vague, achy quality that told him it wasn't this body feeling it yet.

He'd gotten used to the smell, but it was already everywhere. He didn't recognize it- it was godawful, and if it had ever shown up in any of his labs, he'd never have forgotten it. It made the dizziness worse.

He kept walking, feeling along the wall panel. He remembered the map so clearly, with its single marked exit point. Even if he found another door, it'd be the same as the first. What he really needed was a weak wall panel. Something he could pry off and shoot a hole though the other side, or something of the sort.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

It was so dark, his eyes hurt. They were strained, and he was fairly certain that gas vial was indeed irritating them.

He tugged on the neck of his undershirt. The old one had a bit of stretch, and he could've pulled it over his mouth and nose by now, protected them a bit.

He was almost directly across from where the vial had broken when the dizziness intensified, and he knew this body was feeling it too.

Julian pressed a hand over his mouth, desperate not to vomit. He was fairly certain it would only make things worse.

Dakh’voh pthak. Ri nam-tor ret na’fan-kitok abi’dakh odu pthak.

He kept walking. He wondered how Garak had known he recited Vulcan mantras- that crass little dig after he'd smacked his face into a bulkhead hadn't been random. He'd never mentioned it, though others knew- what a fascinating web it would be, if you could track the flow of the station rumor mill and chart it out.

Dakh’voh pthak. Ri nam-tor ret na’fan-kitok abi’dakh odu pthak.

Next chamber.

---

His head was spinning. Surely, someone had noticed by now? Gotten bored, tried to comm him- with one or two people spared for each building, the rest securing the cache or manning the Defiant, check in was at three hours. It had been three hours- longer than, actually, but who was counting? An hour and a half since the vial broke.

He'd stopped being able to walk ten minutes ago. He'd leaned against the wall for a break, and found himself sliding down, down, down it.

He wondered if Kukalaka had found a place with clearer air to stay. Her body was smaller, more susceptible- if one went, they both would. His eyes were hard to keep open already, and he couldn't tell which body was feeling it.

He wondered if he should've left a note with the abandoned bag. The vial and EMP seemed obvious enough, but what if they weren't? What if they thought-

Julian shuddered where he laid against the wall, gripped by a strange sensation. It wasn't a wholly unpleasant one, though it was clouded by the burning that had spread all over his face. Was that a symptom of whatever was in that vial?

There was a strange calm that came with it. That was nice, at least.

Julian hummed quietly to himself.

A streak of blue crossed his vision. Then again, flapping towards him.

"Butterfly...?" He hadn't hallucinated up to this point. This was new.

The streak of blue settled above his head, and started making a terrible racket. Julian lifted his shaking hands, trying to plug his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut, giving in to the urge to close them.

He thought he heard something else, but soon after his body felt weightless and heavy at the same time.

He wondered it it felt different, depending on which body went first.

---

He was certain no one had ever thought of Dr. Bashir as small before. Perhaps his daemon, comparatively, but even that seemed silly. Size was not their typical vulnerability.

It was telling that he and Itzik has sat at their bedside for quite some time before remembering to remove their air masks.

Dr. Bashir and Kukalaka had been intubated the second they'd gotten to the Defiant's infirmary, which had made flushing their eyes with water a bit of a hassle. Once the readings of uzducine gas exposure had come up, Chief O'Brien, their chief security officer, and several others had been immediately sent down to investigate.

Garak would naturally have volunteered to go with them, but his hands were full of (metaphorical) pins and needles. He wasn't sure he'd he useful. Given the others (and he had seen the regret and anger on their faces) would not be able to visit Dr. Bashir until they were underway back to the starbase, he felt obligated to sit vigil until relieved.

He kept thinking about the feeling of soft fur against his hands and in his arms.

His hands, currently, were curled tight in his lap. He had to resist the temptation to do something troublesome. Such as slamming some fingers into a drawer. 

The Defiant had different patient scrubs, and he liked them far better. These were a light grey-green. The tube crossing over them, he did not like- it was rigid and gross, provocative, primitive, exactly the sort of thing that made Garak avoid any infirmary as much as possible.

Dr. Bashir's hand twitched, and Garak straightened his posture immediately. Those damp, sticky lashes opened slowly.

Dr. Bashir looked around, gaze still unfocused- from the ceiling to the divider curtain to Garak for a long moment, then Kukalaka. Itzik had long since found a hidden perch. He gently began petting his daemon.

Garak looked away. "As I'm sure you have guessed, you have survived an attempt on your life once more. I must congratulate you again on your strength."

Something gripped Garak's hand and tugged. He looked back down.

Dr. Bashir was pulling on him with all his strength- which, considering, even with him in such a state, was hard to resist. Garak let his hand be pulled.

Dr. Bashir pressed Garak’s hand against his cheek and closed his eyes. There was a bit of unshaven hair by his ear- stiffer than the haunting sense memory, but enough that Garak's arm trembled slightly with the effort of resisting the urge to jerk his hand away.

Dr. Bashir's other hand kept stroking over Kukalaka.

He hadn't realized yet.

Oh yes, it had been necessary- by the time he had found her, she had collapsed. The fact that Dr. Bashir was still conscious right as Garak had found him was truly impressive, under the circumstances. To ensure no transporter problems through the thick walls of the buildings, you needed a working comm badge to latch onto.

Garak still couldn't imagine, even so, that Dr. Bashir would so easily forgive Garak manhandling his very soul, holding it in his arms like a small child. And worse- hesitating to let her go when the nurse indicated she needed to be put down on the biobed for intubation.

Or that, unspeakably, he wanted to do it again, kept thinking about it. Wait until no one could see, not even her human half, and cradle her in his arms again as shockwaves of alternating revulsion and shame crashed over him alongside adoration and wonder.

Garak slid his hand away, a contrasting guilt stinging him as Dr. Bashir's eyes opened again. "The nurse will be coming by to check on you in a moment."

---

Dr. Bashir and Kukalaka still needed to be intubated for awhile by the time they returned, and had to be moved very carefully as a result. Jadzia and the Chief naturally crowded around them once they were free of their duties, even managing to find some game to play with them to distract them from the tubes.

It had been a pitiful sight to watch them be shooed out as Julian was questioned for a witness statement. To watch their faces drop into heart wrenching worry and rage again.

Garak, naturally, was not requested to aid the investigation. He, naturally, did not let this stop him from keeping abreast of the matter. Should Starfleet be derelict, he would happily pick up the slack. He was contracted personnel now, after all.

It seemed a young woman- another doctor- had heard about Julian's personal history, and decided an augment was too dangerous to be allowed to live. She rather readily admitted it; from Sisko's notes, it seemed she had expected he would agree with her.

Finding a vantage point to watch as she and her daemon were loaded onto a transport after the court martial had been difficult, but necessary. He needed to know they were off the starbase.

Garak personally saw little wrong with executions. The Federation attitude towards them was laughable- death was a mercy.

Because death was a mercy, once the guilt was sealed, he did nothing. They would simply have to suffer a nice long life inside a cell.

Sisko sought him out not long afterward, brie furrowed with suspicion. His daemon padded along beside him.

"Mr. Garak."

"Captain." Garak tilted his head. "You needn't stand, there's a spare seat."

Sisko took it, leaning one of his forearms on the table as he looked at Garak with intensity. "I'm... surprised by you."

"Mm?" Garak took a sip of his drink. "Are you? What have I done now?"

"It's what you haven't done."

Garak widened his eyes. "Why, Captain. You personally reminded me this matter was best left to you and the other ranking officers- and I must say, you handled it quite well."

Sisko closed his eyes and raised his brows for a second. "Perhaps I believe that. But from what I hear, you haven't been to see Julian and Kukalaka since we got back either, and that makes me...suspicious."

Garak was glad his species' facial expressions were normally considered harder to read beyond what they intentionally telegraphed. "Your fellow officers have kept me busy, I'm afraid. After all, I'm the only contractor of my kind that they have." Garak lowered his voice. "I heard they tried reaching out to a few others, but they all declined."

Sisko's brow eased, and he sighed.

"What?"

"Nothing. I see I had nothing to worry about- nothing that I have to make a report on, at least." Sisko stood up. "Julian and Kukalaka are being fully discharged tomorrow. Back to full duty, allowed to stay in their own quarters again. In case you find some spare time."

[ohnoanalien]

All You Need to Do Is Ask

Hi! I'm back, kind of!

I was planning to not post to keep the bots away-- but @hcdragoncat is an awesome writer, and @journey-to-the-au is awesome in general! I got inspired by this drabble based on the What If AU.

It might also be because the SEM posts are destroying me and I need some fluff, comfort, and humor (or at least, I tried). I see your ':)' and I know I'm in for a bad time. Pray for me before I strangle a myth from a 16th century book. ❤️

Regardless, thanks for being amazing writers! You're awesome!

---

"Absolutely not."

"Baije, please-- ow-- don't worry yourself. I'll be fine."

Haarini pleaded to no avail. Pushing her back down with stubborn hooves, the pig demon reached for a small bundle. All the while, Pilgrim silently picked at his meal from afar.

"Ah, but you seem to forget." Garnet eyes examined a swollen ankle, reaching for a roll of gauze. "I was once a farmhand. Injuries like these are terrible if left untreated."

"You can't just assume--" Pigsy's sharp glare met hers, cutting her thorny words at the stem.

"Tell me. How many years did you spend outside your temple, honing your survival skills?" He moved to wipe a stinging cut on her cheek. "Because I can assure you that, when you are a wanderer, pain endurance isn't a requirement."

From beside the campfire, Sha Wujing's eyes traveled from Haarini's bloodthirsty scowl to Pilgrim's endless shivering. With gentle footsteps, the demon sat down beside him, nudging him with a large shoulder.

"You're eating very slowly. Is everything alright, my friend?"

No response. The eldest disciple sniffled, rubbing a flushed nose.

"Wukong?" The monk asked again.

Ao Lie raised his head.

"Pilgrim?"

Zhu Baije and Haarini stopped their bickering. Their eldest disciple finally looked up, startling when he was met with a sea of curious eyes.

"Do I have something on my face?" The stone monkey chuckled nervously.

"Well, no." Wujing hummed to himself, "You just seem-- oh, what's the word--"

"Distracted." Tripitaka furrowed his brow from his spot under a tree. "Absent-minded. Weak."

Weak. Weak?

In an instant, Wukong's fur puffed at the accusation.

"Master, you forget that our eldest disciple can’t possibly weaken. He's immortal several times over! He's probably just cold from his little dip in the river." Zhu Baije snorted.

"He's right, Master! I'm p-perfectly..." A raspy breath hitched.

Haarini frowned, pushing herself to her feet. "Wukong, what’s going–"

A loud sneeze rumbled through the night air, fire flickering at the force of it. Dazed and confused, the pilgrims surfaced from the shock, ears still ringing. The deity's face reddened through his fur, hovering a paw over his nose. 

"Excuse me. I– snff! I need to go…patrol the area." He mumbled. And with that, the great sage was gone.

"...Should we go after him?" Wujing finally piped up.

Haarini took her time limping through the mountain path. She was insistent on checking first-- despite the group’s overflowing concerns.

"Please do not search for too long." Tripitaka guided her towards the brush that circled their little safe haven, "You might exacerbate your sprain."

"And watch for roots." Zhu Baije examined her wrappings…again. "Tripping over anything in your condition would make things much worse."

"And please be aware of your surroundings." Wujing added, hands wringing. "If a demon attacks, we wouldn't want you to fight alone. So remember to ask for help when you need it, okay?"

Haarini's eye twitched. "Anyone else want to give me advice that I already know?"

Like clockwork, the youngest disciple whinnied. The warrior threw her head back, glaring up at the moon. "Thank you Ao Lie. Very helpful."

The forest itself was much better company, lively with conversation. Owls hooted. Crickets chirped. Haaniri stepped from the dapples of moonlight into a wide meadow, its rolling garden seeming to stretch on for miles. Fireflies gracefully floated above the flowers, flickering in the dark like embers on the wind.

A coughing fit broke the peace, and Haarini couldn't help the giggle that passed her lips. The Monkey King was never one for stealth, was he? She carved her way through the tall grass and up to a familiar patch of golden fur. 

And there sat her patient, sniffling and rubbing at his face.

Haarini frowned. Was. Was he crying? Is that why he was so quiet? Is that why he refused to come near us? Is he too prideful to face his friends?

The langur paused. She steeled herself, a nimble paw reaching out to his shoulder.

And then all chaos broke loose.

The Monkey King sneezed. She screamed. He yelped. They scrambled backwards, perched on all fours and fur puffed like feral cats. For just a moment they were frozen in time, backs arched, staring wide eyed between a storm of windswept petals.

"...We’re going back." Haarini said flatly, loosening up to pick freckles of pollen from her fur.

"I’m fine."

"Wukong."

"I am! Don’t you trust your Grandpa Sun?"

The langur sighed, moving to sit beside him. "Do you know how stubborn you are?"

Wordlessly, ruby eyes traveled to her ankle. Haarini scoffed, tail blocking its view with a silver swish. "Th-that’s not the same!" She huffed, arms crossed.

"I see." Wukong wheezed out a chuckle-- which spiraled into a coughing jag. Blood boiled under his dear friend’s fur. Golden eyes narrowed. 

Fine. If the idiot wasn't going to help himself, she'd just have to do it for him.

All too suddenly Haarini hissed in pain, reaching to clutch her ankle. And as she predicted, the deity immediately leaned forward, ignoring his own state. He suppressed a shiver. She fought the urge to strangle the immortality out of him.

"Will you stop that? I said I'm fine!" Haarini grasped at his cheeks to push him away.

Her friend immediately obliged, concern weighing heavily on his drooping shoulders.

“What a terrible illness. His mind must be half-melted by now…" The patient muttered, flexing her fingers.

"What was that?"

"Oh! Sorry. Just mumbling to myself, that’s all. Being treated in the presence of a king must have rattled my nerves quite a bit." She threw a wrist over her forehead, shooting him a teasing smirk.

A snort broke the monk’s worry, and Haarini couldn't help but mirror his laughter as he sprung back to life. Wukong scooched just a little closer, emerald grass pooling at his waist. "Oh, I completely understand. After all, you are in the presence of someone so great."

As he tried to calm his giggling Haarini leaned on her elbows, scanning every inch of his body. "The long walk here hasn’t done me any favors either. Would you mind...?" She extended her leg.

Without hesitation, Wukong rolled up his sleeves.

Then cracked his knuckles.

Then cracked his neck.

Haarini raised a bushy brow.

“What?” The Monkey King sniffed, nose in the air, “I’m just preparing.” And with that, he began to message a twisted ankle.

The langur hummed, a round ear flicking absent-mindedly as she dipped lower. "You know, I was wondering. You can't swim without sinking. Why jump into a river to save me from drowning?" 

For just a second, the deity’s carefree smile bent. "Come now, you’ve traveled with me long enough! Any challenge I've faced is just flimsy kindling in my hands. This was nothing! A fluke! A bump in the road!"

Another sniffle.

"But you could have easily let Sha Wujing do the honors. Or Zhu Baije. Or a barely sturdy tree branch.” Haarini said with a sigh of irritation.

The Monkey King’s face grew hot with embarrassment, but her thoughts marched on.

"It. I just. If there's anything wrong. If...if I did something wrong--" All concerns flipped on their side as the great sage’s lower back twitched, unable to stop a pitiful whimper from slipping out.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Last chance, dumbass.

"Don't worry! Don't worry! As I said, I'm perfectly well, th-thank you." Wukong's voice crackled, and he paused to rub at an aching throat. He gazed down at the flora beneath him, feeling its soft strokes between his claws. "Don’t assume, my friend. You didn't do anything wrong. It's hard to explain. Your presence is like...sitting under the cool shade on a hot day. Or the warmth of a snowy hot spring. I feel...relief around you. And I don’t want to lose something so precious."

"Tail's not moving at all..."

"Ugh! Forget it!" The king scratched at his scalp as he turned back to his patient-- just missing the way Haarini straightened like a ruler.

"Noted.” She agreed to the unknown, one-sided conversation with every bit of false confidence that she could muster. “Before I head back to our camp and leave you be, can I ask for one more favor? It's nice and painless this time, I promise." She implored.

"Of course." Wukong smiled, looking like he was one slight twitch from passing out in a fit of pain. "Anything for you."

She gently slapped a paw to his cheek, all innocent mannerisms dropping.

"You need to lie down before your injury gets worse."

Sun Wukong blinked slowly, eyes dull and glazed over. “...Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't give me that!" Her touch moved back to his forehead, "Your fever is most likely from an infected wound, as well as exhaustion from so much moving around."

"I'm-- snff-- I'm fi--" He stumbled, rubbing his eyes to clear a dizzy spell. Haarini immediately took the chance to crawl along the king’s back, lifting his robes, and he quickly sobered with a mortified squeak.

"Just as I thought." A puffy gash trailed down his back, blood matting his ginger fur. "For gods' sake, there's still grime stuck in the damn thing!"

Surprise turned to anger, and the immortal whipped his head around. Offense and shock pierced through the langur like arrows. Nonetheless she persisted, circling The Monkey King and toeing the line that could easily yank her down to the bottom layers of Diyu.

"Oh I know your type well." She growled. A silver claw poked him over and over, forcing him to stumble backwards. "Unwilling to admit weakness, unwilling to communicate, unwilling to keep yourself safe because-- despite your strength and cunning-- you believe yourself to be perfect and flawless and never make a single mistake!"

Wukong couldn’t help but flinch in pain as his back hit a tree, pinned to the wall by a single finger.  "And of course immortality is an incredible power to wield, but it’s also completely useless if you spend an eternity unable to walk! So please, for my sake, stop pretending you're so invincible and let me help you already!"

The world paused. Fireflies danced over a pair of flushed faces. And ever-so-slowly, Haarini pulled away. 

"I'm not very good at being subtle, am I?" She moaned, pressing a palm to her head.

"Maybe a little." Wukong trilled, wincing at a searing heat that shot up his spine.

Haarini opened her mouth for another lecture– blinking in surprise when the Monkey King obediently took a seat on a nearby rock. 

"I don't suppose you brought any medicine...with..." He gasped, and Haarini’s paws flew up to her ears before they could burst.

“...ow.” Cracking a cautious eye open, Pilgrim felt a handkerchief press into his lap.

"Maybe let's start with this." Haarini chuckled, whacking his shoulder with a snowy tail. "You need it more than I do."

Her ankle throbbed. She shifted from foot to foot, snowy tail extending as she tried not to fall. But a gentle arm wrapped around her back, and a warm side pressed against her own.

For a body made of boulders, his skin was surprisingly soft.

"If I ask my master for help, will you promise to stay off your feet for a few days?" Wukong smiled sheepishly under half-soaked fabric.

A giggle brushed his ears like swaying wind chimes. 

“We really are a wreck, aren’t we? Ahahaha!” Through her wobbling Haarini returned the favor, pulling her monk ever closer. "Alright, alright. Anything for you."