#medical talk and needle talk and stuff in the following tags

[thequeervampiric]

I don't think much about my shoulder issues anymore bc trying to get them figured out didn't get me very far and they don't cause me so much pain anymore, but when I stretch both arms I feel that the left one is feeling pain and strain that the right one is not. so that's fun and cool

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood (6) - the trouble was always here - part two

pairing: biker!roman reigns , biker!cody rhodes (mentioned) warning: mentions of violence and explicit descriptions of blood. dialogue and descriptions pertaining to guns. roman talk to someone without being a jerk challenge. slight non-con moment but turns consensual quickly (its a kiss)! authors note: if ya'll ever watch sons of anarchy... you’ll know, im stealing little pieces of plot lmaooooooooo. imma give yall a spicy little flashback after this, i promise. will also attempt to not make the following chapters as long. just so that they remain relatively digestible. i'm working on being more precise with words. all the medical stuff in this chapter is half done research and my own brain. this chapter picks up where i left off in chapter 5. ALSO… if you want or dont want tags on this fic let me know! word count: 3k tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @sortudademais @gg-trini @southerngirl41 @2-muchsauce

-wednesday night. the first week in june-

that marriage of ignorance and bliss did not last long. having to suffer as a lone soldier amidst silent dinner table battles. displeasured dispositions and their eyes performing like the greatly sharpened edge of well smithed daggers. and then came compromise, toiling through the thick of it to wave it's white flag. a surrender of a promise. your mother and fathers union holding as much sanctity as a soon to die vehicle's tank, holding its last dregs of oil but whose fuel gauge reads empty. running still, a quick speed into the darkness, wheels tired and the road too coarse to bare. an abrupt end of the engine as it slips against the asphalt at full speed. a collision terribly par for the course. their rings fettered to their fingers, pretty diamond but a prison, making forever impressions upon the skin. that marriage of ignorance and bliss did not last long. dying with the useless wear of wedding rings, and redeclaring itself with the overwear of leather kuttes. 

because there was more to the life than just that simple enthusiasm for motorcycles. your father transforming before the eyes. leather slipping over his shoulders, not so dissimilar to the tough metal, shrilly chime of chainmail. custom rings taking their homes over the marred skin of his knuckles. fingers worn and always just barely healed. scarred from one brutal splitting open after another. his eyes working to harden. the keys to his bike clutched in hand. 

"should i be worried?", your mother asking right on time. examining his pace. the work in and change over of his demeanor. 

and he never answered. never dignifying her question enough to speak to it. because then the trouble would be true, so much so that it would live, breathing well to make room in their home. no. KG, your father, only ever lingered by the door, a slip in of hesitation before he turned to kiss your mother gracefully. the small appearance of a forever ago passion. an i love you without the weight of words. and then he went, heavy steps leading out the door. 

so its almost second nature. those faithful coming together of words. cody slipping on his leather near the door. shoulders squaring as the material adjusts to his body. demeanor unsoftened. the ease of the words as they leave you filling your stomach with a burdening weight. memory working tedious and so terribly true. 

"cody, should i be worried?" 

he sighs. cold blue eyes hesitating enough to take the time to commit your face to memory. his palm warm as it cradles your cheek. kissing you firmly before he leaves. 

-early friday morning. first week in june-

there was, is, and will never be a time too early or too late for violence. for blood and that faithful nerve warp of adrenaline. and maybe that's why the hospital is so easy. old, early moments in your youth, piercing your fathers skin with a needle, sewing together split skin as he washed his tongue with the burn of his favorite liquor. a warmth in his belly till the pain from the prick of your fixing turned numb. a simple pressure in the skin there at his arm, turning inevitably, to pressure in his leg, a slit at his thigh from a brawl with which he gave no further information. bruises and gashes and deep cuts to him, more by the day, by the year. near quiet grunts and the emptiness of the house loud enough to swallow you both whole. cleaning his marred skin and bandaging the area's as best you could. the slow to ease push and pull of his breaths. his hands smelling like iron as he cradled your face, mouth kissing your forehead. "thank you", but a whisper, before falling into sleep. 

maybe that's why the hospital is so easy. the color of blood and caked earth, the silver of knuckle rings and the black of over worn leather more familiar than summer green trees. 

text message | cody r: in an emergency. need your help. 

it shouldn't come as a surprise, but the sudden rush takes you all the same. a deep plunge of the heart in your chest, something odd creeping beneath the skin and fevered steps. making to call cody quickly. a ring, and then a second, before he's answering. breaths labored some as he goes. "can't say much about it but it's medical. how soon can you get to the clubhouse?" 

you assess the long hallway. the trauma unit, quiet. a squeak in your sneakers that makes you cringe as you move to collect things. only minutes from the end of your shift. "uhm, in like twenty minutes". a series of grunts and yells that indicate the messiness of a situation he's all to willing to abruptly rope you into. "cody what's going on?"

he sighs. his patience a thinning thread. "what did i say before about becoming an accessory?" 

"you gotta give me something", you stress. continuing an awfully secretive journey to where you could gather some other helpful supplies. "i can't just show up not knowing what for". 

"think the worst". 

"that doesn't help-"

the call dropping on his end. the angst sticking to your skin making room for an easy to settle in frustration. like you were an early twenty something again. attempting too diligently to remedy that divorce of ignorance and bliss. a tedious washing away and stitching together, performing so well now that the pungent smell of iron threatens to stain your skin again. and here does the soldier pay the price for wielding a double edged sword. for pensacola was home, is home, and forever will be home, the desire to return running too wild beneath the skin not to act on it. but there are things here. vicious rumblings above sunburned asphalt and the bitter steeping of blood between the cracks. the dross and the dregs that stick so loyally to the air and the skin just after a brutish performance of chaos too commonplace to live without it.

trouble taking up permanent residence, riding in over the clouds and rolling in with the heat. 

and the clubhouse looks haunted amidst the beginnings of the friday summer sunrise. the dark colored build of it dreary against the beauty of the sky. the heat yet to reach its full potential but your scrubs and the exhaustion of a twelve hour shift do all too well of making you live with that thin sheen of sweat breaking over your cheeks. your car parked not too far from the clubs neat line of stationed bikes. true in how they've always done well to remind you of the clubs presence. after so long, living here and far away, that grimy power behind the roar of an engine, ever inescapable. 

the clubhouse doors swing open as you make to leave your car. a small bag of supplies in hand as you rush up. cody's hand slipping at the low end of your back to guide you in. a small "thank you", leaving him breathy as you make way to pass through the double doors of the "church". a room that never seems to lose its luster from the looks of it. the sanctity of their meetings as important as the shine of a new chrome fender finish. men and their worried eyes flitting over your entrance as you approach the church table. seth laid out face down, with his pants at his ankles. his skin wet with sweat and an awful paleness. bloody cloths surrounding him and randy's finger lodged in where all the blood could possibly be spewing from. a small metal tin cup resting in the corner, holding the whole of a bullet. 

dean taps seth's cheek. waking him up a little less than tenderly. "look alive sweetheart, the doctor is here to see you". 

"nurse", you correct, to which dean just winks. 

cody and a host of club members file out through the double doors much to your pleasure. 

initial shock of your current state of affairs rolling off your shoulders as you settle into the routine of caring for the wound. gloves slipping on before you're tossing the box to dean. his take up of them swift and unquestioning. because it was never unusual to spend a night—especially in their youth—caring for cuts and bruises and wounds, before turning to do the same for another. a task as regular as breathing air. 

seth groans. the drawl of it stressing the pain in his leg. "i don't know if you've noticed but i went to some extreme lengths to see you", he jokes. his little laugh coarse and overworked by the weariness of getting shot. 

you laugh. an attempt to break the over work of tension in the air. "what an interesting way of saying you love me seth". sliding up to stand next to randy. his demeanor as quiet now as it was during richie's funeral. 

you look to dean. "once randy removes his finger, you're gonna help me pack the wound, and then i want you to keep pressure on it till i'm ready to wrap it". 

"you know what you're doing?", randy asks. the dark color of his eyes disrupted with little slivers of worry. 

"no randy, i just wear the scrubs for fun". peering up at the hard set of his face. older now but his visage still holding that silent menace to it.  

"can we banter when seth isn't bleeding out by the pint?", dean asks. so obviously done with the whole situation. 

"on my three", you start. the both of them coming to a shared focus. "one...two...three". 

thick blood springs upward, randy's finger dislodging quick. dean rushes in with your guidance, packing the wound as instructed. your hand taking the reins of the procedure as you allow dean a moment of reprieve. the little levee of seth's composure rupturing as his body goes taut, his mouth loose and lax as he curses his fill into the shined up wood of the church table. groaning wearily as dean holds the pressure against his legs, randy lifting it casually, allowing you to wrap the middle of his leg with a fresh dressing. a dead silent relief settling the room then after, before you're moving again. running on the extra dose of adrenaline. 

you discard your gloves, peeling them off your fingers. picking through your bag to give dean a bottle of pills. "vancomycin, it's an antibiotic", you start. "give him two now and another two later tonight. keep going with that dosage for no less than a week". 

"our lovely little savior". dean's boots heavy as he closes the distance to kiss your forehead. "thank you. go get cleaned up". 

randy gives a quieter acknowledgement. a simple nod of appreciation that does you just fine. the double doors of the church room creaky as they swing with your exit. all the worried faces you'd met upon your arrival, taking up every inch of the clubhouse. their bodies drowsy and torn through by the chaos of an oh so terrible possibility.

your feet mindless as they walk down the infamous hallway gallery of framed photos. your last walk through of the area filled with a particularly horrible play of strife. twisting the knob of one of many of the little dormitory rooms to access it's bathroom. a deep breath releasing as you make to wash your hands, a slow thorough trail up over your arms to rid your skin of seth's soon to dry blood. your scrubs somewhat ruined and your shoes showcasing nasty little streaks of red. 

but it is only exhaustion that takes you so brazenly. a sleepy sinking feeling in the body and nothing else. hands used to providing all the remedy's it can. 

well maybe not nothing else. a fast to slip in weariness amidst the quiet. because he couldn't be too far away, lurking to siphon what he could again of the air about you in a means of suffocation. that faithful ability once upon a time, a favorite of yours for how sweetly it sought to consume you, now possessing a quality that unfurls something disdainful in your belly. a prick of a man seemingly beyond reproach, what with his positioning among all the others. surely it was never your simple exit making him this mountain of hubris, that streak of his character impossible to climb and overcome for the sake of reasoning with him. or even for the lesser sake of some cordiality. it was so obviously everything else—the grime and the chaos—giving the once duller edge of his pride a sharper corner. enough to will him into an endless keep of a grudge. 

heavy thudding steps strip you clean of wandering anymore into thought. it seems even thinking of the devil causes him to appear. his disposition reminiscent of some weeks ago. shoulders squared and seeming too tall for you now to bare without feeling small. and he says nothing, attempting to take his kutte off without the inconvenience of pain but he grunts regardless. grimacing as he rids himself of his shirt as well. 

a gash running against his naked arm, almost like it's purposefully found a heap of muscle to tear into. wanting to humble the strength of him. blood caked and running down tawny skin. 

"i got grazed". 

voice tired but oddly delicate. like the weariness of it is making him just that more fragile. 

you point to the bathroom, eyes never really having the courage to part from him. "sit over there". 

and your feet rush. tunnel visioned as they make to gather whats left of your little collection of supplies. fingers feeling less sure, and your body teeming with something akin to an unworkable angst. a realization long ago understood, and buried for the sake of a then wanted peace, unearthing itself to bring about a renewed sense of understanding. for he has always been the manifestation of this double edged sword. of home and of violence. wielding itself always but never one without the other. the slip of his skin over familiar in its warmth. doing your resolve the greatest amounts of violence as you clean his wound tenderly. the double edge of him piercing so well that you feel the damning effects. his eyes sharp, cutting over your face in a silent means to examine. like the appraisal of a curious stranger attempting to settle within themselves the validity of your existence. 

the soft tender pads of your fingers remember him well. gloves and all. slight throbs that liven the nerves. 

"you came straight from work", more like a statement than a question. 

"i did". 

he flinches. his arm flexing as he bares the pain. "thank you for being here", he gives. “for seth", like a thankfulness that includes him would hurt his pride too much to be made known. 

"i'm sure that took a lot to say", you joke. feeling light in your head. drained of the will to keep up a proper guard. "you’re welcome though". 

a hum of an acknowledgment is the only thing he gives you. and in an effort to savor the easy going nature of the moment you keep yourself occupied with dressing the wound splitting his skin open. your work of caring for it doing well enough that the bleeding has stopped. memory faithful as it nags, the wound of a forever ago accident pulsing to life about your hand. the scars there still, though faded, serving as a reminder of the former things. the heat of him, then, different as it sought to consume. brazen in how it dared to bring about affection. not like now, this flame threatening to flare, to show the lengths and widths of its destruction. 

you finish. gloves in the waste basket. making tedious work of washing your hands. to rid the skin of such an indicative sensation. 

his body does well in blocking the bathroom door. the whole of him bigger than the last time you saw him. scrutiny set some in his gaze. trailing over the ink that lays permanent at your neck. 

"you still have it"

"it's a tattoo". feigning nonchalance as you dry your hands. "you never really plan to get rid of them". 

he smiles mirthless. "well y'know, i figured a cover up, for you, would be worth the pain". 

as in, forgetting him would be worth the pain. which couldn't be more further from the truth. 

"and here i am doing a nice thing", laughing tired. "still gettin hit with the bitterness", a slow easy step that leads you closer to him. the own brazen make of your actions suffering you to fall into the scent of him. the note of it strong even as it lives amidst the pungency of blood. "you got some audacity too though, considering i could've half assed that clean up enough for a little infection to settle in". 

"but you didn't".

"and why do you think so?" 

creaks against the floor. the weird pitch of it roughing up against your bones. his body closer, forcing your back against the wall. his thumb reaching to graze against the ink tattoo at your neck. pulse thrumming harshly at the play of his touch. 

body outdone by history. 

and the way he holds you here, cradling your neck just at your nape. keeping you where he wants you to be. his eyes falling over slowly—at your nose and your cheeks and your lips—lingering as if he's gone down the path of a deep remembering. 

"for the same reason you still got the ink". 

unable to ever let yourself part with it, with the history staining your skin. the prick of a needle and the pain of it made simple for a full and the most earnest performance of devotion. your breaths shallow, overwhelmed by the thought and the domineer of him. 

his thumb running to sweep at your skin. hot with an intention you can't place. 

you make to warn him. “roman-”

but his tongue is quick, works with a faraway familiar passion as it curls between the soft seam of your lips. exhaustion and adrenaline, an effortful pair as they go about the task of stripping away your resolve. a return of this sudden fever of a feeling as your tongue makes to snake against his. lapping lazily, a mindless seduction as you fall into old ways. his throat groaning, surely taken by his own bout of reminiscence. nails racking dull over his naked skin, over the taut muscle at his belly. his palms cradling your face to deepen his kiss in spite of the pain. leaving you little room to breathe, his body fastening you harshly to the bathroom wall. making to suffocate you with the flick of his tongue and the fire of his touch. 

his teeth prick you mean, biting into the supple flesh of your lip. suckling the pain with the tender pull of his mouth. 

the harshness of it causing a whimper to break. instinct taking hold. subdued in an instant. 

and it is only when he breaks for breath that you remember where you are. pushing at his tired body enough for a full separation. 

you leave saying nothing. out of the bedroom, down the hallway and through the clubhouse doors. letting the silence of it speak for you. 

lol we might need a roman pov after this huh… smh

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Infectious

TBB & Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Trouble Fitting In

Summary: You're completing your final practicum on Kamino as part of the experimental non-clone Combat Medic program. After graduating top of your class, and being inducted into the prestigious 407th Medic Unit, you get assigned to Clone Force 99. Neither of you are excited to be working together and tensions run high. However, those tensions dissipate when the Bad Batch unexpectedly falls ill while on a covert mission. Running against an unknown clock, it’s up to you to figure out what’s causing the illness before it ultimately kills you all.

Pairings: TBB & Fem!Reader

Characters: Kix, Hunter, Echo, Crosshair, Wrecker, Tech, Tungst (OC), Brett (OC), Drip (OC), Gloss (OC), Rift (OC)

Tags & Warnings: platonic, BAMF fem!reader, enemies to friends, lots of sass, humor, tension, action, angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, mild suggestive themes, explicit medical descriptions (ie: blood, bodily fluids, needles, procedures, etc), tbb whump (later chapters)

Word Count: 5.8k

Author's Notes: This chapter was so much fun to write! The gif will make sense after you read the chapter, but I couldn't help myself. No TBB whump yet, still working on the setup. I believe in strong setups that make the exciting part more rewarding. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. As always, please enjoy 💚

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

As you walk with your new squad through the halls of Kamino, you can’t help but shift your eyes to each member as they chat amongst themselves. You follow behind them, listening intently, and waiting for a moment to remind them that you’re still here, but the moment doesn’t come. The five clone brothers talk to each other as if you don’t exist, and you’re not quite sure if they are doing it on purpose or if they really are that absentminded about your presence.

You imagine this treatment is to be expected, at least a little bit. Clones are very familial and protective of each other, so attempting to fit in with an established squad is not the easiest of tasks. However, you want to show Kix that you can assimilate yourself into the most closed-off clone squadron the GAR has ever created and survive. You decide to take a less aggressive approach and see what comes of it. It isn’t the best plan, but you have to start somewhere.

When you reach their barracks, and Hunter opens the door, your nose is immediately assaulted by a pungent odor that churns your stomach. You try not to take any deep breaths as you peer into the dimly lit room. You wiggle your nose as you adjust to the smell and scan around the room. There are four bunks, each one distinguished out of the others with personal belongings and, well, junk. There’s also a hammock in the corner, and a couch across from the center table.

The group of clones walk over to their respective bunks and put their things down. You’re not sure how Wrecker sleeps in his bunk, considering the amount of garbage on it, or Tech for that matter, with all the wires and things poking out. Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks are the cleanest out the bunch, and closer to standard regulation. Which means the hammock must belong to Echo. You add notes to your squad mate's mental profiles as you continue to observe them.

However, standing alone at the entrance of their barracks and simply watching has now become very awkward for you. They all seem to have routines and you are most definitely not a part of any of them, or even have one of your own to start doing. You’re used to the barracks pods for the cadets, not a full barracks room. You wait patiently for your new commanding officer to tell you what to do or where to put your stuff, but he seems to be concerned with other things.

Unable to stand the blatant disregard of your presence any longer, you clear your throat in an attempt to gain some attention. No one seems to hear or notice you, so you try again with the same lackluster results. To these clones, ignorance must be bliss. You sigh and decide to take the direct approach as you walk over to Hunter, who is sitting on his bunk with his data-pad in hand.

“Sergeant,” you say.

“Medic,” Hunter says without looking up from what he is doing.

“Where should I put my personal belongings?” you ask.

“Wherever you want,” he answers with a dismissive wave of his fingers. He puts the data-pad down, bends over to pick up a box next to his bunk, and gets up to walk towards the table in the middle of the room.

“Understood, sir,” you say while following him to the table.

He sits down on the bench seat and places the box on the table. He pulls out his DC-17 blaster, opens the cleaning kit, and takes the contents out. “Something else?” he asks as he begins to disassemble his blaster.

You fidget with your fingers before asking the other important question. “Where is my bunk?”

Hunter puts his blaster down, turns his head to look at you, and raises an eyebrow. “Who said you were sleeping here?”

“Well, I thought–”

“You thought, now did you?” Hunter chides. “Well, think again, kid.”

“But, I’m part of the squad!” you argue. Yes, the place smells horrible, but these men are supposed to be your new family. You can’t sleep somewhere else. That doesn’t make any sense. That’s not how squad assimilation works.

“You might be part of this squad,” Hunter begins, “but that doesn’t mean I have to like you, trust you, or want you here.”

“Give her a break, Hunter,” Echo says as he walks over and sits down at the table.

Hunter rolls his eyes. “Must you always have an opinion?”

Echo rolls his eyes in return. “Must you always be so dogmatic?” Echo turns to look at you. “You can take the couch.”

“You can’t just give her the couch!” Hunter exclaims.

“Any objections?” Echo asks as he looks around the room at the three other clones.

“It will not be an issue with me,” Tech says with a shrug of his shoulders.

“As long as I get to sit on it during the day-cycle, I don’t care,” Wrecker hurls back loudly from his bunk.

“Not my problem,” Crosshair sneers as he narrows his eyes and stares into your soul.

You shiver at his cold glare, unsure of what you did to make him dislike you this much.

Echo gives Hunter an, I told you so, side eye and Hunter rolls his eyes again while crossing his arms in defeat. Echo gestures for you to make yourself comfortable on the couch, and you give him a small nod and smile as thanks. After listening to them argue over you, twice now, you’re not really sure who’s actually in charge of this squad, Hunter or Echo. However, Echo seems to be the most reasonable of the bunch and your biggest supporter, if you can even call it support.

“Get yourself settled,” Echo says. “Then we’ll hit the mess hall for some lunch.”

You do as he says and walk over to the couch. You place your duffel down next to it and sit down on one of the cushions, bouncing on it a little to feel out your new bunk. It’s a little softer than the barracks pods, which is nice, but there are no sheets, pillows, or even a blanket to be found. You look around the room to see if you can find any spares, but it’s hard to locate anything with all of the junk lying around. You surmise that you’ll have to find a pillow elsewhere.

You open your duffle and pull out a few personal items, but then quickly realize you have nowhere to put them. You look at what’s around the room and figure one of the crates can make a decent table to put your stuff on. You get up and find the closest one, pressing your full weight against it to push it over to the couch. As you begin to move the crate across the floor, you can feel their gazes shift to you. It’s like they’re waiting for you to trip or ask for help, but you don’t.

The crate proves heavier than you expect, and you wonder what is possibly inside of it. Their stares become unnerving as you push the crate into place next to the couch and you let out a small grunt with the last push. You pant softly at the exertion, but recover in a few seconds. Now that you have a place to put your things, you kneel on the ground and continue to pull your belongings out of your duffel, including a photo of you and your parents from when you were younger.

“Who’s that?” Wrecker asks as he bends over to look at the photo.

You startle at his sudden presence looming over you, but regain your composure and turn your head to look up at him. “My parents,” you say with a fond smile.

“Woah,” Wrecker says with awe. “You have parents?”

You chuckle at the innocent question. Clones are definitely fascinating people to be around. Grown in test tubes, they are motherless ten year olds stuffed into adult bodies with built-in programming to be fearless and loyal soldiers. Of course he wants to know about your parents, because he’s never had any of his own.

You sigh. “I had parents.”

“What do you mean, had?” Wrecker asks.

“They’re dead,” you say flatly while pulling more things out of your duffle.

“Oh,” Wrecker says. He straightens up and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal,” you reassure him. “They’ve been dead for a while now. That’s why I came all the way out here.” You trail the rest of your words into a soft whisper. “To find a new family.”

“Well, we don’t have parents either,” Wrecker says in an attempt to make you feel better. He grins. “You can be part of our family if you want.”

You half-smile at his kind words, but he seems to be the only one who shares the sentiment. The resounding silence and side glances after Wrecker’s remark tells you everything you need to know about your place in the squad. You sigh. You really did want a family, one that you could call your own, but it seems too far out of reach now. Hunter made it clear he’s going to keep you at arms length, and you understand the resistance, to a point, but their shunning still hurts.

“Thanks, Wrecker,” you say. “That’s a very nice offer.”

As Wrecker moves back towards his bunk, you finish pulling the rest of your things out of your duffle and place them all neatly on the crate. Happy with your little nook of a home, you plop yourself onto the couch, lean your head back, and take a deep breath. The smell of the barracks seems to be growing on you, albeit not by choice, but at least it doesn’t make you want to vomit anymore. You close your eyes and wonder if things will get better or worse from here on out.

After a couple hours of awkward silence in the barracks, it’s time for lunch. You trail behind your squad down the corridors and toward the mess hall in silence, again. They converse amongst themselves just like before, and never give you a moment to say anything or interject your own thoughts. They aren’t dull conversations either, so you listen with interest at their choice of words and the way they speak to each other, continuing to add to your mental profiles.

You sit down at the mess hall table with your squad and the silence is even worse. No talking, only eating. You pick at your food while remembering back to when you were a kid and ate meals with your parents at the table. The three of you always talked about how your days went and anything exciting that happened. You remember there was always laughter at the table. Laughter and love. Even the clone cadets had more conversations with you than these guys.

“Hey, Civvy!” Tungst calls as he approaches your table with his food tray.

Speaking of cadets. You groan at the sound of your awful name, but are happy to see a friendly face.

“You found out my name, huh?” you ask while twirling your fork around in boredom.

“News travels fast around here,” Tungst says as he sits down next to you, ignoring your squad mates who are also sitting at the table.

“Where’s the rest of the squad?” you ask as you peer around your shoulders.

“They’re coming,” Tungst says. He takes a bite. “They had a few things to finish up in the barracks.”

“Care to introduce the reg?” Hunter asks as he points with his utensil at the cadet who is clearly ignoring them. Tungst narrows his eyes at the sergeant and Hunter stares back, displaying equal animosity.

“Oh, yeah,” you feel embarrassed that you forgot to introduce him to your new squad. “Clone Force 99, meet Tungst and Tungst, meet Clone Force 99. He’s one of my friends from training.”

“Pleasure,” Tungst answers curtly.

“Is this the clone who’s anatomy you know so well?” Crosshair asks with a devious smirk from across the table.

“Cross,” Echo whispers in warning. “Don’t.”

You cough and almost choke on your food as your face turns red with mortification. Not this again. Why is this even a topic of discussion? You swear that Crosshair’s only goal in life is to make you uncomfortable. His words make you angry, however, you breathe and calm yourself. It’s not worth getting upset about and you figure that as long as you don’t feed into his antics, then the buck will stop there. You have to be the bigger person when it comes to Crosshair.

Tungst slams his fist on the table. “Care to explain what you mean by that?”

You flinch at the sudden loud noise. Oh no. He took the bait. You know this is not going to end well.

“Perhaps, I’m mistaken,” Crosshair mocks. “Maybe it was the commander instead. That’s how she became so popular, isn’t it?”

“I highly doubt the commander would trade preferential treatment for sexual favors,” Tech explains.

You can’t believe he said that. Why did he say it so loudly? You look around to see if anyone heard the scandalous remarks, but you don’t see anyone staring. However, you feel like everyone is now silently judging you. You place your head in your hands to hide your embarrassment, even though you have nothing to be embarrassed about. There were no 'favors' exchanged for your success. Everything you earned was won through blood, sweat, and tears.

Tungst shoots up from the bench seat in anger. “Don’t talk about her like that!”

“Tungst,” you gently tug on his arm, trying to get him to calm down before things escalate. “It’s okay, really. You don’t–”

“No, it’s not okay,” Tungst says as he looks down at your red face. “They’re making you sound like some sort of tramp.”

"If the stamp fits," Crosshair smirks.

Tungst scrunches his nose with indignation. “You son of a–”

“No one’s saying anything like that,” Hunter interjects as he takes a sip of his drink. “It’s just some friendly banter.”

“You rejects, have a funny way of being friendly,” Tungst scoffs.

“Are you picking a fight, reg?” Crosshair challenges as he flicks his toothpick away and stands up.

Wrecker pops up from his food tray. “Someone say fight?”

“Maybe, I am,” Tungst says. He leans over the table to get closer to Crosshair’s face. “If you don’t leave her alone, then maybe we should fight.”

“She belongs to us now,” Crosshair says with a cynical smile, reveling in the rise he’s getting out of the cadet. “We can do whatever we want with her.”

“That’s it!” Tungst yells, then jumps over the table to dive towards Crosshair.

The two clones tussle on the ground, trading blows at each other's faces and kicking each other’s torsos. A few seconds later, you see the other cadets from Tungst’s squad arrive and engage in fisticuffs with the other members of Clone Force 99. Echo, the last one still sitting at the table, rubs his fingers against his forehead and sighs before getting up and punching some poor cadet’s lights out. Soon, the entire mess hall of clones joins in on the violent festivities.

You wince as you watch the unruly sight before you, and you try to move out of the way of the flailing body parts. You are all for aggression when needed, but this massive brawl is just idiotic. You remember the stories you were told about Clone Force 99, and you know them all to be true now. You contemplate whether to join the fight or to stop it, but you’re torn between your cadet friends and your new squad. Whose side do you pick? Do you even need to choose a side?

Unfortunately, the decision is made for you when a softball sized fist collides with the right side of your face. You let out a loud feminine cry at the hit and the commotion comes to a dead stop. Everyone looks at you while you hold the side of your face as it contorts in pain. You don’t know who threw the punch, and you don’t care. You spit some blood onto the floor and lift your face up, staring dizzily at the clones in front of you until you find the one you’re looking for.

“Permission to leave, sir,” you stammer out before spitting more blood onto the floor.

Hunter looks at you with his first glimpse of real emotion and nods. “Permission granted.”

As you turn to exit the mess hall, Tungst runs after you. “Civvy, wait!”

You turn around and put up your hand to stop him. “Please, just leave me alone right now.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with slumped shoulders.

You take a deep breath and leave to return to the barracks to take care of your injury. You stop by one of the refreshers on the way back to check yourself in the mirror. Looking around, there doesn't seem to be anyone else in it. You push your stomach against the sink and lean towards the mirror, opening your mouth to get a better look. There’s not much you can see through all the blood, so you painfully swish some water around and spit it into the sink to try and clear it out.

“Want some help with that?” Kix asks while leaning against the side wall, medpack in hand.

You startle for a second, and whip your head around, but then relax when you realize it's just Kix.

“I heard about some friendly fire in the mess hall," Kix says apologetically. "You okay?"

You turn back towards the mirror and sigh. “Yeah.”

Your voice sounds like you have cotton balls stuffed in your cheeks and Kix chuckles at it. You lift yourself up to sit onto the edge of the sink counter to give him a good angle to examine your mouth. He places the medpack on the counter beside you, puts on a pair of sterile gloves, and pulls out a small light. You open your mouth as wide as you can and tilt your head side-to-side to give him the room he needs to look around.

“That’s a really nice laceration you’ve got on the inside of your cheek,” he notes as he inspects the inside of your mouth. “Must've bit it pretty hard.” He pokes around a little more and you wince as he touches it. “But, no broken or loose teeth, and no jaw dislocation, so that’s good.”

You let out a sigh of relief and adjust your jaw as Kix removes his hand from your mouth. While he throws his gloves away and opens the medpack to grab the bacta spray, you lean back against the mirror, close your eyes, and let a few tears escape. When he faces you again, to apply the bacta spray, the tears don’t go unnoticed. He puts the spray down and turns away to lean back against the counter, still looking at you through the mirror from across the refresher.

“Those aren’t tears of pain, are they?” he asks.

You shake your head and more tears come out as you lift your hands to cover your face in shame. You're a Combat Medic of the GAR. You’re a medic trained for combat. You’re not allowed to cry. You’re not allowed to show emotion. You’re not allowed to be fragile. But, the best day of your life is suddenly turning into the worst day of your life, and you’re struggling to process it. You want a repeat, a do-over, anything to keep from being in the present, so you cry.

“It’s okay,” Kix soothes, still facing away from you. “You can let it all out here with me.”

“Why?” you ask through muddled tears. “Why did you assign me to them? They want nothing to do with me!”

Kix sighs and turns back around to look you in the eyes. “You're my best medic, you know that right?”

You nod your head in agreement.

“And I need my best medic for my toughest cases, don’t I?” Kix continues.

You nod your head in agreement again.

“Well, Clone Force 99 is that toughest case," Kix explains. "I gave you this assignment because I know you’re the only one who can handle it. You’re the only one who can handle them. You’re tough, clone tough. You can play their game and win.”

You move your puffy eyes to look at him and mumble out a small, “Really?” You wonder if this is what Kix was trying to tell you after graduation, before Hunter interrupted your conversation.

“Yes, really,” Kix chuckles at your garbled speech. “I know it won’t be easy, but I need you to be exactly who you are, no more and no less. Let who you are change them, not the other way around.”

You sniffle one more time, wipe your tears away, and nod your head. Maybe this is what you need to hear. That this assignment isn’t an accident, a punishment, or a cruel joke. Maybe, just maybe, Kix is right and you are what Clone Force 99 needs. You’re a tough combat medic that takes no lip from anyone and will sass your way into their squad and force them to listen to you. You reinvigorate yourself with your thoughts and nod at Kix, this time with more sincerity.

“Good,” Kix says. “Now, let's get an icepack on that cheek of yours before you grow a second face.”

You giggle at the joke, but the stretching of your jaw muscles gives you the worst pain imaginable.

“Oops,” Kix says. “Sorry. Bacta spray first, then ice pack.”

After you finish up with Kix in the refresher, you continue your original journey to Clone Force 99’s barracks. You hold the ice pack to your cheek and ponder your conversation with Kix. He really is the best commander you could ask for and he always gives the best advice. You now feel a sense of pride in the fact that Kix entrusted you with his most difficult case. Going forward, you are determined not to let anything your new squad says or does deter you from your mission.

You make your way into the barracks and sit down on your couch-bunk. You pull out your data-pad with one hand, while holding the ice pack with the other. Being an official Combat Medic means you also have access to your squad's medical files. You think now, while you’re alone, is the best time to go through their files and learn about their individual medical needs. Clone Force 99 is full of enhanced experimental clones, so you need to pay extra attention.

You pull up Hunter’s file first and start reading.

CT-9901 Alias: Hunter - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early Adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Abnormal

Late Adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Normal

Developmental Notes: Tendency to be overstimulated

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Heightened Smell: Positive

Heightened Taste: Positive

Heightened Hearing: Positive

Heightened Touch: Positive

Heightened Awareness: Positive

Accelerated Regeneration: Negative

Genetic Notes: Ability to sense electromagnetic fields was unexpected

Medical Notice:

Prone to migraines

Prone to sinus infections

Prone to ear infections

Prone to mood swings

“Ah, so he’s not moody on purpose,” you nod as you connect a few dots and then move onto Tech’s file.

CT-9902 Alias: Tech - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for isolation and delayed speech capabilities

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased neural density: Positive

Increased neurotransmitters: Positive

Increased neural plasticity: Positive

Increased frontal lobe activity: Positive

Increased dexterity: Positive

Increased linguistics: Negative

Genetic Notes: Loss of normal vision fields was unexpected

Medical Notice:

Prone to insomnia

Prone to tension headaches

Prone to cataracts

Prone to macular degeneration

“Lovely,” you add the information to your mental notebook before moving onto Wrecker’s file.

CT-9903 Alias: Wrecker - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Abnormal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Abnormal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency to be clingy

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased muscle density: Positive

Increased muscle elasticity: Positive

Increased ligaments and tendons: Positive

Increased body mass: Positive

Increased oxygen retention: Positive

Decreased sustenance requirement: Negative

Genetic Notes: Lack of mental capacity was unexpected

Medical Notices:

Prone to joint pain

Prone to muscle spasms

Prone to arthritis

Prone to high blood pressure

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound pleasant,” you wince and swipe to the next chart.

CT-9904 Alias: Crosshair - Experimental Unit Clone Force 99

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Remarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Abnormal

Adult stage markers: Abnormal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for aggression

Genetic Mutation Progression: Normal rate of change

Increased concentration: Positive

Increased pupillary response: Positive

Increased hand/eye coordination: Positive

Increased retinal capacities: Positive

Increased agility: Positive

Increased night vision: Positive

Genetic Notes: Lack of body mass was unexpected  

Medical Notices:

Prone to photo-sensitivity

Prone to epilepsy

Prone to dry eye

Prone to cluster headaches

“No wonder he hates everyone,” you note, then swipe to the last member.

CT-1409 Alias: Echo - Domino Squad

Developmental Progression: Normal rate of change

Embryonic attachment: Unremarkable

Infancy stage markers: Normal

Early-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Puberty stage markers: Normal

Late-adolescence stage markers: Normal

Adult stage markers: Normal

Developmental Notes: Tendency for independency 

Genetic Mutations: None

*File Update - Post Skako Minor Assessment*

Cybernetic neural capacity upgrades

Cybernetic computational upgrades

Cybernetic communication upgrades

Cybernetic bilateral lower leg upgrades

Cybernetic right lower arm upgrades

Medical Notices:

Prone to joint degeneration

Prone to nerve pain

Prone to depression

Prone to night terrors

“I wouldn’t exactly call those upgrades,” you sigh, then put the data-pad down and lay back on the couch.

So this is your team. A bunch of experimental clones, plus a half-cyborg, with a plethora of medical concerns that may or may not present in the field. Although, you do feel a little closer to them now that you’ve seen their medical history and a part of you feels sorry for them. They didn’t ask to be made, let alone with these enhanced mutations.

You adjust the ice pack on your face as it gets less frozen and wipe away the condensation that drips down your cheek. You look at the chronometer and realize it’s been over two hours since the incident in the mess hall. You wonder where your squad is. Did they go elsewhere and leave you behind? Probably. No matter though. You have a renewed perspective and you’ll do your job whether they like you or not. You’ll be the biggest pain in their backside if you have to.

No sooner do you finish your last thought, does the door to the barracks open. You turn your head to look and see who it is and not surprisingly it’s your squad. They each disperse to their bunks and grab their packs. Curious about their movements, you sit up on the couch and crisscross your legs, still holding the ice pack in place.

“What’s going on?” you ask. Your voice is still garbled from the swelling.

Hunter connects his pack onto his backplate and glances over his shoulder. “We’ve got a new mission and we’re heading out.”

Your heart races at the prospect of your first mission. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t think it would be this soon. You’ve barely had any time to adjust to your new squad or go through any practice simulations. They don’t know you and you don’t know them. Your anxiety increases, but quickly dissipates when your training kicks in. This is what you are trained for, and you’re going to do it. You put the ice pack down and grab your pack and helmet to join them.

As you follow them out, Hunter turns around and stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“On the mission, sir,” you say. You let Kix’s words echo in your mind and refuse to back down.

“No, you’re not,” Hunter says.

“With all due respect, sir, I am,” you say.

Hunter huffs. “And why should I let you come?”

“Because, I’m the best, sir,” you say as you straighten your shoulders.

“That remains to be seen,” Hunter retorts.

“You can’t see if I’m left behind, now can you, sir?” you argue while placing your hands on your hips.

Echo tries to hide a snort. “She has you there.”

“Glad to hear you’re volunteering,” Hunter says sarcastically. “You’re in charge of the kid.”

“What?” Echo questions with disgust. “Why me? I’m not babysitting her.”

“I’ve told you before,” you huff. “I can take care of myself!”

“Shut it, shiny,” Hunter exclaims.

You cross your arms and scrunch your nose.

“I’ve got my own weight to pull!” Echo continues to argue.

Hunter pats Echo’s shoulder and smiles smugly. “And now you can pull hers, too,” he says while pointing at you. “Since you obviously have enough time to make jokes.”

“But–"

“Just make sure she doesn’t die,” Hunter says with a wave of his hand as he starts walking away.

Echo looks at you and sighs. “Come on.”

You quickly follow Echo, your new chaperone, and head off with the rest of the group towards the landing platform. The walk is once again, silent. Maybe the third time's the charm and after this mission they’ll start including you in their conversations. However, you don’t hold your breath that it will be the case. You’ll be lucky to get any action worth talking about, considering that Clone Force 99 has never had a downed man on the field in their tenure as a squad.

On your way to the platform, you are intercepted by Tungst and his squad mates. You brace for the worst and hope for the best, since you’re not sure what the outcome of the mess hall fight was. You’re still a little mad at him for causing such a big scene, but you don’t blame him for your injury. You may never find out who threw the punch, but it doesn’t matter. You’re just happy the five of them are still alive after the altercation with one of the deadliest forces in the GAR.

“I heard you were shipping out on your first mission,” Tungst says as he approaches, his words sounding a little awkward.

It makes sense. The last time you both spoke was after the punch, so you haven’t had a moment to debrief. You stop to speak with them and the rest of your squad surprisingly stops with you.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small smile. “I guess I am.”

“We’re gonna to miss you,” Brett says while patting your shoulder.

Hunter rolls his eyes.

You chuckle. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“You’re going to do great out there,” Gloss smiles.

Drip grabs your shoulders and pulls your face really close to his and speaks with a straight face. “Don’t die.”

You start laughing and push him backwards. “I won’t.”

“You better not,” Rift jests as he points towards Clone Force 99. “Or we’ll have to beat up your squad again.”

Wrecker laughs. “You lost the first time!”

Tungst clears his throat to change the subject. “We just wanted to see you off and remind you that we’ll always be here for you if you need us.”

You smile at the sweet gesture and wrap your arms around Tungst to wish him goodbye. “Thank you for everything.”

Crosshair leans towards Echo and whispers. “You can’t tell me they haven't kriffed yet.”

Echo groans and whispers back. “Please keep your comments to yourself.”

“Can we go now?” Hunter asks impatiently.

Realizing that you are holding up the rest of your squad, you let go of Tungst and follow after them. You turn around and wave goodbye to your cadet friends one last time and they wave back. You are going to miss them. They are the closest thing you have to a family and you’re leaving them. It feels bittersweet, since they may not be there when you come back. They will eventually graduate from cadet training, get their own assignments, and leave you behind.

You let the intrusive thoughts dissipate from your mind and refocus on your current mission. You smile as you walk aboard the Marauder. The only ship you’ve ever been on was the transport that brought you to Kamino one cycle ago. So, this is the first time being on an Omnicron-class attack shuttle. You read up on it during your training, but to see it in real life is amazing. You swivel your head as you look around the ship and take in all the different elements.

“Strap in for take-off,” Tech says as he sits in the pilot seat and gets the ship ready.

Echo sits in the co-pilot chair and also works to get you off the ground. Hunter sits in one of the open swivel chairs and Crosshair grabs the other. Wrecker sets himself up by the gunner’s nest and gives you a reassuring smile. Looking around for a place to sit, you take your go-pack off and strap yourself into one of the jump seats across from the bunk rack. You’re a little nervous, but feel more excited to be out on your first mission.

You feel the rumble of the engines and slight lift as the ship takes off from the platform. This is it. You’re finally going on a mission. You’re finally going to save lives, just like you posthumously promised your parents. You lean your head back against the cold wall of the ship and take a deep breath. You’re ready. You’re ready for anything your squad or the battlefield can throw at you. You’re going to show them that you are the best and you’re going to make Kix proud.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @bethtizda @skippyhopperwisdom @drafthorsemath

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

[cee-grice]

OC Deep Dive Tag

I haven't done a tag game in foreverrrr (gonna need to clear out the backlog eventually), and thought I'd hit it off again with this one:D got tagged by @pandoras-comment-box, thank you!! you can check out their post here

Rules: answer the following questions for your OCs

going with the main ones, Quil and Endra (I keep wanting to say Endra and Quil, as if Endra's the protagonist, and I think that sums up my favoritism well)

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Quil: the ocean. also space. there's something about the vast unknown that's fucking terrifying y'know (I get him)

Endra: needles and other sharp objects (doctors hate him! (except Quil:) ))

Do they have any pet peeves?

Quil: too many to count 😭 mostly social things, though - he especially has a thing about improper manners (assuming the person Is aware of proper manners)

Endra: being treated as immature (he is, in fact, immature)

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Quil: too many books... ink bottles... plates (because eating in the kitchen is for losers!)

Endra: piano, cat (does that count as an item??), drawings

What do they notice first in a person?

Quil: this is setting-specific, but whether or not they have visible magical mutations, then their fashion (this informs him of their culture and thus expected social etiquette)

Endra: their facial expressions/body language (to see how friendly they seem)

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Quil: 10/10, dude could walk off a bullet wound

Endra: like a solid 5/10

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Quil: depends on the pressure! normally, fight mode, but if it's related to his Trauma, then flight (or freeze) all the way babey

Endra: fight fight fight

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Both are an only child, actually! Quil's parents wanted more, but he required so much attention because of medical stuff that they just couldn't afford to, and Endra was an accident lol

Quil used to be very close with his parents, but, well. shit happened lmfao. and Endra absolutely despises his mother ahaha (but would like his own family someday!)

What animal represents them best?

Quil: a snake (but not in the stereotypical 'grrr he's a snake' way! snakes deserve better>:()

Endra: puppy :) (he'd hate that)

What is a smell that they dislike?

Quil: the smell of dye

Endra: nothing in particular

Have they broken any bones?

Quil: he's shattered bones beyond recognition, does that count

Endra: probably lol

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Quil: so polite! so helpful! what a charming young man, not sure what everyone's on about, calling him a 'menace' ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Endra: kind of quiet and reserved at first, but once comfortable, way too excitable and talkative, I should probably be annoyed but I'm unwillingly endeared by his enthusiasm

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Quil: sleep is for the weak <3 (so...both.)

Endra: he'll be the first out and the last up

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

(I actually wrote about this one lol)

Quil: he avoids anything sweet like the plague, and loves to oversalt everything (it's borderline inedible to others, and his heart will definitely not thank him for it)

Endra: he doesn't hate anything in particular, and baked apples <3

Do they have any hobbies?

Quil: he actually really enjoys reading fairytales, but he's pretty much obsessed with biochemistry, so that's what most of his time goes into lol

Endra: playing the piano!:) and drawing:) and traveling (that's a new one)

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Quil: he'd be frazzled for a second, but then he'd snap into the expected role (that'd also be his reminder that it's his birthday)

Endra: he'd be delighted (but only if there weren't too many people present)

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Quil: jewelry is big where he's from, and he's into it, too. he usually opts for more discreet and delicate stuff, though

Endra: he wouldn't go out of his way to get/wear it, but if it was a gift, he would

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Quil: very neat, but in the over-practiced way

Endra: um. um. hard to say, because he doesn't know how to write ahaha

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Quil: reaaaally depends which timeline we're in (pre-death or post-death). in pre-death, endearment and determination. in post-death, anxiety and stress and panic and anxiety (you try to remain calm post your own death :|)

Endra: excitement and paranoia

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Quil: probably silk tbh (yeah, he's that kind of person)

Endra: linen 🔛🔝

What kind of accent do they have?

Quil: in the text, I describe it as 'lilting and honeyed'. in terms of speaking mannerisms, he somewhat adapts to his company, but usually it's quite proper and 'clinical', always impeccably polite (unless you've slighted him, then he'll go for the fucking jugular)

Endra: warm and soft, but if he were to speak in a different language, he'd sound kind of rough. he speaks quicker than thinks, so he often cuts himself off and restarts lol. tends to ramble (especially when stressed)

softly tagging @mrbexwrites, @sam-glade, @rodentwrites, @raevenlywrites, @eccaiia, @amaiguri and anyone else who'd want to!

What uncommon/common fear do they have? Do they have any pet peeves? What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom? What do they notice first in a person? On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance? Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Do they come from a big family/are they a family person? What animal represents them best? What is a smell that they dislike? Have they broken any bones? How would a stranger likely describe them? Are they a night owl or a morning bird? What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Do they have any hobbies? Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? Do they like to wear jewelry? Do they have neat or messy handwriting? What are the two emotions they feel the most? Do they have a favorite fabric? What kind of accent do they have?

[the-deer-doctor]

✧ Let's get this over with... ✧

Greetings, my name is Medkit and I hail from Lost Temple... I really don't WANT to be here... But my friend Rocket decided that he thinks I needed some way to "socialize with other demons" and made me make this account... He's lucky I favor him. And I prefer to be called "Medkit" instead of "doctor", so please make sure you remember that, okay?

♢ My rules, please respect them. -> You may ask me inappropriate questions, but I have the right to not answer if I wish to. -> Be respectful. That is all. -> I have full rights to block you if I see fit, don't test me. -> There'll be medical themes unfortunately... If you are sensitive to that, please refrain from following me. -> This'll be all for now, please don't make me add more. Okay?

OOC Stuff: -> I swear you guys must be bored of me making these parody accounts by now!!!! Like ugh!!!! James STOP but no, no I won't. [Okay this might genuinely be my last one LMAO] -> Windy making himself a self indulgent Medkit blog bc he kins this deer fucker tooo much haha! I love this middle aged man. -> All rules on my previous blogd apply to this one as well! Don't forget! -> I'll have a lot of my personal hcs for Medkit on here hehe. -> Everyone's welcomed! Canon, ocs, au versions. C'mon and talk to the doc! -> All medical triggers [Like needles, blood, etc etc, will be tagged as appropriately as possible!] -> Icon: @/aresontherun -> Lore/HCs post: Here -> IC answers will be in GREEN -> OOC answers will be COLORLESS -> Enjoy :D

Temp ref:

[erodedlight]

WAKE ME UP!

#ERODEDLIGHT. // smiling, i hound despair to the brink.

semi - independent & mutuals only post - kh3 & mid - ffxv inspired oc, set in a dnd 5e + gestalt setting. grey horror + existentialism themes.

important notes:

hc#1: light bringer

hc#2: arthur pendraco

hc#3: favorite color

hc#4: to know vs to understand (tbu)

hc#5: devilblooded

hc#6: stigma

hc#7: heartbeat (please read)

hc#8: vivian highwind. & #9: simon aligan. (important)

creds. - cafekitsune (dividers) - destinyfaces (psd) - kenzeren (ban. & promo.)

some important rules that couldn't go on the carrd:

no godmodding. moving the story along with minor assumptions is fine by me, but major actions and thought processes i'd rather if you left up to me or at least asked how my character would think.

most of my icons are from ai generated images using only my own art. if this bothers you, then i don't know how well we can write together, as i literally subject My Own Stuff to the generations only.

lex's main universe is still under construction, and a lot of things could happen between sessions. currently, it's a very fast-ish start and a slow learning curve, so things may not change immediately. however, when they start to change, it will change wildly and at a fast pace. yay, dnd.

this blog features dark topics, such as child labor, child abuse, xenophobia ("fear" of the other), murder, death, and dealing with grief you didn't know you had. this blog will be mostly silly, but delving into their backstory and talking to them extensively will earn you the tragic backstory rights and civilities.

i am 23 years old and am a veteran of the bigger name fandoms of recent years, so i don't have energy for a lot these days. if you don't want to be here, that's fine, it's not a requirement. i'm here for fun and games and learning from others' writing styles.

please tag all the following as ren dont look or by __ tw. spiders, needles, medical malpractice, sacrificial knives, sacrificial imagery, insects, floristpyre (url), infernalpursuit (url), sexual assault, assault, rape, csa, loud noises

even if you have multiple languages under your belt, which i commend ya for, please have legibility and basic grammar when doing replies for me.

minor addition 1: his main verse is set 400 years AFTER the end of kh3 (current game year is 2419). themes from kh4 will be included when they're released in full, but the story will not be.

[freeusepet]

about bug!

21. any/it pronouns. genderqueer femme partnered non-monogamous slut. vers switch, with a sub lean. butch bait. heavily t4t ⚧️

DNI minors & cis/hets. i’d rather you not follow if you’re over 40.

@hexingvibes old/other blog

@dyke-o-rama is many things: my daddy, my babygirl, my perpetrator, my pet piggy, my owner - but above all, my wonderful girlfriend. his tag is 🌈

kinks & limits under cut

into: lots! main kinks being d/s dynamics, bondage, shibari, praise, degradation, humiliation, bullying, impact, sadomasochism, dollification, objectification, pet play (im a pup, bug, bunny, lamb/deer, and just an ambiguous critter), cnc (incl. rape play, kidnapping, stockholm, stalker, snuff), leather, omo/bladder control, anal, cock-warming, teasing & denial, overstim, teratophilia, bratting, human furniture, dumbification, primal play, corruption, dirty talk, gender & orientation play (usually not detrans or heterosexuality focused), ageplay, free use, gloves, mommy/daddy titles, knife play, blood play

want to try, into in theory: wax play, knife play with skin breaking, hypno, sensory deprivation, chastity devices

soft limits (would do with a trusted partner or unsure of): breeding, oviposition, medical play, hierophilia, somno, watersports, fauxcest, intox

hard limits: guns, intense gore, emeto, real non-con, bestiality, scat, needles, pregnancy

boundaries: if you’re under 35 and not cis, feel free to send ask & flirt! some light pet names are fine, ask before engaging in any kink stuff. mutuals can ask for my main, or other social media if we’ve chatted a bit

[freebajor]

Hey followers it's been a while, what do you want me to tag (like triggers-wise?)

I try remember to tag:

Food - for pictures of food

Food mention - for text mentioning food

Needles

Medical mention - talking about medical stuff

Animal death - I don't post pictures of animal death this is for text mentioning a death of an animal

Alcohol mention

Alcohol

Drugs

Drug mention

Negative - like serious self deprecating or talks about depression/mental health stuff

Donations - for posts asking for money

[raibebe]

Of needles and seduction

Genre: Fluff and smut Words: 15.2k Prompt: Johnny tattoo shop AU featuring best friends Yangyang and Jaemin Warnings: contains smut, Daddy-kink, size-kink, mentions of mirror-sex

A/N: This is very self-indulgent, I’m sorry. While I do have piercings myself, I know next to nothing about tattoos, so I’m sorry if anything is inaccurate. Also I don’t advise what some characters in this are doing for yourself. Just a quick special thanks to @burtonized​ who has listened to me ramble about this story and Johnny and helped me write this by giving me ideas and support. Thank you darling! This fic is a beast, I have never written anything this long,it’s insane. If smut isn’t for you, you can stop reading after the phone call and still have a pretty decent story. If you feel like, you’ve seen this post before, you might have. I deleted the original one because tumblr decided to delete it from the tags.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked for what you felt was the tenth time in the past five minutes. “It’s going to be fine. The shop is clean and sanitary,” your friend Yangyang groaned while running his hands through his messy, blonde hair. It was getting way too long, hanging low into his eyes. “I’m just saying that this doesn’t seem like a safe place,” you mumbled but followed your hyper friend through a more than dubious looking side street of Itaewon. “Jaemin got his piercings done in the same shop and those healed just fine, stop being a baby,” the blonde said while rolling his eyes. He quickly checked his phone for the address of the (probably illegal) piercing and tattoo shop and took a sharp turn into an even shadier looking street. “I still don’t get while you need me to come with you when you want to get your nipples pierced for god knows what of a stupid reason.” “It’s easy,” Yangyang grinned at you, “Ten said I wouldn’t dare to do it. And I’m going to prove him wrong and you’re going to document the progress.” “Do you ever listen to yourself talk? You’re literally paying someone to stab you into your nipples to shove a piece of metal through it just to prove a point.” “It’s just one nipple though.” “How does that make it any better, Yangyang?” You deadpanned. Your friend groaned again. “I knew I should have taken Guanheng with me. He would have been supportive.” “He would also be supportive of getting ‘I love Tacos’ tattooed on your ass.” “He would,” Yangyang agreed with an exaggerated dreamy look on his face. “What a madlad.”

You sighed but couldn’t help smiling at his antics. You had befriended the hyper exchange student when you had been assigned to be partners for a group project for your mandarin class. Yangyang had only taken the class for extra credit and easy good grades while you were struggling like crazy and had seriously questioned all your life choices that had let to you taking the class. (But mostly you regretted listening to Renjun who had convinced you it would be an easy class.) The group project turned out to be rather easy when you had a native speaker as your partner and you had become fond of the younger student, staying in touch with him and helping him find his way around the big campus. If you had known that he was a package deal with a bunch of other equally hyper and questionably crazy exchange students, you might have thought a little longer about keeping in touch after the project was over. But who were you kidding, the other boys and Yangyang were incredibly dear to you and if Kun had his regular morning coffee, the others weren’t even that chaotic.

“That’s it,” Yangyang suddenly exclaimed, pointing at a small beat up looking wooden door that looked like it was ready to fall out of the doorway any second. But a little green neon sign that hang next to it flashed the word “open” onto the street indicating that a shop must be hiding behind it. Your arguably best friend quickly grabbed your hand as if he had been sensing that you were about to complain again and dragged you into the shop. A little bell jingled quietly when Yangyang closed the door behind you two. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves (hell you weren’t even the one to get stabbed with a needle) and took a look around the small room. It was small and poorly lit and every free space on the walls was plastered with drawings and photos of both freshly done and healed tattoos. You had to admit that whoever had done those had done a good job, they looked really neat. You guessed that at least two artists must be working in the shop. A good portion of the art were very neat black and white works (some looking freakishly realistic) while others were very vibrant and artistic.

With a confident bounce in his step, Yangyang went up to the counter to a man with wild bubblegum pink hair wearing a black tank top that showed off the ink on his arms and torso, all kept in black except for a deep red rose on the side of his neck. His eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, making them seem like dark bottomless orbs, and they were fixed to the screen of a laptop that was covered in stickers that were a wild mixture of cute characters and various rock and hip-hop bands. “And what brings you here?” The man asked with a surprisingly deep voice, turning his head towards your friend. “A friend of mine told me I could get pierced here,” Yangyang spoke, his hands fumbling with the loose threads of his sweater. “And if that was the case, what would you want to get pierced?” “My nipple.” At that the other man raised one of his perfectly arched eyebrows. “People usually start off with getting an earring or something.” “Go hard or go home,” Yangyang grinned, making the other man snort. “If you have 70.000 Won in cash, I can look if one of the piercers is free.” When your friend got out his worn wallet and put a couple of bills onto the counter, the other man smiled for the first time. It didn’t quite fit his whole dark punk aesthetic but you couldn’t deny that he was really good looking.

“Don’t run away now kiddo, I’ll see if someone is free,” he grinned, “I’m Taeyong by the way.” When he disappeared behind a curtain made out of pearls into the back, Yangyang turned towards you with the biggest smile on his face. “I told you it was going to be fine.” You just hummed nonchalantly, still not entirely supportive of the whole idea. “One of the guys is ready in a bit,” Taeyong said when he came back to the main room. “Are you getting anything?” He asked, looking at you. “Oh no, she’s a scaredy-cat, just here for moral support and to document that I actually did it,” your friend answered for you. Your face immediately heated up under the intense gaze of the pink haired tattoo artist. “Too bad,” he just shrugged. “So technically you need to sign stuff for legal issues and whatnot. But since this place doesn’t exactly exist on records, we’re skipping that part. You’re not on drugs or any meds, right?” “I’m not,” Yangyang shook his head, making his hair flop back into his face. “Any issues with fainting or other medical conditions?”   “Nope.”   “Great. Had a good meal before coming here?” “I had breakfast,” Yangyang shrugged. “You had a slice of cold pizza from yesterday,” you groaned. “That I ate in the morning, therefore it’s breakfast,” he argued. “Well in that case,” Taeyong interrupted your bickering and threw a granola bar into Yangyang’s hands, “Eat that and let your girlfriend treat you to some proper food afterwards.” Before the blonde could deny anything, you had already opened your mouth to tell the other man that in fact you weren’t dating.

“Sure, sorry for assuming,” he shrugged and sat back behind the counter, taking out an iPad and began drawing something, probably a tattoo design. “Nervous yet?” You asked Yangyang who was uncharacteristically quiet while munching on the granola bar. “Shit, I’m really doing this,” he replied, exhaling shakily. “You don’t actually have to, Yangyang,” you tried to comfort him. “And let Ten just get away like that? No way. I am doing this. I’m not his little baby Yangyang anymore,” he said like the stubborn child he was. You could just sigh and roll your eyes at him. “He might have just been joking, you know?” “One does not simply challenge Liu Yangyang like that and not expect consequences.” “Kun is going to actually flip and pop a vein,” you tried to reason with your friend for a last time. Kun was doing a lot of coordination work for the exchange students with a Chinese background and had taken on almost a fatherly role for the younger students that hadn’t been in Korea for long. And even though Ten wasn’t even that much younger than Kun, he almost lost his otherwise calm composure when the Thai boy had announced that he successfully had pierced his ear by himself yet again after he had convinced a poor med student to smuggle some equipment for him. And from there the situation had somehow escalated into Ten daring Yangyang to get a nipple piercing. “Well he can’t do anything about it once it’s done. We’ll just make sure he’s with someone who can call an ambulance if he ends up having an aneurism.”

“Someone still wants their nipple pierced?” A new voice interrupted your conversation and a tall man with dark inky hair came into the room, making the pearls of the curtain clink against each other. One side of his head was shaved while the longer hair on the other side framed his handsome face beautifully. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt paired with ripped jeans with almost as many holes as there was fabric that hugged his long legs perfectly, showing that he had also ink on his legs. From his lobe dangled a little silver chain and of course his arms were covered in intricate designs, one arm strictly black ink while the other sported some colorful pieces as well. In the center of his plush lower lip sat a black ring and just beneath his left eye two little silver balls were reflecting the low light. You couldn’t deny that the man looked absolutely stunning despite his unusual appearance.

“Yes, me,” Yangyang eagerly answered the man’s question and walked towards him, tugging you with him. “Too bad,” the piercer grinned cheekily and winked in your direction, making your heart flutter in your chest and heat rise to your face, before he extended a big hand to shake Yangyang’s much smaller one. “I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself before leading you both into a smaller room in the back with a simple black padded bench in the middle of the room and a desk tucked into a corner. The walls were plastered with art and photos like the main room, showing that Johnny apparently was able to pull off a bunch of different tattoo styles. He seemed to have a thing for florals and roses though. The only free space was taken up by a full body mirror at the opposite wall. Johnny sat down on the little stool that was standing by the desk and motioned for Yangyang to sit on the bench while you sat down in the only other chair in the room, made of worn looking black leather.

“Let me see your chest before we start this whole thing,” Johnny spoke to your friend after he had grabbed a pair of silver framed glasses that sat low on his elegant nose and slipped on a fresh pair of black gloves. With only slightly trembling hands, Yangyang pulled his sweater over his head, keeping his hands buried in the fabric. “Looks good to me. Left or right one?” “Ehrm, I haven’t really thought about it,” he confessed. Johnny chuckled. “Spontaneous decision to get your nipple pierced?” “He does it to prove a point to a friend,” you supplied before Yangyang had the chance to answer. “Seems like a valid reason,” the tattoo artist grinned, “You play guitar or anything where the strap could irritate the new piercing?” “Just the violin,” Yangyang supplied, demonstrating how he would hold his instrument. “Then I’d suggest we go for the left one,” Johnny concluded, grabbing a bunch of stuff he needed. “Is it going to hurt badly?” “No idea, mine aren’t pierced.” “The first one is fine,” another voice chimed into the conversation and a pink mess of hair appeared in the doorway. “My client is there and Jaehyun isn’t back from his break yet, have an open ear for the door.” Johnny just hummed but it seemed enough to satisfy Taeyong who disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.

“You ready?” Johnny asked one last time. Yangyang took a deep but shaky breath and nodded. “You better film this so Ten knows it’s real,” he said, holding out his phone towards you. Rolling your eyes, you got up from your actually really comfortable chair and took the phone from your best friend’s hands while Johnny disinfected Yangyang’s nipple and drew two little circles where the bar would go through it before grabbing a small mirror to show him. “Let’s do this,” your best friend nodded and you pressed record. “It’ll be quick,” Johnny promised, disinfecting one last time before he grabbed a pair of tongs to hold the nipple in place and freed a needle from a foil package. “I’ll count to three and then I’ll start, alright?” “A-Alright.” “Last time to chicken out.” “No, I’m doing this,” Yangyang gritted out, closing his eyes. After that everything happened really fast: Johnny counted to three and steadily pushed the needle through Yangyang’s nipple, who bit his lip hard. He then let the needle dangle from the nipple while freeing a little barbell from another foil package to insert it through the canal he just had made. “And that’s it,” he announced when he secured the little balls on either side of the barbell. You ended the recording when Yangyang left out the breath he had been holding in. “Now no sports, especially no swimming or sexual activities for a while. Clean it well and don’t worry if it gets sore, that’s normal. It can take a while to heal, so be patient and don’t let it get infected. You can get a smaller barbell or a ring once it’s healed. Just come back to get it changed to be safe.” “Fuck I really did that,” Yangyang cursed and looked down to his chest, “I think I need a minute before I can get up.”

“Take your time, I don’t have any clients for another half an hour,” Johnny reassured him, putting the used materials into the trash. “Just please don’t vomit all over the floor or hit your head while fainting.” “That has happened before?” You asked, eyes wide. “Not on me but it’s not unheard of. You sure you don’t want anything?” he asked, turning towards you. His silver framed glasses had slid down his nose a little and you couldn’t deny that the man looked really hot, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “She’s too scared,” Yangyang teased. He couldn’t feel too bad if he still could do that then. “Too bad, I think you would really suit a little conch or something,” the piercer motioned around his own ear to indicate what piercing he meant. “A conch?” You asked, turning towards the mirror to try to imagine it. “Wait let me show you.” Johnny quickly got up to search through the drawers of his desk before he pulled out a little box with a bunch of jewelry, grabbing a small hoop. He stood behind you in front of the mirror. “Hold still for me,” he breathed and bend down to push your hair behind your ear before he carefully put the fake piercing in place. For a moment you could swear that time had stopped. You felt his breath fanning over your skin gently and could smell the intoxicating smell of his cologne. You were so close to each other, you were sure that if you turned your head, your noses would brush against each other. But before you could do anything stupid, Johnny pulled back and gently turned your head so you could see the little silver ring. “I think I could put an even smaller one if you wanted,” he said, watching you through the mirror with an intense gaze from his dark eyes. “I’ve never thought about getting a piercing,” you admitted shyly. While you did get your lobes pierced when you were a child, you never thought of it much. “It looks good. Not so much like daddy’s good girl anymore,” the piercer grinned. You almost choked on air when the words left his plush lips, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks.

“How much?” “For you I’ll do it for free, darling,” he grinned, running a hand through his thick dark hair, making his muscles shift beneath his inked skin. While your brain was still short-circuiting from the nickname, Yangyang seemed to be back to 100%, destroying whatever the atmosphere between you and the tattoo artist just was. “Are you really going to say no to a free piercing, dude?” You could just groan and roll your eyes at your best friend. “Stop calling me dude, Yangyang.” “Only if you get that piercing.” “That’s blackmailing.” “Just do it, it won’t even hurt right?” “It’s just a bit of pressure,” Johnny assured you, his lips curled into a smile. “I can always take it out if I don’t end up liking it,” you thought out aloud. “The beauty of temporary body modifications,” Johnny sighed before he stepped in front of you to take the fake piercing off again. With his face so close to yours again, your eyes traveled over the little silver balls beneath his left eye, over his elegant nose down to the black ring in his lower lip and you briefly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. “So what will it be?” You looked over to your best friend who had put his hoodie back on and nodded his head enthusiastically, making his fluffy hair flop into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you decided. “That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny grinned and moved to get his stuff ready. “Need me to hold your hand?” Yangyang grinned when you took his place on the bench. “I wouldn’t want to contaminate you with girl germs,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some girl germs if they’re coming from such a pretty girl,” Johnny cut in when he rolled back over on his stool, his glasses pushed back up his nose again. You couldn’t even fight the heat that crept onto your face at his words, he sure could feel it radiating off your cheeks from where his gloved hands were touching your skin. “I’ll do it where I placed the fake one, just with a smaller ring, alright?” He spoke softly when he disinfected your ear. You could just nod, anxiety taking over, making your heart race and skin prickle. When you heard the plastic bag that held the sterile needle rip, you pressed your eyes shut and balled your hands to fists. “Take a deep breath for me, doll,” Johnny mumbled, gently caressing your skin where he had grabbed your face to stabilize you. “In and out.” You shakily did as he asked you, his low voice comforting and calming your anxiety a lot. “Now you breathe in and let me count to three, then you gently release that breath. Can you do that for me, darling?” “Yeah,” you breathed, eyes still closed so you missed the soft smile on Johnny’s face. “Alright, deep breath in. One, two, three,” the pain of the needle piercing through your skin made you clench your fists harder, “And breathe out.” You tried your best to release the breath evenly until the pressure of the needle was just a low thudding. “You’re doing great, darling,” the handsome piercer reassured you, “I’ll just push the ring through and we’re all done here. Take another breath for me.” This time the feeling wasn’t as painful, just a really uncomfortable feeling of pressure. “All done, pretty,” Johnny concluded, clicking the ring closed. “Open your eyes.”

When you did open your eyes again, he held the little hand mirror from before in his still gloved hands so you could see the little ring that sat against your ear now. The skin was a bright red and you could feel your pulse throb around the metal but it actually fit the shape of your ear really nicely. “Thank you,” you smiled at Johnny. “It’s been a pleasure,” he winked before gathering the used needle and tissues to throw them away. “Take good care of it and try to not sleep on that side for a couple of nights and it will be healed in no time.” “Let’s go home, big baby,” Yangyang chirped in, already on his feet to leave the room. “I’m starving.” “There’s a good ramen shop a little up the street, not too expensive either,” Johnny recommended.

“Thanks for the piercings, man,” your best friend thanked the artist when he took you back to the main room. “No big deal,” Johnny shrugged and sat down where Taeyong had sat before, putting his long legs up on the counter. “Well, have a nice day, maybe we’ll come back for more some time,” Yangyang grinned, opening the door to leave the shop. “Oh I’m sure you will,” the artist replied, locking eyes with you before winking. “Take good care of that piercing, doll. You know where you have to come to if you want more.” You nodded shyly before bowing to the man. “Thank you, Johnny.” “I’ll see you again,” it wasn’t a question. Somehow you and him both knew that this wouldn’t be the last time you would step into the shady tattoo shop.

The next time that you found yourself in the shady streets of Itaewon came faster than you had thought. This time you were accompanying Jaemin to his tattoo appointment after Jeno had ditched him because he had to take over a shift at the cat café he worked at. (That poor boy had to take antihistamines before every shift because of his allergies but couldn’t resist the charm of the kittens.)   “You’re a lifesaver seriously,” the hyper boy repeated while jumping up and down excitedly, “Sitting still for hours on end is really so boring if you have no one to talk to.” “Can’t you talk to your artist?” You asked confused. “He threatened to stab me with the tattoo gun the last time when I was trying to talk to him while he worked,” Jaemin pouted. You could only imagine how irritating Jaemin and his moods could be to someone who wasn’t used to him. Ever since he had decided that he wanted to commit to what he had dubbed a soft punk look, he had been going to the shop somewhat regularly to start a collection of tattoos and piercings. It had started a year ago when he first had dyed his hair to a light blue color. Shortly after that he had first gotten his ears and then his nose pierced. The two lip rings in his lower lip were his newest addition as far as piercings went. The tattoos came a little later. After much consideration he had made the decision to start a floral piece on his arm, the center would be a hummingbird, all with black ink for now.

After a little bit of Instagram stalking you had easily identified the intricate flowers that adored Jaemin’s upper arm as Johnny’s work and the thought of seeing the handsome tattoo artist again had made your heart beat faster in your chest. Not that Jaemin needed to know that you weren’t coming with him for his sake but rather because of your desire to see the dark haired flirty man again.   You had been thinking about his dark eyes behind his silver framed glasses and how he scrunched his eyebrows when he was concentrating a lot for the last weeks. (Not that you had replayed the video of him piercing Yangyang an unhealthy amount of times or anything…) Every time you took care of your new piercing it reminded you of how his fingers felt on your skin and how his deep voice had gently guided you through everything. Not to forget how easily the pet names had rolled from his lips. And oh god his lips… His Instagram account featured a good amount of pictures of himself both casual and while working and the way his plush lips would curl into a confident smirk did things to your heart. His latest update had been the actual death of yours though. It had shown the new tattoo he had gotten recently: It was an intricate eagle that spread over his muscled chest, the feathers of the wings blending seamlessly into the other art covering his strong shoulders and biceps. Did you already mention that he was freaking shirtless in the picture? And that he was hiding a seriously ripped body beneath the wide T-Shirt he wore the last time you were at the shop? So to say that your thoughts had started to spiral after seeing that post was a little understated.

You still felt a little uneasy when you followed Jaemin through the backstreets of Itaewon but when the shabby door with the neon green ‘open’ sign came in sight, you felt the feeling disappear, only for it to be replaced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Jaemin grinned widely when he pushed the door open and his good mood was always infectious, a smile creeping on your lips. This time a new man sat at the counter, lazily rocking back and forth on the chair with his phone in his hand. His hair was dark and hung into his eyes and he wore a dark, long sleeved hoodie, so you couldn’t see if he had as many tattoos as his colleagues but if the tattoos on his hands and neck were any indication, he must be pretty covered as well. You recognized the rose on the back of his hand from one of Johnny’s Instagram posts. When the man looked up, you saw that he didn’t only have tattoos but piercings as well: In his lower lip sat two rings right next to each other, a ring dangled from his nose and two little silver balls sat in the hollows of his dimples that showed when he smiled at Jaemin. “Back for more?” He asked with a deep, rumbling voice and got up to greet Jaemin properly, bumping their shoulders together. “Got an appointment with Johnny for my sleeve,” the blue haired boy replied. “I see the snake bites healed well.” “Done by the best piercer of the shop.” “You know it,” the man laughed, throwing an arm around Jaemin. “Brought your girlfriend?” “I’m just a friend,” you quickly corrected the piercer. (Why couldn’t you just platonically join a friend for his tattoo session?) “Alright, just a friend, I’m Jaehyun. Johnny should be ready by now. You know the way?” Jaemin nodded and pulled you with him to Johnny’s room.

When Jaemin pulled the curtain to the room open, you weren’t prepared for what you were seeing: Johnny was standing in front of the full length mirror with his black button up shirt unbuttoned, applying cream to his still tender looking eagle tattoo on his chest, making his beautiful sunkissed skin glisten. “You’re early, Jaem,” he spoke. “Jaehyun said you were already ready,” the blue haired boy shrugged and plopped down onto the black bench. “Oh you brought company,” Johnny turned around when he spotted you and grinned, “I knew you’d come back, doll. How’s your piercing healing?” You had to summon all your strength to rip your eyes from Johnny’s strong and glistening chest to meet his dark eyes. “It’s fine as far as I know, doesn’t hurt anymore,” you stumbled across your words. Couldn’t he just button his shirt back up? “Let me see.” Before you could protest he had made two big steps and was right in front of you, the intoxicating smell of his perfume filling your senses. He gently tucked your hair back to have a look at the piercing and you swore you could feel electricity buzz beneath your skin where he had touched you. “You took great care of it, darling. Not regretting it yet?” “No, I like it.” I like you. The words had laid on your tongue but you managed to swallow them back down.

“Stop flirting with her, I’m the one paying for your attention,” Jaemin whined from where he was sitting. You of course immediately felt all your blood rush to your head but Johnny just chuckled. “I haven’t seen any cash yet, boy.” The tattoo artist gave you a last wink before turning towards his actual client, buttoning his shirt back up but leaving the last two buttons unbuttoned, letting the head of the eagle just barely poke out. Taking a deep breath you sat down in the worn leather chair while Jaemin handed Johnny a bunch of bills that the taller quickly counted. “Alright, I’m all yours for the next five hours or so,” he grinned, “You saw the drafts I sent you?” Jaemin nodded while he took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt to expose the ink on his arm. It was already beautiful even though it wasn’t even halfway done. The hummingbird was still missing its shading and he hung in the air for now, the flowers and leaves stopping above its head. “Yeah, I’m still not sure about the color though. Can’t we just do more flowers instead?” “Sure but the inner arm and near the elbow is going to hurt like a bitch. So it’s either that or you let me color that hummingbird.” Jaemin groaned dramatically, turning his arm to look into the mirror. “He does look weird just half-finished like that.” “So color it is?” Johnny asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt a bit, exposing his own tattoos: A snake like dragon curled around his entire right arm, kept in all black ink. “I really liked that green-blue watercolor thing you sent,” Jaemin supplied when he turned to lie down. “Right, then I’ll do some flowers directly surrounding the bird and color that thing.” He snapped his black gloves on and turned to prepare his machine and the colors.

“Come closer with that stupid chair,” Jaemin whined, making grabby hands at you. After Johnny nodded, you pushed the chair closer with great effort. “Are you going to whine for the whole time?” You groaned but smiled fondly at your friend. “Most likely,” Johnny answered instead of Jaemin and rolled over on his little stool, his silver framed glasses back on his nose and a pen between his lips. “I’ll freehand a bunch of flowers first to make sure they fit around that little guy nicely.” “And I thought you liked putting others in pain,” Jaemin joked when Johnny adjusted a little lamp and began to draw flower after flower. It was really fascinating how quick his hand drew delicate petals and leaves, filling up the space around the hummingbird. “Oh if I put others in pain, they usually like it,” he grinned, his voice dropping an octave. You almost choked on plain air and had to try to mask it as coughing but if the way Johnny’s eyes twinkled was any indication, he had seen right through it and dared to be smug about it. “Wow my third appointment and we’re already talking about kinks?” “Sorry Jaem, not interested,” the artist laughed, “I’m more into cute girls.” He leaned back to examine his drawing, throwing you another quick wink. You barely held in a squeak. He really wasn’t even trying to be subtle about his flirting anymore. “Ready for the big gun?” “Oh dick jokes now, nice,” Jaemin chuckled while you were sure your head was about to explode from how much blood was collecting in there. You covered your hot cheeks with your hands in a hopeless attempt to cool them. “Oh look Johnny, she’s getting shy already.” “I haven’t even started yet, baby.” That was it. This man was going to be the death of you. You really didn’t need to know what it sounded like when he spoke those words that were dripping with honey. “Why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Because you missed me”, Johnny said at the same time as Jaemin said: “Because you’re a good friend.”

After a beat of silence in which Johnny arranged his actual tattoo gun and Jaemin stared at you while his smile grew bigger and bigger, he asked: “Now which one is it?” “I’m not answering that,” you mumbled from beneath your fingers. “No answer is an answer as well,” Jaemin singsang but luckily the low buzzing of the tattoo machine saved you from any further embarrassment… For now…   “Now hold still or I’ll actually stab you,” Johnny warned before he dipped the needle into black ink and began to trace the lines he had just drawn on with a fine needle. “Yessir,” Jaemin joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Johnny was unusually quiet while he worked, completely tuning out the chatter of you and Jaemin about shitty professors and assignments. You were absolutely fascinated by the confidence he radiated while dragging the needle over his client’s skin. He went back and forth between two different tattoo guns and rubbed Jaemin’s skin every now and then to get rid of excess ink. Soon Jaemin’s whole upper arm was decorated with delicate flowers and leaves and Johnny leaned back to both take a deep breath while stretching his back and to look at his work. “Let’s take a break before I do the color,” he proposed, wiping down the skin. “It looks great,” you complimented his work, taking a picture for Jaemin so he could see it himself. “Damn that pain really pays off,” your friend grinned, zooming in and out of the picture before posting it to his Instagram. “Does it hurt badly?” “You get used to it,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes from his feed, “It’s more like someone continuously scratching you.” “I can show you if you want,” Johnny chimed in from where he was cleaning his tattoo gun from the black ink. “I don’t think I’m spontaneous enough for a sudden tattoo.” “Not even if I offer it for free again?” He laughed. “I’m not mentally prepared for that,” you tried to reason. “I can still show you how it feels though. Without ink.” You shyly nodded and held out your arm for him that he quickly wiped down with disinfectant when he was done putting a fresh needle into the gun. “Just don’t flinch, darling,” he softly spoke before the buzzing of his tattoo gun filled the silence. You expected it to hurt a lot more when the needle touched your skin but it really wasn’t that bad. It was an odd kind of pain you couldn’t really describe. “It’s not that bad,” you told him, looking into his beautiful brown eyes behind his glasses. “It hurts more when it’s directly on the bone or at a more tender area,” Johnny explained and turned the gun off again, bending down to look at the slightly reddened skin of your arm before chucking the used needle into the nearby trashcan. “Let’s patch that up real quick, just treat it like any other scratch.” You nodded and let the handsome man put a band-aid over it. But before you could pull your arm back again, he leaned down to press a kiss on the cloth “For a good and quick healing,” he breathed and grinned smugly when you quickly turned your head away to hide your heated face.

“When you’re done flirting, will you finally put some color into me?” Jaemin interrupted, grinning widely. “That’s what she said,” you mumbled under your breath, making Johnny chuckle. “All you need to do is ask, darling.” Before you could even wrap your mind around what the tattoo artist had just implied, he had already rolled back over to your blue haired friend to take a look at the hummingbird. “Alright let’s do this,” he grinned before wiping down the skin once more. The buzzing of a new machine filled the room and Jaemin scrunched his eyes shut when the needle dipped in turquoise ink met his skin. “This is nasty,” he complained. “Don’t be a baby,” Johnny murmured, dragging the needle over your friend’s skin that accepted the ink quickly. “You want to hold my hand?” You giggled. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to actually reach out to you with his unoccupied arm, making a grabby hand. “Jeno always holds my hand,” he whined. “You’re such a big baby, Nana,” you sighed but still laced your fingers together, yelping loudly when Jaemin squeezed down hard. “You said it didn’t even hurt, you big liar,” you squeezed out between gritted teeth. “You’re not the one getting stabbed,” Jaemin argued, “That shit hurts different than the black.” “It’s a different needle,” Johnny explained, “People usually say it hurts less than outlines though.” “It’s not more or less, it’s just different.” “Well it’s going to hurt more if you keep seizing up like that, relax.” “You’re one to fucking talk,” Jaemin sounded upset. “Don’t curse at me for giving you a pretty tattoo,” Johnny just said, dipping his needle into the little pot that held the color again. “Talk him through it,” the artist said to you, looking up from behind his glasses that had slipped down his nose again.

“Hey, remember that time when Donghyuck was so drunk he wanted to jump from the roof into the pool at that frat house?” You quickly said, the silly story coming to mind first. The memory made Jaemin giggle. “Jeno and Mark had so much trouble holding him back once he managed to climb out of the window,” the blue haired boy chuckled. “They were lucky they didn’t fall off.” “That would have made for an even better story though,” Jaemin laughed. “They could have hurt themselves,” you said, scandalized, “You’re hanging out with Renjun too much.” Jaemin didn’t answer, instead he just hummed and wiggled his dark eyebrows.

“Did you ever go to college?” You asked Johnny out of curiosity even though Jaemin had said that the artist preferred to keep quiet and concentrate on his work. “Do I look like I went?” He just laughed, cocking one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows at you when he looked up. “Well, I didn’t want to assume,” you shied away under his gaze. “I dropped out of high school to learn tattooing,” Johnny shared while painting Jaemin’s skin as blue as his hair, “I wasn’t good in school anyways. So art school or something wasn’t an option either. Not that I would have had any money for that.” “What made you want to pick up tattooing then?” You asked curiously. “Art usually is very temporarily and if you make a mistake, you can just erase it or paint over it with another color. Not so much with tattoos. I like that. It’s immortal as long as you don’t start shooting lasers at it.” “I’ve never thought about it like that,” you confessed. Tattooing had never seemed like art to you but that was exactly what it was. Just not on a canvas but under your skin. “Thinking about getting one now?” Jaemin teased, squeezing your hand that he still held. “I haven’t even told my parents about the piercing,” you scoffed, “They would disown me.” “Well too bad, I know a pretty good tattoo artist,” he joked and poked his tongue out. “Do you now?” Johnny asked, a grin on his lips, wiping down Jaemin’s arm before going in with a lighter color. “Yeah, he works in this shady ass shop in Itaewon and I am pretty sure you can buy drugs there as well.” “Those are not for sale,” the artist chuckled when he saw your scandalized expression. “It’s just anesthetics for certain piercing procedures, calm down doll.” “So sadly, it turns out you can’t buy drugs at their shop but it still looks shady and I’m pretty sure they’re paying part of the mafia so the police won’t come to investigate.” “I know nothing of transactions of this sort,” Johnny commented before you could get an actual heart attack. Illegally tattooing and piercing was one thing but mingling with the mafia was a whole other thing. “Anyways, he does pretty cool tattoos and pierces as well,” Jaemin continued, a grin on his lips, “Also talking male to male here, he’s pretty ripped.” At that Johnny started grinning as well. “Wanna know his name?” Jaemin asked you when Johnny turned to clean his needle and you just rolled your eyes but nodded, wondering what he was getting out of all of this. “It’s Jaehyun.” “Excuse me?” Johnny exclaimed with wide eyes when both you and your blue haired friend started laughed at his stupid joke. “This kid,” he mumbled and shook his head before putting the needle back to Jaemin’s skin who seemed to have forgotten to whine about the pain.

The rest of the appointment was spend with you and Jaemin chatting about this and that and a short video call from a red eyed Jeno who had finished his shift at the cat café and wanted to apologize and promised to buy you two dinner after you were done. “I think that’s all I can do for today,” Johnny said after he had stared at the little hummingbird for a while, “Your skin took the color well but if I do any more, I’ll stress the skin too much. I can go in another time if I need to fix anything.” Jaemin nodded, sitting up so he could inspect the colorful hummingbird in the mirror. “Wow that looks sick,” he commented, his eyes going wide, “Totally worth the pain.” “That’s what I wanna hear,” the artist grinned, grabbing some paper towels to rub the tattoo down once more. “Let me snap a picture to post.”

After both men had taken about 20 photos each, Johnny quickly wrapped Jaemin’s arm in plastic wrap, reminding him how to take care of it. “Text me for the next session, I think we could fit some pretty roses at the bottom. Maybe add a dash of color here and there or other animals,” the artist smiled, slipping the glasses off his nose, gently placing them on the table. “I’ll think about it but first I gotta slave away behind the bar to make more money,” Jaemin sighed, shrugging his jacket back on. “And you darling?” Johnny asked, putting on his confident smile again. “When will I see you again?” You just stared at him, at a loss for an answer. Did he really want to see you again? But before you could even open your mouth, Jaemin had already pulled your phone from your grasp, unlocked it and shoved it towards Johnny. “Put your number in already,” he sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. Laughing, Johnny did as your friend had said. “Very smooth, Jaem.” “I- I guess I’ll text you,” you stuttered when Johnny gave your phone back, your fingers tingling where his touched yours. “I’ll be waiting, darling,” he winked, raking a hand through his inky strands. “Alright, time to leave, before you start drooling,” Jaemin destroyed the intense atmosphere and grabbed your arm to pull you back to the main room and out of the parlor, leaving a laughing Johnny behind in his room.

“I wasn’t even drooling, what the fuck Jaemin,” you argued when you were outside, your phone clutched to your chest. “Stop complaining, I got you his number, you should be thankful,” he just grinned, absolutely shameless, tugging you along through the little street. “I will not thank you for embarrassing me in front of him,” you pouted, unlocking your phone to confirm that Johnny had indeed put his number into the contacts with a little black heart behind his name.

“Is it too early to text him?” You asked when you and Jaemin sat in the subway on the way to his and Jeno’s dorm to take him up on his offer for food. Your friend just laughed at you, making an elderly man scowl at the two of you, who shook his head in disapproval. Well, Jaemin’s visuals didn’t help him when he acted like this in public. But as long as he didn’t care, you wouldn’t care either. “Text him after we’ve eaten,” he advised you. “Then you don’t seem as desperate as you are,” he added, which earned him a punch to his not tattooed arm.

All through dinner, Jaemin retold every embarrassing moment that happened at the tattoo parlor, making Jeno laugh so hard that he almost choked on his rice. You really needed to find new friends. These ones were just harassing you at this point. (Aside from the fact that Jaemin had indeed managed to get you Johnny’s number, you’d thank him later when he couldn’t make fun at you.)

Later that night, you laid in bed in your own dorm room, staring at the screen of your phone. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard but you really couldn’t think of what you should text Johnny. You didn’t want to seem weird. With how confident he was, he probably did this a lot and you were too proud to make a fool of yourself. Groaning you tossed and turned in your bed for a while, still staring at the empty chat box that by now must be mocking you for your cowardice. Sighing you typed out another short message to immediately delete it again. Should you just send him a simple ‘Hi’ or ask him if he had eaten? How the rest of his day went? In moments like this you whished you were more confident in yourself.

The sound of an incoming message suddenly filled the room and made you jerk. When you saw Johnny’s name on the screen, your heart first stopped for a second before it started beating about three times as fast as it should. How did that happen? With shaking hands you unlocked the phone to see that you in fact didn’t delete the last message but accidentally send it. Luckily it wasn’t as embarrassing as it could have been and Johnny had just answered that he was glad that you had finally texted him. Before you could think of an answer he sent another text asking you why you were still awake this late when he expected you to be a ‘good girl’. You could practically hear his smirk and you couldn’t fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. You replied that you were already in bed and were about to sleep if he was concerned about your sleep pattern that honestly wasn’t the greatest ever since the semester had started. ‘Oh, sexting already’ he replied, making you shriek in embarrassment. Was this what your message had looked like? ‘You alone?’ He asked and with a furiously beating heart you answered with a simple yes.

A couple of seconds went by with no answer from him which definitely didn’t lower your anxiety before the loud sound of your ringtone tore through the silence, Johnny’s name on the display. You quickly answered it to not wake up anyone on your floor, pressing it tightly to your ear. “Hello?” “Good evening, miss,” you heard the rumble of Johnny’s voice, “Missed me already?” “You’re the one who called,” you argued, making the man on the other end of the line giggle. “That is true.” “Why did you call?” You asked curiously, shifting to lie down on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Just wanted some company. My last client just left and I’m cleaning up the shop for today, the others already left,” he explained. “Jaehyun and Taeyong?” “Yeah those two guys,” he sighed and you heard him rummaging in the background. “Is it just you three at the shop?” “Yeah, it was just me and Taeyong at first but Jaehyun is an incredibly quick learner once he had found someone who was willing to teach him a thing or two. So he quickly joined the two of us.” You just hummed, your fingers playing with your hair, unsure of what to say. It was somehow easier to talk to him like this when you couldn’t see his eyes twinkle in mischief or his lips curling up in that confident smirk. Like this he was just a boy who wanted company and not an insanely handsome, heavily tattooed man who flirted shamelessly. “Do you usually work this late?” You asked to fill the silence and out of curiosity as well. If the shop wasn’t legal there sure weren’t any laws regulating how long the artists were supposed to work. “I don’t,” Johnny laughed, “But thank you for your concern. I was just tattooing a friend for free after my last paying client left because he was in the area.” “You do that a lot? Offering up your services for free?” “Just for friends and special people, doll,” he chuckled, “Why? Are you considering getting inked after all?”

Well were you? You didn’t even know at this point. Whenever you had thought of tattoos you had only ever thought about big bold and very black lines, of skulls, names of exes on your skin forever and warped pictures of people’s faces. But never of delicate flowers, bright colors and intricate designs. Johnny had made it obvious that it was art that he was doing and that it wasn’t just some technical procedure to get color beneath your skin. “I- I don’t know,” you confessed, “I never thought much about tattoos until Jaemin started getting them.” “I thought so,” the artist chuckled, “But I bet I could design a pretty piece that would compliment you nicely.” “I don’t think I’m the type for it though,” you argued, thinking about the amount of ink on Johnny’s body and you hadn’t even seen half of it. (Not that you planned on doing so but you were curious to know if there was more hiding beneath his clothes.) “It doesn’t have to be an obvious one. Just something only you know about.” That really got you thinking. His tattoos were really delicate and you had seen that he could write in really pretty cursive. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything, darling. But if you ever want one, you know who to ask.”

“Yeah, thank you Johnny,” you murmured, lost in thought about how you would look like with multiple tattoos. “I like the way you say my name.” “You- what?” You stuttered when he caught you off guard like that, making him laugh. “You’re cute,” he said once he had calmed down. “Stop pouting,” he added when you weren’t answering. “How did you know I was?” Johnny chuckled again. “I just knew.” “Thank you for keeping me company,” he said when you hadn’t said anything in a while. “It’s alright. I like talking to you,” you confessed. You could hear a door closing and his deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “You probably hear that a lot…” you murmured, embarrassed at how the words had slipped past your lips. “I actually don’t,” Johnny said, “I appreciate the words, darling. I’m all done cleaning up now, thank you for keeping me company.” “It’s fine, no need to thank me.” “You should go sleep now, it’s already late. Sweet dreams, doll. Maybe I’ll even visit you.” “Goodnight, Johnny,” you squeaked. The last thing you heard before he ended the call was another chuckle and a hushed goodbye. Smiling widely you turned your face into your pillow to muffle the scream you let out. How could this man make your heart beat faster like that with just a few simple words? And why did this short phone call make you so happy? Sighing, you put your phone to your nightstand and cuddled tightly into your blanket, the thought of Johnny’s smooth voice guiding you to sleep where he indeed did visit you.

After that initial phone call, Johnny called you more and more often. Sometimes when he was on his lunch break and his colleagues were still working, sometimes later at night when your head was spinning from studying and he was cleaning up the shop. You two talked about your days, you complained about professors, deadlines and assignments and he told you about tattooing and his sometimes crazy clients. And every now and then Johnny would bring up his offer to tattoo you. Which made your thoughts spiral every single time. In class you would scroll through Johnny’s Instagram account, imagining what some of the intricate, more feminine designs would look like on your skin. After much consideration you definitely ruled out anything big or colorful. But something small wouldn’t hurt, right? Well it would, you would be giving him permission to stab you with an automated needle a bunch of times which in itself sounded really scary. But Jaemin’s tattoo looked nice. And after his skin had peeled, the hummingbird truly looked absolutely incredible and you couldn’t wait for him to visit the shop again to keep working on the sleeve.

So in a whim of bravery and with the help of the little glass of wine you had drank you told Johnny that he should tattoo you. “Are you for real?” He asked. “I am,” you giggled, “I’ve thought about it a lot the past weeks.” “I am honored, darling. What will it be?” “Something small and no colors please,” you told him. “That’s all you’re asking for?” “Yeah, I… I like the simple black stuff you do,” you stuttered, suddenly really nervous and unsure if this was actually a good idea. “I’ll design something that’ll match you perfectly,” Johnny promised, sounding very eager. You could hear some rummaging on his end of the line. “I could fit you in Friday evening after my last client. It won’t be too late and I need some time to come up with a design that’s worthy of being in your body.” You swallowed dryly. If you said yes, you couldn’t back out anymore. You would be getting inked. Secretly. Without telling anyone. Not to mention illegally. In a reasonably shady shop that was owned by the most gorgeous man you had ever met. Taking a deep breath, you nodded before you realized that he couldn’t see that. “I’ll be there,” you promised. “I’m looking forward to it, doll,” Johnny said before he wished you sweet dreams just like every time when he called you late at night.

The neon light in front of the door to the shop was already shut off when you arrived the next Friday late in the evening but the door gave away when you pushed it open with trembling hands after taking a deep breath. “I thought you weren’t going to come, darling, you left me waiting,” Johnny greeted you, jumping down from the counter he had sat on. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt with a little white rose design over his heart that fit him perfectly. His hair was elegantly swept back, exposing the freshly shaved part on the side. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, fumbling with the sleeves of your hoodie. “Don’t be nervous, I’ll take good care of you,” he promised, quickly locking the front door before taking you to his room where he motioned for you to sit on the bench. “Do you trust me?” He asked, tipping your head up so you would look into his dark eyes. “I- I think I do,” you stuttered. “I won’t tell you what you’re getting,” Johnny grinned and your eyes widened in shock. “You will like it and it’s not that big.” “I’m not sure, Johnny,” you voiced your concerns but he just pressed his index finger to your lips before you could say any more. Your breath hitched and he could definitely feel your shaky exhale against his finger. “You said you trust me, doll.” Taking another shaky breath, you nodded and a smile spread over his plush lips. “I need you to take off your shirt and lie down on your left side,” he spoke, his voice casual but you could feel something shift in the air between you. At a loss for words you just nodded again and did as Johnny asked when he turned around to gather his stuff.

“Take a couple of deep breaths for me, darling,” he instructed you when he rolled over on his little stool, his glasses sitting low on his nose and his hands already gloved. “It’s going on your ribs,” he told you so you wouldn’t flinch when he quickly dragged a razor over the area before disinfecting it. “I’ll draw a quick sketch first. I don’t want to mess it up when it’s going on your beautiful skin.”  You felt the tip of his pen meet your skin in a gentle stroke, tickling your skin so you had to giggle. “Don’t make me mess this up, baby,” Johnny scolded, playfully slapping your back. “It tickles,” you pouted. “I’m trying to be gentle with you,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice. While he was sketching, you closed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was drawing. But all you could figure out was that it was something rather small which calmed your nerves a bit.

“All done,” the tattoo artist announced after a while and quickly pulled his little side table with his tattoo gun and ink closer. When the low buzzing noise filled the air, you pressed your eyes shut even tighter, balling your hands into fists. Technically you knew it wouldn’t hurt badly, Johnny had shown you before. But you were still getting stabbed a bunch of times and fuck, you were really doing this. Letting this man put something on your body that was going to be there forever and you didn’t even know what it was going to be. “Relax, darling. I’ll be as gentle as I can be,” he promised, running a hand up and down your back. “It’s going to be on me forever,” you said. “It is. Your own personal piece of art on your body. Just for you to have.” That was a beautiful way to see it, you thought. It’s not just some pigment stabbed into your skin but art. Something unique no one else had. And Johnny would be painting it on just you for you and you alone. “Okay, let’s do this,” you breathed. “That’s my good girl,” Johnny praised and the words made your stomach twist with a feeling you didn’t want to further explore.

The pain was bearable. It was weird at first and the ribs sure hurt more than it had on your arm and the bones somehow seemed to amplify the buzzing, making it travel through your body. You had to grit your teeth when Johnny went over what seemed to be the middle part of the tattoo, where he grazed the skin in quick successions. “That hurts.” “I know, baby. But you’re almost done. You’re doing so well for me,” he soothed and gave you a small break to breathe before he went back in.

“All done, darling,” Johnny announced a little later, turning off his machine and rubbing the tattoo down with a wet paper towel. “Can I see it now?” You asked. “In a bit, keep your eyes closed,” he spoke softly and took your hands in his now ungloved ones to first guide you into a sitting position and then off the bench and over to what you assumed to be the mirror. He turned you so your side was facing the glass and put one of his big hands on your waist. It felt hot on your exposed skin and made goosebumps break out on your skin. “Open your eyes, doll.” You did and looked directly into his dark chocolate brown eyes behind his glasses. “I’m too scared to look now, is that silly?” You asked, losing yourself in his eyes and leaning towards his body that just seemed to radiate heat. “It’s beautiful, just like you,” he assured you, squeezing your waist reassuringly. After taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from him and turned to look at yourself in the mirror where a delicate, black chrysanthemum was awaiting you on the skin over your ribs. It indeed looked beautiful, absolutely stunning. It was small but looked so delicate and realistic and fit well with the curves of your body. “It’s stunning,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Johnny.” “No need to thank me, darling,” he chuckled and when your eyes met again, his were dark and almost hungry. “But I think I should reward you for being so good while I tattooed you.” Before you could ask what kind of reward he was talking about, he had already connected your lips in a passionate kiss and pulled your body flush against his. You couldn’t help but sigh now that you finally knew what the metal of his lip piercing felt like against your lips. Johnny was a good kisser and you were boneless in his strong grip not long after he had slipped his tongue past your lips after you had moaned into the kiss when he had started to push you backwards to the bench again, hoisting you back up. “Let me make up for the pain I’ve caused you,” he breathed against your swollen lips when you broke apart to breathe.   “Just keep kissing me like that,” you demanded, burying your hands in his soft black locks to kiss him again. He chuckled and let you dominate the kiss for a while, toying with the black ring in his lip and exploring his mouth. Meanwhile Johnny’s hands started to wander from their place on your waist down to grope at your ass, pulling you forward against him, so you could feel his growing erection between your legs which made a spark of arousal shoot through you.

“Let me make you feel good, baby,” he breathed heavily while kissing down your neck, gently taking the skin between his teeth. “Please Johnny,” you begged, feeling the arousal simmer low in your stomach. Grinning he pulled back and raked his dark eyes over your figure before making quick work of your belt and sliding your jeans along with your panties from your legs, only shortly struggling with your shoes. “It’s not Johnny now, baby,” he rasped when he kneeled down in front of you, pulling you towards him roughly, so your glistening core was exposed to him. “It’s Daddy,” he added before licking a broad stripe through your folds and flicking his tongue at your clit. You could just mewl and throw your head back in pleasure. You didn’t know that this would be such a turn on for you. “Say it, baby,” Johnny demanded, lazily dragging his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered and you could feel his low groan vibrating against your core. He wasted no time to attach his plush lips to your clit, gently sucking and grazing his teeth over the little nub, making you mewl and shiver in pleasure. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between stimulating your clit to the point where it almost became too much before he focused on dragging his tongue through your folds, gently prodding against your entrance before it gave away. When Johnny moaned you could feel it travel straight through you, making your head swim with pleasure. Looking down to the man kneeling in front of you, you were met with his dark eyes, staring straight up into yours. Moaning, you threaded your fingers into his soft hair and pressed his face closer to your core, not even taking the chance that he could move back. “Feels so good, Daddy,” you moaned when he spread your labia with his fingers so his tongue could dive deeper into you, stimulating your velvety walls. When he hummed it send sweet vibrations through your core and you could feel your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast. “Mmmh, so close Daddy.” “You wanna cum, baby?” He rasped, his hot breath fanning over your clit that he was lazily rubbing with two fingers. You bit your lip and met his dark eyes, nodding furiously. “Then beg for it, doll. I could stay here for hours,” Johnny spoke before he turned his head to mouth at your thigh, gently biting and sucking at the sensitive skin until it bruised under his ministrations. “I would just keep you right on the edge for hours until you’re a shaking mess for me, begging for release.” His lips split into a wicked grin when he saw how his dirty words affected you and he slowed his fingers on your clit until it was just enough to keep you stimulated but not enough to make the knot in your stomach snap. “Please Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please what baby?” He rested his head on your thigh, looking up at you from innocent eyes as if he wasn’t driving you insane with just his fingers. “What is it beautiful?” He repeated the question, replacing his fingers with his tongue. “You wanna cum?” “Yes please,” you whined, grinding your hips against his tongue to get more friction. “Well if you ask so nicely…” Johnny immediately slipped two fingers inside you with almost no resistance from how ridiculously wet you were and began pumping them in and out of your core fast, crooking them to search for your sweet spot. “Come on baby,” he growled, locking eyes with you again when he closed his lips around your clit. Almost screaming his name, you came hard when his fingers finally found your sweet spot, rubbing at it mercilessly to help you ride out your orgasm. Your thighs were shaking and you fell back onto the bench, the leather sticking to your back where you just laid for a while, your head spinning, breathing heavily.

“You look gorgeous like that,” Johnny complimented you, when he got back up from the floor, raking his clean hand through the mess that was his hair before he shamelessly took his fingers that were covered in your essence into his mouth, sucking them clean. Through half lidded eyes you could see the way he was still straining against the fabric of his jeans and the sight made your mouth water. “You’re still hard,” you said breathless.   “I am,” he said matter of factly. You wordlessly let your thighs fall open for him, exposing your core to him. “Oh baby,” Johnny cursed, pressing the heel of his palm against his bulge, “As much as I want to fuck you right now, you still have a fresh tattoo, doll.” “Please, Johnny, I want it,” you begged. “Shh, baby,” he soothed you rubbing a hand over your thigh, “Let me dress that tattoo and then I’ll take you upstairs to fuck you on an actual bed like you deserve.” You nodded, amazed by his amount of self-control.

Johnny worked quickly and efficiently: Cleaning your tattoo one last time before putting some ointment on it to keep it moisturized. At last he gently taped down a small sheet of plastic foil to keep it safe. “All done, beautiful,” he spoke before pecking your lips, “You still want to come upstairs with me?” “Yes Daddy,” you answered and you swore you could see his eyes darken just from the word alone. “Hold on tightly,” he ordered before scooping you up into his arms, holding you up by your thighs. Squealing you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. “I’ll get your clothes before we open up tomorrow,” he mumbled when he carried you through the back door of the shop that lead to a dusty staircase. You pressed your body closer to his, nuzzling your face into his neck where the smell of his cologne was the strongest, to have some of his warmth seep into your skin when you started to shiver from the cold air. Lazily you let your lips travel over his skin, sucking a mark next to a splash of ink.

Johnny quickly grabbed the keys to his apartment’s door from atop of the doorframe (not really safe) and unlocked his door while holding you up with just one of his arms, the display of strength making your head spin. With quick steps he crossed the way to his bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, immediately crawling on top of you, crowding you against the mattress. “I knew you would look good in my bed,” he rasped, kissing your neck while his hands made quick work of the bra that you were still wearing for some reason. “You’re gorgeous, doll,” he breathed after he had sat up on his knees, looking down at you with dark eyes, his big hands roaming your body. Feeling shy under all the attention and compliments he was giving you, you tried to hide your face behind your fingers but he wasn’t having any of it, quickly grabbing your wrists in one hand to pin them above your head. “Don’t hide from me baby. Daddy wants to see how much you’re enjoying yourself.” You could just nod, trying to force down the whimper that almost spilled past your lips, he hadn’t even done much yet and you were already feeling arousal pulse through your veins. “I couldn’t hear your answer,” Johnny teased, gently grabbing one of your boobs to massage the soft flesh. “Yes, Daddy.” “That’s my good girl,” he grinned, releasing your wrists to slip his T-Shirt over his head, revealing his strong chest where the eagle majestically spread its wings and the hard lines of his abs. “Like what you see?” He asked smugly, climbing off the bed to unbuckle his belt and slip his jeans off his narrow hips, revealing strong, muscled thighs. One of them was covered with the face of a growling panther while the other was decorated with a colorful koifish tattoo that disappeared beneath the fabric of his dark boxers that were doing very little to hide a prominent bulge. “Let me,” you breathed and crawled over to hook your thumbs into the waistband. But before you pulled them down, you pressed a couple of kisses to the cherry blossom branch tattoo that seemed to stretch from his back over his hipbone and further down, mingling with the koi tattoo further down. With every centimeter of skin you exposed, more ink from the blossoms became visible and you kissed every single one of the delicate flowers. When his length finally sprang free, you had to swallow dryly: His cock was huge and hung heavy between his legs. Licking your lips you looked up to him, to find him grinning down at you. “Go to town, baby.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you were itching to feel his heavy weight on your tongue. You pressed a sweet kiss to his tip before placing a hand at the base only to find him surprisingly soft as you experimentally pumped your hand once. “It takes a while for it to get fully hard,” he groaned when you moved your hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, feeling it pulse beneath your fingers. Damn if he wasn’t even fully hard, how big would he be if he was? Holding him at the base, you licked a broad stripe up the whole length before you swiped your tongue around the pink head, pulling another groan from Johnny’s lips. Taking a deep breath, you finally took him in your mouth and hollowed your cheeks, tasting his skin. The weight on your tongue felt just right and you couldn’t help but moan as you slowly started to take more and more of him until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Shit, you were barely able to fit half of his length in your mouth like this. “You’re so big,” you moaned when you pulled off of him with a wet pop, spreading your saliva down the shaft with both of your hands. Johnny just hummed and grabbed a handful of your hair to shove your mouth back onto his dick. He cursed when the velvety heat surrounded him again and gently began to thrust in and out your mouth. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he breathed heavily. You could only moan where your lips were stretched around his length and hollow your cheeks when he pulled out, the grip he had on your hair keeping you in place while he snapped his hips. “Shit baby,” Johnny cursed when he pulled out, panting while he rested the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. “I could cum like this.” You whined pathetically, looking up at him with pleading eyes. He chuckled and gently slapped his cock against your lips, smearing them with precum. “But you don’t want that, don’t you, baby? You want my cock inside you? Stretching you out?” “Yes Daddy, please. I need it so bad,” you blabbered, not even knowing where those words were coming from but you seemed to have said the right thing with how Johnny’s dick twitched in his hand.

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby. Ass up.” It was almost comically how fast you complied, baring yourself to him. “Such a good girl,” he praised, grabbing your asscheeks to knead and pull them apart. “Beautiful.” “Please Daddy,” you begged him, arching your back further. “Patience baby,” he chuckled. A frustrated groan got stuck in your throat and turned into a drawn out whine when he pushed two of his fingers inside you, pumping them quickly and curling them to find your sweet spot again. Soon two fingers became three and he had reduced you to a moaning mess with how he abused your sweet spot once he had found it again. “You think you’re ready for my cock, baby?” “Yes. Oh god, yes please,” you begged while shamelessly grinding back on his fingers that he had stilled inside of you. “Spread your cheeks for me,” he ordered while quickly grabbing a condom from his bedside table and rolling it onto his cock. Balancing your weight on your knees and shoulders, you reached around yourself to pull your asscheeks apart so Johnny could see your core clenching around nothing. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasped, running his palm along the curve of your body while lazily thrusting his cock through your folds, making it glisten with your essence. Finally you could feel him nudging at your entrance with the thick head of his cock. “You want it, baby?” “Yes please Daddy,” you gasped, trying hard to be good and not grind back against him. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he chuckled, “And good girls get what they want if they ask so politely.” With that he finally sank into you in one agonizingly slow thrust until you could feel his hip bones press against your skin. You had to screw your eyes shut and bite your lip to suppress a whimper. You had never felt so full before.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” Johnny groaned, grabbing you by the dip of your waist with his big hands, grinding you on his cock. “I’m so full, Daddy,” you gasped when he slowly pulled out until only the head of his cock was inside you before he languidly thrust back in. “Yeah? You like that? Being stuffed full of my cock?” You could only moan and nod where your head was pressed into the sheets. His cock was so big that it seemed to press against every good spot that was inside you, setting your nerve endings on fire, the pain from being stretched like that only adding to your pleasure. “You‘re sucking me right back in baby,” he cursed and gripped your waist harder, pulling you back on his cock as he picked up the pace, low groans falling from his lips. Your moans got progressively louder and louder the faster Johnny snapped his hips. “Hands behind your back, baby,” he ordered panting and immediately grabbed both your wrists in his hands to use them as leverage so he could fuck into you faster, the change of angle and pace making you moan his name. Your head was swimming with pleasure and you could only moan and mewl beneath him, imagining how he would bite his lip while watching his dick disappear inside you over and over again, stretching out the delicate skin of your sex. “God baby, your ass looks amazing,” Johnny groaned, praise after praise falling from his lips that reduced you to a moaning mess.

With one particularly hard thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside you and draped his body over yours, his hot breath fanning over your face when he spoke, a deep rumble in his chest while grinding his dick right against your sweet spot that had you seeing colors behind your closed eyes. “Wanna see you bounce on my dick, doll. Can you do that for me?” Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Your ability to form coherent sentences had left you as soon as he had begun to fuck you in earnest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred and gently pulled out, making you whimper from the loss. You felt the bed dip next to you and when you opened your eyes, you were met with Johnny’s pleased smirk as he leaned against the headboard of the bed, his cock resting against his hip, too heavy to properly stand up and you couldn’t stop another whimper. “Come on baby, I know you want it,” he grinned, crooking a finger in a ‘come closer’ motion. Dragging your limbs from beneath you with great effort, you climbed onto his lap, immediately claiming his lips in a messy kiss. You buried your hands in his stupidly perfect hair to mess it up and tug at the inky strands, causing Johnny to moan into the kiss. “Hmm, my baby is feisty,” he chuckled when he broke the kiss, the pupils of his dark eyes blown so wide that they seemed almost black. “But you promised me to ride my dick,” he reminded you. “And I’m gonna,” you slurred, reaching between your bodies to grab his cock, giving it a couple of strokes. “But turn around for me baby. Wanna see how much my fat cock is going to stretch you out,” he rasped, playfully biting your lips. “But I want to see you too,” you complained. “Oh you can,” he grinned and pointed over your shoulder. You reluctantly turned around before you saw what he meant. Right across from the bed was a big mirror and you gasped because of how fucked out you already looked. A couple of tears had rolled down your cheeks and messed up your makeup and your lipstick was smeared around your lips.

You carefully grabbed Johnny’s cock again and held it steady so you could sink down on him, watching yourself in the mirror until you sat snug on his lap and had to close your eyes because the feeling was so overwhelming. He felt even bigger like that. “You okay, baby?” He asked, grabbing your hips tightly to help you swivel them on his cock, making it press into your walls just how you liked it. “How does your cock feel even bigger like this?” You gasped as you leaned forward and slowly started to ride him at first to get used to his size and figure out the best angle for you. Your legs shook with the effort to keep your rhythm but the look Johnny had on his face, his eyes glued to where you two were connected, made it worth it. Suddenly a wicked grin spread on his lips and he snapped his hips up when you lowered yourself again, tearing loud moans from both of you. “Fuck, do that again,” you demanded when you raised your hips again. “What’s the magic word?” Johnny teased, holding you up so you wouldn’t drop down again. “Please, Daddy.” Groaning he started to snap his hips up every time you ground down on him, making your skin slap together with an obscene noise.

God you wanted to die on his dick. “Do you now?” Johnny laughed. Shit did you say that out loud? “Want to feel how deep it goes inside you?” He rasped, wrapping his strong arms around your waist. You went lax in his hold and mewled helplessly. Who knew that a little display of strength and a big dick were such turn ons for you that your brain was reduced to mush. Grinning he carefully pulled you up and against his chest and draped your legs over his after he had planted his feet firmly onto the mattress. “Watch, baby,” he ordered as he lifted you off of him until only the tip was barely inside you anymore before letting you drop down again. You mewled and thrashed in his hold, the feeling just on the edge of too much. Feeling him deep inside you was one thing but actually seeing it was a whole other thing and it messed with your head. Curiously you pressed your hand down on your lower stomach when Johnny had started to piston his hips up into you instead of dropping you down onto his cock every time and you swore you could feel him move inside you. A drawn out curse left your lips and you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

With the way he was snapping his hips up you could feel your orgasm approach at lightning speed and you were so far gone that you shamelessly reached between your legs to stimulate your clit. “Fuck baby, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny groaned, grinding his dick inside you as you quickly rubbed your clit, toeing right on the edge. “Please Daddy,” you cried out, not sure what you were even begging for. “You gonna cum on my cock?” He rasped, snapping his hips harshly, “Wrapped around my big cock stretching you out like this?” You nodded your head furiously, your eyes screwed shut. You were so close that you could already feel your toes curling. “Show me baby. Show Daddy how good his cock makes you feel.” That’s what pushed you over the edge, the way he was panting in your ear, his voice strained from how he was drilling into you. The coil in your stomach snapped and you almost screamed his name, your body curling inwards and thighs shivering as your orgasm washed over you, making a bunch of colors explode behind your lids. In the back of your mind you registered Johnny’s curses and how he was grinding his cock inside you to help you ride out your orgasm. “Such a good girl,” he praised when your body went lax on top of him, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. You briefly wondered if you had ever cum this hard and you couldn’t think of any other time. “Thank you Daddy,” you panted, turning your face to press a messy kiss to his plush lips that were bitten raw. He chuckled lowly when you whimpered when his still hard cock shifted when you tried to turn around.

“Will you let me fuck you for a little longer, baby?” He asked, running a hand through your sweaty hair. Instead of answering him, you lifted yourself off his dick to turn around on his lap, capturing his lips again. “Want you to ruin me,” you whispered between kisses, “Want you to ruin me for any other men. Want to only remember how you feel inside of me.” Johnny growled deep in his chest before he pushed you down onto the bed, hungrily licking into your mouth. “You’re the one who is ruining me,” he panted, rising to his knees. He quickly grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders before he sank into you again with a low groan. This time he didn’t waste any time with building up the pace and immediately snapped his hips harshly, chasing his own orgasm. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he panted, folding your thighs to your chest so he could push into you even deeper, making you see stars with how he was nailing your sweet spot with the new angle. And even though you had just cum, you felt another orgasm build inside your stomach. A row of curses left Johnny’s lips when he could watch his dick slide in and out of you again and he gripped your thighs so hard you were sure you’d have bruises there tomorrow. But that was something you’d worry about later, right now your world was only made up of the handsome man with his huge cock that was currently rearranging your guts with how vigorously he was snapping his hips, making your skin slap together with lewd sounds.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Johnny grunted, his hips losing their rhythm. “On me,” you managed to choke out, still lost in your own pleasure. Another groan left his bitten lips before he quickly pulled out and ripped the condom off, jerking his cock with quick strokes, his eyes fixed to yours. All it took was a couple of jerks before he threw his head back and you could see his abdominal muscles contract before the first burst of white hot cum spurted from his dick and covered your chest and stomach. With parted lips he stroked himself through his orgasm, milking rope after rope from his cock until he hissed with overstimulation. “Fuck,” he cursed before giggling when he saw the mess he had made of you, his cum dripping from your boobs and running down your stomach. He cursed again before claiming your lips. “You want to cum one last time, baby?” “Please Daddy,” you whined, spreading your legs further for him. “My good girl,” he sighed, sinking two fingers into your heat, quickly crooking them to stimulate your sweet spot while his thumb was putting sweet pressure on your clit, making you thrash beneath him. “You look so good covered in my cum,” he rasped before he kissed you harshly to swallow your moans and cries of pleasure. You desperately held on to his shoulders, breaking the kiss when your head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. While speeding up his fingers, Johnny began sucking bruises low on your neck and over the soft skin of your cleavage. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence because right that moment he had sucked one of your nipples into his mouth which was just enough to send you over the edge for a third time that night, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name and your thighs shaking and closing around the handsome man kneeling between them. “That’s my good girl,” he praised breathily and gently rocked his fingers to help you ride out your orgasm before he pulled them out, instead winding his strong arms around your body, holding you to his inked chest.

For a while he just held you close, not caring that his cum was now also stuck to his chest. “Fuck that was a lot,” you chuckled, burying your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent. “Not what you thought would happen when you get a free tattoo?” Johnny softly spoke, carding his hand through your messy hair. “Not at all.” Another question was burning inside your head but you were too scared to ask it. You didn’t want to push him and ruin the mood. “I should clean you up and see if that tattoo is still okay. Then we can cuddle, alright?” The tattoo artist said before he detangled your bodies from one another to get up from the bed. He looked around on the floor for a cloth and you could finally see where the cherry blossoms on his hip were coming from. A big samurai was stretched over half his back, surrounded by the pinkish blossoms. It seemed like it wasn’t a complete piece yet, the samurai staring at the still untouched skin of Johnny’s left shoulderblade. “Your back tattoo is really pretty,” you mumbled to fill the silence while Johnny was wiping his chest clean before he gently did the same to you, taking extra caution when looking at your still fresh tattoo. “Thank you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead, the metal of his piercing feeling warm on your skin, “We should change that foil real quick.” You just nodded and let him do his work, exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Do you do this with all your clients?” Shit. You hadn’t meant to ask that, the question had just slipped your lips and you could feel Johnny freeze where he was dressing your tattoo again before he secured the last piece of tape. He sighed and slipped beneath the covers, pulling you against his chest, so you could listen to his heartbeat. “Not all of them,” he answered eventually, “I haven’t slept with a client in a while. It happens sometimes but usually I don’t think much about it.” “And now you do?” He just hummed nonchalantly, playing with your hair. “They usually don’t come back after I fuck them.” He paused, holding his breath. “Will you come back?” Your heart started to race and you could feel a bright smile spreading over your lips. “For more free tattoos and piercings?” “Oh, yeah, I guess,” he sounded so deflated, the confident tattoo artist suddenly gone. “You idiot,” you giggled, pillowing your head on his sternum so he could see the smile on your lips, “I like you Johnny. I’ll come back if you want me to.” Now he was also smiling, his features softening. “Don’t make jokes like that, my heart is fragile,” he joked, wrapping you up in his strong arms.  

“Which one was your first one?” You asked him when the silence between you stretched while you traced the scales of the dragon that wound around his arm. “My first tattoo?” Johnny shifted around for a while before he showed you his other arm that had all kinds of different designs on it, some in bright colors, some strictly black. “That little guy over here,” he said with a smile on his lips and pointed to a little sunflower at the bend of his elbow, “To remind me to always look at the sun, at the bright side of life.” “It’s cute,” you breathed, touching the yellow petals. “And then it went downhill from there,” he chuckled, “It’s addicting.” “Let’s hope I can stay abstinent.” “What a shame, I’d love to cover you in my art,” Johnny confessed, tilting your face up so he could claim your lips in a kiss. “Maybe one or two more,” you breathed in between kisses, making him chuckle against your lips.

[kommunistkaitou]

meme image source

hello my carrd has been broken for awhile now so im converting my pinned post to a temporary substitute

JJ, age 26

nb trans guy (he/they)

usamerican

white jew (from mixed-faith family)

obviously autistic (among other things) & invisibly physically disabled

bisexual

marxist-leninist

interests/likes:

guinea pigs

anime (icon/url are from detective conan&magic kaito)

fiber/textile arts

vocaloid (esp. evillious chronicles)

video games (especially mystery/puzzle VNs)

sci-fi (ranging from obscure web serials to classic novels to star wars etc)

medical stuff (both human and veterinary)

ceramics/pottery/sculpture

dni: terfs, truscum, fash, zionist, transandrophobia truthers, or ppl who regularly interact w/them including picking fights. this is a matter of safety for myself and the ppl i reblog from, i dont want shitheads following you over here

stuff you should know if you follow me:

im a phlebotomist (person who draws blood) ive recently quit my job and re-enrolled in school but im planning to go back part-time at some point. posts about work will often talk about medical stuff, blood, and needles, and are all tagged as #hospital tag. if you dont want to see that i encourage you to filter out that tag.

i do not softblock ever. if you unfollowed me and dont remember doing so, but you can still see and interact w/my posts, it was definitely a glitch and you're free to come back anytime

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Fem!Stark!Reader) -- part three

I did not expect to get so invested in this damn fic but here I am :))

Summary: The one in which Tony invites you to the “family dinner” but you sleep through it. Also, the “Father Test,” as Tony calls it.

Warnings: angst (what’s new?), talk of food/eating (so sorry, I should’ve tagged this a lot sooner!), medical stuffs (needles, blood being drawn)

A few hours pass by slowly as you doze, floating in between sleep and consciousness, both places completely unsoothing to you.

You wake abruptly when FRIDAY’s voice echoes throughout the room. “Do Not Disturb overridden by Tony Stark.”

With a groan, you sit up, listening to Tony knock — though surprised that he even does.

“Come in,” you sigh.

The door swings open and Tony opens his mouth to speak, but stops when he sees you on the floor. “What…” He glances between you and the bed, giving you an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with the perfectly new bed I gave you?”

“The least of your concerns should be that I’m taking a nap on the floor,” you deadpan. “What do you want?”

“Dinner will be ready in a few,” he says, still looking at you all concerned. “We have a family dinner once a week to...build rapport.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He continues. “You live here now, so...you’re invited. Wanda and Pepper will be there. Bucky, too.” Tony pauses. “Bucky didn’t bother you earlier, did he?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, good.”

“You bothered me, Tony.”

“Right,” Tony nods. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have brought that stuff up. I should’ve just been happy that you’re okay.” He pauses again, like he’s having trouble putting all the words together. “I am, by the way. Glad you’re okay. I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Thanks,” you say slowly. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tony offers a half-smile, half-grimace, because what you don’t know is that he has FRIDAY currently working on a full, extensive background check on your mom. And you, but your mom is top priority. Ever since the conversation in MedBay earlier, he’s been worried. For your safety — both past, present, and future. But he’s also worried about who you really are — and the worst worry of all is that you might not even know.

“Anyway, dinner in a few,” he says. “Nothing fancy. Come as you are, all that bullshit.”

You snicker at his reference.

He tries not to think of it as too much of a win. “Oh and,” he points to the bed, “it really is new. No one’s slept in it before you. And you can adjust the settings on it — softness, heating, cooling, all that. Just,” he pauses again. “FRIDAY, will you show Y/N the control panel?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Your eyes widen when a hologram appears next to the bed, projected onto the wall. There, all the settings — and many more — that Tony mentioned are shown.

“When you get it set where you like, FRIDAY can save it for you,” he explains. “Just for whenever you feel like sleeping in a bed again. I guess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, looking over at him. “Really, thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, munchkin.” He smiles fully this time as he leaves, closing your door. And to your surprise, he activates Do Not Disturb again.

Food is the last thing on your mind, so instead you head over to the hologram on the wall.

You spend the next hour and a half fixing the settings. Once you get it just right, though, you lie down and you sleep.

Soundly. For five hours.

+++

When you wake again, you’re confused and disoriented to find yourself sleeping in a bed. But you love that your back, shoulders, and hips aren’t screaming in pain for once.

One glance out the window tells you that you’ve definitely missed the dinner Tony invited you to, but you don’t care all that much. You’ve met everyone individually. You didn’t really need or want to go to a big dinner. It seemed pointless.

But, unfortunately, you are hungry, so you drag yourself out of bed to go to the kitchen in search of something resembling food.

One glance at the clock in the hall tells you it’s just past midnight, so you relax even more, knowing you won’t encounter anyone.

Or at least, you hoped.

There, leaned against the kitchen counter, straight up guzzling a glass of water, is Bucky.

At least it’s him, you think.

Bucky smiles gently when he sees you coming. “Hey.”

You offer a slight nod and a quiet “Hey” in return, going straight to the fridge.

“Oh, the plate in there is yours,” he says. “Top shelf.”

You look up and spot it, your eyes widening as you grab it. Did they eat monstrous portions here or something? It must weigh five pounds or something crazy.

As if reading your mind, Bucky says, “Sorry there’s so much. I think Tony went overboard.”

You blink down at the food. Tony made you a plate? You expected Pepper to do it, if anyone. Quite frankly, you weren’t expecting it at all. You figured they wouldn’t even notice your absence.

Bucky wordlessly steps to the side, giving you access to the microwave. It even looks expensive, which makes you snort. It’s touchscreen. Of-fucking-course.

“We missed you at dinner,” Bucky says. You didn’t know he liked to talk this much.

“I fell asleep,” you confess with a laugh. “Tony uh, showed me the controls for the bed.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “No more sleeping on the floor for you, then?”

You shrug.

“I sleep on the floor most nights, too,” Bucky continues, taking in a deep breath. “It’s just…”

“Normal,” you finish quietly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It feels normal.”

You turn back to the microwave, opening the door a second before it beeps. The food is warm enough now, you guess. Where the hell are the forks, though?

After opening two drawers, Bucky realizes what you’re looking for. “Here.” He opens the drawer across from you and pulls out a fork.

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him. “Night.”

He nods and gives a slight wave. “Night.”

+++

The next day, Pepper stops by your room with a ton of clothes, shoes, and a phone.

“Uhm, thanks…”

“I know it’s a lot,” she smiles gently. “And if you don’t like anything, just let me know. Or if I didn’t get anything that you need, let me know, too.” She pauses. “You don’t have to do it now.”

“Okay,” you sigh, trying not to feel overwhelmed, but it’s hard. There’s like...fifteen bags on your bed right now. Not to mention the boxes of shoes that are stacked on the floor. And the new phone, still in the box, that you’re holding in your hand.

Pepper points to the phone. “It should have my number, Tony’s number, and the rest of the Avengers programmed in there. You’ll see one named Happy, that’s just Tony’s assistant, just in case. You don’t have to talk to everyone on there, but they do have your number as well. It’s all a precautionary thing. Oh, and the phone can be tracked.” She pauses, lowering her voice. “Just a heads up. In case Tony goes crazy.”

You smile at that. “Thanks.” As if he hasn’t already gone crazy and driven you closer to insanity, too.

“Speaking of Tony,” she says. “He’s willing to do the paternity test whenever you are.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Is today good?”

Pepper blinks. “I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, just...I’ll put some clothes on first.” You’re still wearing what Wanda gave you.

“Yeah, of course,” she nods. “I’ll let Tony know and whenever you’re ready, you can just ask FRIDAY to take you to the lab.”

“Okay.”

Pepper leaves you be, while you get dressed, and it takes you a lot longer than you were expecting.

There are so many clothes.

After finding something somewhat comfortable (and because you’re tired of looking through the bags), you grab your phone, though it feels foreign having it in your pocket.

“FRIDAY...where is the lab?”

“If you head to the elevator, I’ll take you there.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

Following FRIDAY’s orders, you head to the elevator and step inside. The doors close and the elevator begins to move, and when it stops, the doors behind you open.

“Welcome to Mr. Stark’s lab.”

Hesitantly, you step off, and you’re met with blaring music.

“Really?” You scream, and Tony lifts his head. “AC/DC? Really?”

The volume lowers a little while Tony replies. “You know your music. I’m impressed.”

“I’m disappointed,” you say. “I prefer Pink Floyd.”

Tony smirks. ‘Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2’ begins to play. You hate that you grin, but you do.

“Much better,” you comment. “Pepper told me to come here?”

He nods. “Right, the Father Test.”

You snort. Of course he calls it that.

“We’ll have to head down to MedBay to do it. I’ll be done in just a second.” He taps something on the screen before looking back up. “Did Pepper give you your phone?”

“Yeah.” You pull the device from your pocket and wave it. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded without a phone,” Tony replies. “Also, just for the foreseeable future, don’t leave the Tower without someone. Preferably without me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. You hadn’t thought about leaving and going anywhere until now. “Why?”

“Well, for one, you have an arrest warrant,” he reminds you. “They won’t question it if I’m with you. Which is why it needs to be me — Steve is also fine. But, let’s say, if you left with Bucky, they wouldn’t hesitate to grab both of you.”

“Wasn’t he pardoned or something?”

“Doesn’t mean no one holds a grudge against him.”

You nod. “Right.” Then, you reel back. “So you’re not going to turn me in?”

He shrugs. “I believe you. Even though you won’t tell me who stabbed you.” He taps something else, then drags the screen, and a hologram appears right in front of him.

You roll your eyes. “Because I don’t know who they were. I told you.”

“And I still think you’re lying,” he retorts.

You glare at him through the hologram.

A few more minutes pass where all that fills the silence is Pink Floyd. You’re not complaining, but even Tony’s breathing is grating to your ears.

Once he’s finally finished with whatever the hell he was doing, he heads to the elevator, and you silently follow him.

+++

This time when you enter MedBay, it’s empty, aside from the on-site doctor, Dr. Cho.

“Here for the Father Test,” Tony quips, smirking when Dr. Cho rolls her eyes at him.

You like Dr. Cho already.

“Alright,” she says, putting a pause on what she was doing. “It’s just a simple cheek swab and a little blood.”

“Blood?” You ask. You hate having your blood drawn. Not because of the needle, but because of the idea of your blood being drawn out of your body and used for things you’re unaware of.

It’s creepy.

“Just a small amount,” Dr. Cho assures you with a soft smile. “It acts as a double-check for the paternity test. The cheek swab can give us a general yes or no, but blood is definitive.”

You agree, you just hate it.

First is the cheek swab and Dr. Cho lets you do it, probably sensing your anxiety. She refuses to let Tony do his on his own, but that probably has something to do with how much of a child he is.

Tony gets his blood drawn first, and it is too short for your liking, because once he’s done, Dr. Cho preps you.

Your head is turned the other way while she wipes your skin. Tony moves into your line of vision, and you’re ready to tell him to fuck off before he teases you, but he doesn’t.

He just talks to you.

“Barnes told me you fell asleep yesterday.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yeah. That’s why I missed dinner. He said you made a plate for me?”

“I did,” Tony nods. “I didn’t want you to go hungry.”

“I could tell,” you snort. “There was enough food on the plate to feed four of me.”

He chuckles. “Did you at least eat?”

“Yeah, I did,” you say. “It was good.”

“Good. How’s the bed?”

“Really good,” you say. “Thanks for showing me the controls and stuff.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “Nat asked me earlier if you’d like to train with her and Wanda.”

“Train?”

“Yeah, train, workout, whatever you want to call it. Barnes and Rogers usually run if that’s more your speed, Wilson, too, when he’s here.”

“Who’s Wilson?”

“Sam,” Tony fills in. “Falcon.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“He’s in...Louisiana right now, but he should be back here in a few days, so you’ll meet him.” He pauses. “But...stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“He’s...flirty.”

You nearly wheeze. “Are you joking?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “I’ve been meaning to say that about Barnes, too. I don’t care if you talk to him. I think it’s good for him — and you. But don’t…” He waves his hands in an ambiguous manner.

“Tony, the absolute last thing on my mind right now is a boyfriend, but even if it was, why would you have any say in it?” You counter.

“Because I know them, and I don’t want them anywhere near you,” he says, like that’s the end of it. “All done, Dr. Cho?”

“All done,” she confirms, and that’s when you feel her pressing a Band-Aid over your skin.

Your head whips around. You didn’t even feel the needle go in or out. What the fuck?

You look back at Tony with a small smile. “Well played.”

“You’re welcome,” he smirks. “Though, I wasn’t kidding.”

You roll your eyes. “Not even Nat or Wanda?”

He looks surprised, but still shakes his head. “Still no.”

“Darn. My plans have been foiled.”

This time when he looks at you, he smiles.

As the two of you are walking to the elevator, he says, “Want to help me in the lab? I’ll let you control the music — just this once.”

You almost say yes, but you’re not really in the mood. “No, thanks though. I really should go through all the clothes Pepper brought me.”

“Ah, right,” he nods. “She told me she went shopping.”

“Yeah…” You exhale. “She went.”

You step onto the elevator after him, and he presses the floors for you and the lab.

“You know, Wanda might help you sort through the clothes if you ask. She might wear whatever you don’t want.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll ask.”

“She’s training right now, though.”

You nod. “Okay. It can wait, I guess.”

Tony rocks on his heels. “I could really use an extra set of hands…”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

He grins. “You still want to control the music?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you play AC/DC the whole time.”

[mosswillow]

Iced Coffee - Dark!Stephen Strange x Reader.

Summary:

You met Stephen Strange your last year of medical school. He was godlike and you were infatuated. You liked him and in return he humiliated you. Years later you were over it; made a career for yourself.

He saw you again, remembered you, wanted you. He was going to show you that he had changed, win you over. You would be his and he would protect you forever, he just had to prove himself.

Series Warnings:

18+ adult content, Dark, Rape/noncon, obsessive behavior, stalking, doctor/medical themes, mild/moderate doctor kink, needles (chapter one, not sex related), violence, abuse, kidnapping, forced marriage, smut, escape attempt, dirty talk (my best attempt at least).

Potential warnings, a non-exhaustive list: Oral, praise kink, mild degradation (Will not include whore or slut)  

You can join the tag list here. 

A/N: Now that I’ve been writing for a few months I’m experimenting with different styles. If you’ve read my other stuff lmk what you think (ask, comment, message, whatever.)

Thank you to the unnamed requester and @couldntbedamned​ for this request. 🖤

By Clicking keep reading you confirm that you are over 18 and understand that this content is mature and potentially triggering. 

CHAPTER 1

Stephen was the most brilliant man you had ever met. School was a joke to him, he easily outperformed everyone no matter the subject. He was confident, lived his life with this air of superiority, and you were obsessed. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, sat next to him in class, helped him when he asked. He was nice to you too, he was an asshole almost all the time but when he talked to you it was gentle, respectful.

It was October third when it happened, the date would forever be burned in your memory. He turned to you and asked you the date.

“It’s october third,” you smiled.    

He thanked you and touched his hand to your arm and you felt a spark, you were sure he felt it too.

But he didn’t feel it, you were so very wrong.

You found out just how wrong you were that evening in the worst possible way. It was so unexpected, so hurtful. You walked into the small coffee shop you and your friends frequented and saw them all in the corner, socializing. A stab of pain struck you in the chest; nobody invited you. Maybe you should have backed away, recognized you weren’t wanted but you heard your name. You thought they had seen you, called you over.

They hadn’t seen you though, weren’t talking to you.

They were talking about you.

“Poor thing, thinks she has a chance with me,” you heard Stephen laugh.

You walked behind him, tears welling in your eyes and someone nudged him awkwardly. He looked up and made eye contact with you. A tear fell down your face as you backed away from the group. It was like a nightmare, like looking down and seeing you were naked, but this wasn’t a dream. It was horrifyingly real.

“Pathetic,” you heard him say to the laughing group of people you called friends.

It broke you.

You spent the remainder of your time in school avoiding him and every friend who had been there. You poured yourself into your studies and came out of it stronger than before, like a phoenix being reborn - You were brand new, beautiful, powerful.

You became a doctor and scientist and a damned good one at that. But Stephen was always better. Every conference, every medical magazine, he was there; always at the top. You could never escape him.

Until his accident.

He was suddenly gone, you couldn't believe it. Dr. Stephen Strange, the most accomplished neurosurgeon, lost his hands. The shock wiped through the medical community, a travesty they said. It wasn’t a travesty to you though, It was almost uncomfortable how happy you were at his downfall. It felt so freeing to see the great and mighty Doctor Strange fall so far, for your bully to lose the thing that was most precious to them. He became irrelevant, dropped from magazines and conferences and disappeared without a trace. You were truly content for the first time in your life. You were free.

Stephen flexed his fingers and smiled. It was a long road to recovery but he did it, he was a neurosurgeon again and even better now. He was godlike, able to perform surgeries that he could only dream of before. He wasn’t just going to get his life back, he would flourish, go above and beyond his already impressive list of accomplishments, he would dominate.  

He walked into the conference full of confidence, an arrogant smile plastered on his face. The gasps and stares made him stand even straighter, walk with even more purpose. He always loved being the center of attention, it made him feel superior.

It was his addiction, to be special, better than everyone around him. The craving for greatness was a consequence of his birthright. He needed to be better because he was better. His brain was like a radiant flame, he shined brighter than everyone around him and he knew it.  

“Stephen, good to see you,” a group of colleagues surrounded him, patting him on the back. He felt at home, this was where he belonged.

The auditorium started filling and he followed the group in, sitting in the back and opening his pamphlet. It wasn’t usually his type of lecture to listen to but he had time to kill before his next panel. The speaker, a specialist in infectious disease, worked at New York Hospital where he would start back on Monday. He closed his pamphlet and waited patiently for the presentation to start.

She walked onto the stage and his body tensed as he watched her prepare for her speech. Stephen’s brain was on fire, the attraction to this stranger like nothing he had ever felt. His thoughts turned less than appropriate as he stared at her ass. He saw no panty lines and couldn’t help but imagine what did or did not lie beneath the skirt's thin fabric. She wasn’t a conventionally attractive woman but that made her even more beautiful in his mind. She was perfect for him, a mix of everything he was physically attracted to in one person. Women had thrown themselves at him but he didn’t want any of them, he wanted her.

Then she started speaking and a new wave of attraction washed through him as her intelligence became apparent. Who was this woman? He rarely felt attraction like this, attraction that consumed onto his whole being. He needed to get to know her, needed to touch her, smell her hair, hold her hand. He was obsessed.

He didn’t even realize her presentation had ended until everyone started applauding. Stephen stood and clapped along. He watched her exit the stage and as he walked closer her face suddenly flashed into his memory. He knew her years ago in med school. She liked him, she followed him around like a puppy.

Excitement built as he approached her, but she gave him one look and her face fell into a grimace.

“Stephen Strange,” He held his hand out.

Her reply was cold, “We went to school together,” she spit, ignoring his outstretched hand.

“Yes, we did, didn’t we. I’m very interested in what you’re working on. Maybe we could get together, have dinner?”

“No,” she turned and walked away from him.

“Hey,” He yelled at her, but she kept walking, giving no acknowledgement of his obvious frustration.

It didn’t take him long to catch up, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder pulling her around to face him.

“What is this hostility about?” He asked.

Her body went rigid and she wrenched her shoulder out of his hand, “Poor thing, thinks she has a chance with me,” She said through gritted teeth.

He remembered in that moment what had happened, how he used her for short lived friendships.

“I’m not that person anymore, I’m sorry, let me show you,” be begged.

“You called me pathetic,” She snarled.

“It was so long ago, please.”

She stood up tall and leaned into him. “Pathetic,” she called him before walking away again.

He stood there dazed, never having been discarded so callously. He couldn't leave it like this, he would show her he had changed and she would forgive him. He was determined. He was the great Doctor Strange and he could do anything.

A sob took over your body as you read the little piece of paper. It was over, no more money for research. The conference was your last hope to find funding and you didn’t succeed. You looked at a little blue vial and picked it up. It was a bad idea, you knew it was, but this medicine could help so many people. If you didn’t try it right then you may have never known if it worked or not. You removed your jacket, swabbed your arm and filled a syringe. A tear fell down your cheek as you depressed the plunger.

It immediately started burning, beginning in your arm and flowing throughout your veins until you were screaming in pain. The room spun around and your vision started to blur. You stood and took a few shaky steps before falling to the ground and curling into a ball. Quiet whimpers escaped your lips as you struggled not to pass out from the pain.

A knock rang through your ears and you lifted your head slightly.

“Hey, it’s me,” called a voice from the other side of the door.

Stephen, of course he would show up at the worst moment possible. You were in so much pain and part of you wanted to ask for help but you couldn’t. If anyone found out you could lose your licence and Stephen was someone you were sure would turn you in.

“It’s not a good time,” you yelled.

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior, I was an asshole but I’ve changed. I really have.”

“Go Away Stephen.”

The doorknob jiggled and you held your breath. You had locked it, you were sure you had.

“Hey, I’m getting worried, open the door,” he demanded.

“I’m sad, ok, lost funding for my research. I don’t want you to see me cry. Happy? If you’ve actually changed you’ll leave!” you put your hand over your mouth to cover a groan, the exhaustion of talking having caused intense pain in your lungs.

“Oh, um, sorry to bother you,” he murmured.

You sighed in relief as the sound of his footsteps disappeared and then hugged your aching body, shivering and crying softly as excruciating pain moved around. It suddenly felt like you had been thrown in a freezer. It Was so cold, why were you so cold?

You shivered and cried on the floor for hours until sleep finally took you, giving a slight respite from the worst day of your life.

Series master list ~ Next Chapter

[sztefa001]

I posted 18,835 times in 2021

31 posts created (0%)

18804 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 606.6 posts.

I added 932 tags in 2021

#yes - 190 posts

#important - 158 posts

#sztefu talks - 126 posts

#sztefu talks in tags - 110 posts

#xd - 100 posts

#transformers ideas - 56 posts

#humanformers - 55 posts

#amazing - 53 posts

#bby - 42 posts

#awww - 42 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#when i was 21-23 i started watching mlp and princess sofia the 1st and wonder over yonder and rewatched tabaluga and the aristocats movie an

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

A silly thing for our OCs, but who would be the best behaved in the Doctor's to the worst. (Like regular checkups, nothing too bad.)

SDKFGHSDKFJ OKAY LET'S GOO

Morphine - as a medic himself and being dead inside he really doesn't care what's being done to him. Easiest to deal with. You could tell him he needs a surgery and he'd just shrug like ok whatever, now or do I have to come later?

Renfrew and Breeze - good and unproblematic babs. Don't like needles and painful stuff but won't show it (may complain a bit with Breeze may try being a bit flirty to lighten up the mood). It's no big deal but they do appreciate hugs afterwards.

MiniMint - she's fine, real good bean, deserves a sticker. If there are needles involved it will make her uncomfortable but she knows how to behave. Feels best if she's held tho 'cuz she's afraid she'll involountarily twitch and make things worse. But dw, that never happens. Probably won't ask for it but really appreciates some sweets afterwards. Get her some enerjuice or enerjellies. Distracting her withmaking her nerd out about rocket science will make her forget about any unpleasanties just as well.

Taffy - uhh are we talking before or after the trauma?

Before - he's flirty. Good bab, maybe a bit annoying if you have low tolerance for flirty goofballs. Theatrical drama queen when there's needles involved. Tries to cover up how much he doesn't want it. He's gonna need help calming down. It's not that he'd escape but he needs to be held for comfort. Panics more than it's worth. Afterwards needs to be taken for ice cream or else will sulk for the rest of the day like an offended princess.

After - needs his trinemates to hold him. Preferably restrained in a blanket burrito 'cuz he really doesn't like to be touched. Even for the slightest checkup he needs to be held close and softly talked to. And it's not even being a drama queen about it, the distress is real. Good thing at-home checkups are a thing 'cuz the poor bean wants to avoid any contact with anyone other that his trinemates and close friends. Good thing he has 2 medics among his frind group. Luckily eventually he improves to the point of being like before or even like Mini.

TerrorRain - will complain and be a bitch 'cuz he doesn't need no check ups. Will refuse to have stuff done to him, may need to be dragged in by someone strong enough even if it's just a check up. Doesn't fear needles but will not follow doctor's recommendations unless it later ends with shit going badly and him thinking "Uhh... I... probably should've listened." Much better chances of getting him to cooperate if the medic in charge is not Morphine. They're gonna be extra jerks to one another.

StrongSpark - he's a child of special needs. Can't understand what and why is happening around him and being blind surely doesn't help. Sure he spends a lot time at hospitals but that doesn't make him any less distressed or more used to it. The same procedures that normally take just a while stretch into hours as he needs a lot of preparations and comforting. And often some sedatives when he gets muscle contracture malfunction out of stress. Requires the most time of all listed here but is also most innocent. Sparky is the only bot Morphine has so much unending patience for. He gets lots of love from both his parents (yes, even Terry and Morph are capable of love). Years later he improves and manages to understand that the pain is usually temporal and just letting it happen will result in less of it. Oh and also he learns to talk a bit!

9 notes • Posted 2021-08-18 22:06:15 GMT

#4

Now that it is canon that Starscream is the queen in chess, you know what that means?! WE CAN DRAW HIM IN FANCY QUEEN OUTFITS!

Well I can't draw bots for shi so have this shitty ms paint doodle:

15 notes • Posted 2021-08-14 19:14:45 GMT

#3

SRFTADSFGSWKJFHFJSD @cirilee LISTEN-

25 notes • Posted 2021-07-16 10:19:52 GMT

#2

I GOTTA TELL YOU, IVE BEEN READING ABOUT YOUR FICLET IN YOUR TAGS AND IM SO HYPED whoops ok stop it with the tags,caro, thats too much

ANYWAYS OMG !! i cant wait holy moly !! if you want a beta reader or anything else i gladly volunteer i'm so EXCITED

I'M EXCIDED TOO I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS AAAAAAA >w<

I mean there's no way I can write them all in a form of fics but I'm defo gonna make a post or two summarizing them. And I don't think this would be possible without @president-alpine who not only got me into the fandom but also spams ideas with me daily in dms :D (SAY HI ALPS!)

Anyway here's what I have for now:

StarJack, humanformers au, post-war, established relationship, comfort, fluff, old habits die hard

See the full post

47 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 21:19:54 GMT

#1

Help

I put on some shanties to listen to while trying to draw pirate KO but the shanties are so good and fun I instead started daydreaming about the crew having fun on the deck and singing and dancing and I can't focus on drawing for shi-

118 notes • Posted 2021-07-11 20:21:50 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ F*CKING HIGH ❜

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hey! Maybe prompt 52. When Creeper get shot and Mayans don't know reader but when hé was high on medication he call her at Vicky's House ? 🙈Something really Fluff ? Thanks!! I love ur writings 😊😊

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.6k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.

Masterlist.

The books over the table with a lot of notes scattered around them are starting to give you a horrible headache. You don't know how many hours you have been studying, but you're sure that it was daytime. When you focus your gaze on the horizon, through the window, you're aware of the streetlights turned on outside and the dark sky above Santo Padre. It's your final week to complete the MIR and you have left just one exam. The last one. So, when Creeper told you he was going to travel to Las Vegas for a couple days, you have to recognize that you felt a little alleviated. You want to spend the maximum time possible with him, but you also have to study, but both things aren't compatible. Even so, he should be at home already.

Checking the time on the clock in your wrist, you snort getting up from your chair to pick up the books and your pens. It's enough study for today and you're really hungry. After cleaning the table, you fall down on the sofa turning on the TV and looking in your phone for something to take away. Cooking it's not an option today. Choosing the local pizzeria for excellence, you're about to make the order when an incoming call interrupts your plans. Reading his name on the screen, you answer quickly.

“Babe!”

“Maaaaamaaaa”. He sings, making you frown somewhat confused sitting on the sofa. “Heeeeey, maaaamaaaa”.

“Are you… high, Neron?”

“Yeah… Fuckin' high… for you, my loooove”.

“What the hell? Where the fuck are you?”

“Mama, I want you here. I need you here, maaaama!”

“Ner—”.

“I am… close”.

“Close from what?”

“Border, mama. Close to the border. Come with meeee. I need my nurse, mama, pleaaase”.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Your heart is racing, jumping off from the sofa, running to your shared room.

“A guy shot me, mama. But don' worre', I'm okaaaay”.

“Neron, send me your location right now!”

“Mama, mama, mama, are you comen'?”

“FUCK, NERON, OF COURSE I'M COMING. SEND ME THE FUCKING LOCATION”.

“Don'... Don' shout at me, mama”.

From nowhere, you can hear him crying like a child. Even if he's high, that shit breaks your heart into pieces. Stopping next to your bed rubbing your forehead, barely gulping, you try to calm yourself.

“Are you alone?”

“N—No…”

“The bul—”.

“It's out, mama… I wan—want you here with me. I'm okay, mama, I'm okay… Come with me. Don'... leave me, don' break with me, mama, please”.

“Send me your location, okay? Could you do that for me?”

“Yeah, mama… Are you comen'?”

“Sí, Neron, I'm gonna get dressed, okay?”

“Okay, mama… I love you. I love you, mama. I truly love you, I swear”.

“I know, mi flaquito”.

Hanging up the call, you take some second to breathe calmly before looking for some clothes to put on and grabbing the medical kit when you're ready. They better have something to eat, or there will be more than one man shot. Leaving your house, your phone rings with a notification. The address of Vicki's house. You have heard about it, and you're not surprised at all. According to your boyfriend, this is the favorite place of Mayans. You don't know them, not yet, but you can imagine why they like it this much. Keeping the kit on the back seat, you step in your car turning the engine to follow the instructions recited by the gps.

When it says that you have reached your destiny, you focus through the Camaro's front window to find the house, looking exactly as he described you one day. Going out of the pilot seat and carrying the medical stuff in your right hand, you go upstairs practically jumping them to hit the door with your palm. A girl with brown hair, big eyes and almost naked welcomes you, pushing her by a side before she can talk.

“Hey, hey! Wait! You ca—”.

Coming into the living room, you finally meet his other family. They were drinking and laughing until you appeared, now staring at you confused. The one who you recognize as El Presidente gets up from his chair, the other two are pointing at you with their guns, warned by the bitch behind you.

“I'm from Tijuana, you can't scare me con una pistolita”. (With a gun). You spit with a strong mexican accent, containing a sarcastic laugh.

“Who are y—”.

“MAAAMI, MAAAAMIIIIIIII”.

Hearing your boyfriend calling you, you don't give them a single chance to let you introduce yourself, running upstairs following the laments of Creeper between moans and pleased begs. Disgusting. Opening the last green red door, you finally reach him. The medical kit falls from your hand shocked. Taking a step, you tour his silhouette lying on the mattress. Being shirtless you can see the bandage covering the bullet hole, with some blood trespassing the cotton, and the sling holding the other. His face isn't much better, with some scratches on his left cheek and his temple. The most disturbing is watching him crying like a scared child, trembling and trying to sit up on the bed.

Before the other mexicans can reach you, you're already kneeling on the bed not knowing where you're allowed to touch him and where not.

“Mami, I missed you”.

“You're an idiot, you know it, rai'?” You ask him with your eyes filled with tears, gently caressing the other cheek, while he nods.

Leaning forward you kiss his shaky lips once and again, before feeling his right arm surrounding your waist.

“Let me see the shot, okay?” Whispering, you get up from the bed to take the medical kit, under the look of the men waiting on the door.

“The doctor put it out, disinfected the wound and stitched it up”. El Presidente says, making you frown your eyebrows.

“The doctor, or the vet?”

“Wha—”.

“Answer before I fucking punch you”.

“The vet”.

Of course, it's not the same. Even the medicines that give you in the MIR are stronger than the ones for a veterinarian. Opening the kit over the bed and wearing a pair of blue gloves, you lean on Creeper to take off the bandage and the gauze, narrowing your eyes to see every stitch on it. It's… acceptable, but you could have done it better. Wetting some cotton with iodine, you clean the blood around the suture with soft moves to not hurt him more. Your boyfriend is assorted on how concentrate you look taking care of him.

“Do you know what you are doing, niña?” The oldest one rests his body against the frame.

“'Amma real doctor, not a veterinarian”. You respond without turning at him, but at your kit to find clean gauzes and an adhesive bandage to cover the sewn hole again. “What happened with the other, Neron?”

“Dislocated”. He just says gulping with parted lips.

“What did they gave you for the pain?”

“Just some pills, mami…”

“How many hours ago?”

“Almost ten”. El Presidente replies in his place, making you twist towards him.

“Okay, Creep', I'm going to prick you some morphine”. He just nods.

Grabbing a needle wrapped on a security plastic, you open it to fill it up with the transparent liquid from a small glass bottle. Hitting it softly with two fingers and letting some of the medicine spill on air, you lead the needle to his bare skin over the wound. Nailing it slowly until the metallic part has disappeared inside it. Then, you push the plastic container until empty. Taking off the needle and keeping it again inside its paper, to throw it later, you close the medical kit.

“You need to rest, okay?”

“Mami, stay with me, please… Don' go”. He begs you crying low and holding your hand as strong as he can.

“You need to rest”. You repeat raising both eyebrows and nodding with your chin one time, caressing his grip with your fingers. “I will talk with your friends for a moment. Ain't going anywhere, mi flaquito. Not without you”.

“I love you, mama. I really do”.

“I love you too, Creep'”. Smirking at your boyfriend, you kiss him again having a little more of caring to not hurt him. “Sleep, flaquito”.

Placing the medical kit over a desk, you leave him closing the door, killing with your eyes the men in front of you.

“I'm hungry, so you better find me some dinner”.

“First, tell us who you are, because he's high enough to confuse himself and believe that he's the fucking Messiah”.

“I'm his girlfriend, pendejo. And you're gonna be a dead man if you don't bring me my fucking dinner”.

El Presidente chuckles rubbing his chin, before nodding, seeing you disappear through the opened door again. Coming back to the bed, you can notice that your boyfriend isn't crying anymore, smiling like an idiot. Sighing you lie down by his side, wrapping his body with both arms, letting him find a comfortable posture under them. You can feel his lips kissing your right forearm somewhat sleepy, purring like a cat. Definitely, he's too high.

“Mami, I love you…” He whispers when you begin to caress his neck with your fingertips. “You are the love of my life…”

“Yeah, you already said it… like a lot of times”. You laugh softly, turning towards you with a soft grimace of pain on his face.

“Love you it's my favorite thing”. He mumbles stunned because of the smile on your lips.

“Mine too, babe. I love you more than anything”.

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[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.23)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Commence Procedure (HawksxGN!Reader)

From Cindy: This chapter is almost twice the length of the others and I apologize for that. I also apologize for the lack of Hawks. I’m planning on focusing the entire next chapter on him and the reader though, so look forward to that!

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

⚠️ This chapter mentions medical stuff like needles and seizures

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

“Today is the big day!” Dr. Garaki announces the next time you’re in the lab. Thankfully, Shigaraki hadn’t made a move to kill you when you arrived, so you assumed the meeting with the Hero Commission had been a success and that nobody knew you had divulged so much sensitive information about the doctor’s plan to them. “Shigaraki, are you excited?”

“Let’s just get started already,” the villain groans impatiently. “I’ll be excited once this is all over and all the heroes are dead.”

“Actually, I’m a little concerned about something,” you speak up before things could progress any further. The doctor hadn’t given you any prior warning that Shigaraki’s procedure would begin that day, but you weren’t surprised. He’d probably kept the exact date from you on purpose as a safety precaution.

“Oh?” Garaki eyes you curiously, “What is it?”

“I’d rather talk to you about it in private,” you admit while glancing warily over at Shigaraki, who predictably began to throw a fit. His red eyes, which were filled with suspicion, bore into you as if he believed intimidation alone would be enough to get you to confess to plotting something behind his back. Luckily for him though, your business with the doctor had nothing to do with schemes to do him any harm.

“It’ll only take a minute,” you add the promise just to try and put the villain at ease.

“All right,” The doctor nods. “I have to check on the high-ends anyway, so you can come with me and tell me once we’re in there.” Shigaraki lets out a sigh of annoyance, but the situation couldn’t have gone any better for you. If the doctor was allowing you to accompany him into the second lab, it would give you the chance to get another look at the nomus. You knew that any information you could pass along about the high-ends would be appreciated by the Hero Commission.

You and the doctor made some small talk as you walk through the dimly lit tunnel, taking care not to trip or step on any of the tangled up tubes and wires lining the floor, walls, and ceiling. The place used to creep you out a bit, but nothing really compared to the unease of working under the watchful eyes of Shigaraki. Once you arrive in the second lab and the door is securely shut behind you, Dr. Garaki finally turns the conversation to business.

“I wanted to let you know that the Hero Commission finally gave me permission to see the high-end from the Kyushu incident,” you tell him even though he should already know. Hawks had been present for the conversation for the very purpose of having the villains listen in. Of course, you hadn’t really gone to the Commission’s lab that day, but the president had still begrudgingly released the information they’d gathered on the nomu so that you’d be able to make the story more believable when talking to the doctor.

“Really?” The doctor pretends to be surprised. He looks at you curiously before beginning the walk through the giant liquid filled glass chambers where the high-ends sat dormant. You weighed the pros and cons of activating your quirk to record as many details of the room as you could in your mind for the Hero Commission. The doctor knew the exact length of time you could use your quirk though, so if he asked you to use it today and you were missing a minute or two he would certainly start asking questions.

“That high-end was killed by Endeavor’s flames,” you say. “Its body was burnt to a crisp from the inside out, but didn’t that nomu have a regenerative quirk?”

“That’s right,” The doctor nods before setting to work running some diagnostics from his computer. When the screen lights up with valuable information about each nomu, you know you have to risk using your quirk. You had no idea what small tidbit might mean the difference between a hero living or dying.

“I’m just a little worried,” you admit. “If that high-end wasn’t able to heal fast enough to keep up with the damage it sustained from Endeavor’s flames, there’s no way to be sure that Shigaraki won’t have the same problem.” The doctor glances over his shoulder at you to show you’d caught his interest, so you continue.

“Sure,” you shrug while trying not to make it obvious you were looking at his computer. “All for one’s quirk might be stronger overall because we’re using a living host with DNA fused much more completely than the nomus, but that still doesn’t mean Shigaraki can’t get overwhelmed.” You take the chance to glance around at the high-ends. Even knowing the build of their bodies could give insight to what they were capable of.

“We don’t even know if Shigaraki’s DNA samples ever stopped needing to regenerate either,” you continue your speech. “We just know that the rate of regeneration reached an equilibrium. If Shigaraki’s DNA isn’t truly fused, and it’s just in a constant state of regeneration, his whole body might start to break down the moment he’s in any kind of physical distress.”

Dr. Garaki turns to give you his complete attention after that. “Are you trying to get me to delay Shigaraki’s procedure?”

“No,” you give your answer confidently because it was the truth. “It’s been made quite clear that we don’t have the luxury of having more time for testing. I just didn’t want to jump head first into this thing without all possible outcomes being laid out on the table. This procedure is meant to give Shigaraki more power, but it could very well backfire and make him completely defenseless.”

“I didn’t know you cared that much about Shigaraki,” the smile on the doctor’s face looked a bit more manic than you were used to. Surely he didn’t think you were actually starting to sympathize with the villain’s cause?

“I don’t,” you tell him bluntly. “Not really. At least, I don’t care about him any more or less than I would anyone else. I just want both of you to have a fair warning. You are more reasonable than he is though, which is why I’m telling you first.”

“Shigaraki can be rather melodramatic at times,” The doctor concedes. “You don’t have to worry about him though. Even if his body won’t hold up well in a fight, it’ll still be an advantage for him to have All For One’s quirk at his disposal.” The ominous smile on Dr. Garaki’s face intensifies. “Besides, Shigaraki will never be defenseless. He has plenty of resources to rely on for protection, the high-ends just being one of them.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” You say while finally deactivating your quirk. You were reaching your limit even after the boost you’d gained from eating a handful of almonds with your breakfast that morning. “That makes me feel a little better I guess.”

Of course, you didn’t really feel better. You knew the resources the doctor was referring to. Shigaraki had more than just the high-end nomus and the massive army of civilian soldiers that had rallied behind him. He also had a fiercely loyal follower with some sort of monster quirk that the Hero Commission still had no real specific information about. All they knew was that this guy was huge and strong. Hawks had actually seen him a few times during the time he spent working with the villains. The rumor was that the giant man could sleep for ridiculous amounts of time, and only ever acted on direct orders from Shigaraki. He sounded terrifying and you really hoped the heroes could find a way to take down the league without ever needing to get into a confrontation with the giant villain.

“Let’s keep your concerns about the procedure to ourselves though,” Dr. Garaki shuts down his computer and gestures for you to follow him back to the main lab. “There’s no reason to get Shigaraki more nervous than he already is. We’ll be able to monitor his condition once the procedure commences, and we can make alterations as needed.”

“All right,” you agree to his decision while heading back to where Shigaraki was waiting for both of you to return.

“That was much longer than a minute,” the leader of the villains snaps once you emerge from behind the secret panel that hid the tunnel.

“I apologize,” The doctor tells him with his normal smile back in place. “You won’t need to wait a moment more though. Let’s get you set up and comfortable so we can get begin the procedure.”

Shigaraki made a stink for a moment about wanting to know what you’d needed to talk about behind his back, but the doctor managed to placate him with some random excuses. After Shigaraki calmed down, you led him over to the hospital bed that had been brought down for him. You managed to get him to lay down and set up with IVs while Dr. Garaki prepared the serum.

“Are you ready for the anesthesia?” you ask Shigaraki while holding up the vial. “Once this is administered, you’re going to fall asleep really fast and we won’t be able to wake you up again until the procedure is finished.”

“Yes, I’m ready.” There was a slight hesitation in his voice, making him appear more human in your eyes for a moment. Even though you were meant be staying neutral, it still upset you to be doing such a dangerous experiment on a living person. There was a chance Shigaraki would never wake up, and even though he was already responsible for so much death and destruction, you couldn’t help but feel bad about whatever life he’d lived in the past that had brought him to this point.

“Okay,” you hand the anesthesia to the doctor since he had the proper training to handle that and you prepare yourself mentally for injecting the serum. You watch Shigaraki’s face relax and after a few seconds his eyes drift closed. Your eyes dart to the machine monitoring his vitals and everything looked normal.

“That was the easy part,” Dr. Garaki tells you before gesturing at the syringe in your hand.

“Yeah,” you let out a sigh to release some of your own tension, then shake your head before reaching out to take Shigaraki’s arm and inserting the needle. After the serum is injected, both you and the doctor wait silently for a moment to see what would happen. Things seemed okay for a moment, but then Shigaraki’s entire body started to convulse, setting off an alarm on the device monitoring his vitals.

“That’s not good,” You turn to the doctor who looked extremely concerned that things were going this poorly already.

“Get him on his side,” Dr. Garaki orders and you quickly jump into action. You put your hands under Shigaraki and roll him over as gently as possible, trying not to restrict his movement too much. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much you could do for him except wait for the episode to pass. Once the shaking stops, Shigaraki’s vitals go back to normal and you roll him back over so he’s lying flat again.

“That was a stronger reaction than we anticipated,” your eyes scan over Shigaraki’s unconscious form, suddenly wishing you had more of a medical background.

“I’d like to run a few brain scans to see if there’s anything noteworthy going on in his head that might have contributed to the seizure,” Garaki scratches at his mustache, still on edge from what happened. “Can you take a blood sample and check how the DNA merging process is going?”

“Sure,” you go to gather the supplies you need. When you get the blood sample under the microscope, you’re frustrated to see that most of the chromosomes aren’t attempting to fuse at all. The few that do move and bind together look more like that of a nomu than a person. You report the findings to the doctor right before Shigaraki’s body starts to have another violent reaction.

“At this rate, we’ll have to keep him under twenty-four hour surveillance,” The doctor had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead now. Things were not going well at all. “I still want to do those head scans though.”

“Yeah, okay,” You nod your head. “I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“I appreciate that,” Dr. Garaki says, even though you got the feeling he wouldn’t have let you leave anyway with Shigaraki in such an unstable state. Hopefully, you’d find a way to get the villain under control soon though since there was a limit on the amount of time you could keep the information from your quirk inside your mind. You had to play your role diligently though, even if it meant helping keep Shigaraki alive at the risk of losing every scrap of information you’d gathered for the Hero Commission.

It was well into the early hours of morning before Dr. Garaki finally allowed you to go home and rest. The sun had long past set and was already on the rise again as you rode the train back to your apartment. Shigaraki was still having random fits, but they seemed to be coming less often and with less intensity as before. The doctor would be able to manage without you for a little while. All you wanted to do when you finally got home was sleep, but everything you’d seen in the second lab would be gone just as soon as you closed your eyes for too long. You put on a pot of coffee, grabbed a notebook, and began to scribble down everything as fast as you could before the exhaustion inevitably took over.

[miss-smrxtiee]

-Vacationing with Distance-

Ch.4 - frustration & ice cream.

Open Heart AU

Ethan x F!Mc (Eliana Valentine)

Ch. Summary: Ethan’s trip makes its second stop and Bryce and Eliana have their first checkup. Will the baby be healthy or will Eliana’s health take a turn for the worst?

Warnings: Pregnancy, illness.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy chapter 4 of VWD! I’m really sorry it took so long I’m working a lot on new fanfictions and this got pushed back but it’s here now and I hope you enjoy! -Sol

-Masterlist- (other chapters are here!)

***

“Now Landing in San Francisco, California. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines.” The flight attendant’s voice rings out through the plane as people start collecting their things. Ethan takes his personal belongings and lays them inside his carry-on before grabbing his phone to shoot a quick text.

Ethan: Hey E, we just landed for our second stop, I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I really miss your voice. I’m gonna call you when we get checked in ❤️

Ethan lets out a frustrated sigh, she had her read replies off so he had no way of knowing if she was actually seeing his messages.

Ethan and Naveen get up out of their seats and make their way down the cramped isle. Harper had an unexpected emergency at the hospital with one of her patients who needed a surgery from her as soon as possible, so she ultimately cut her time on the trip short.

Wish I could could just leave too...

“Ethan, hurry!” Ethan heard Naveen call from the exit of the plane. Ethan runs a hand through his hair before following Naveen out.

_____———_____——-______——-____

“I’m sorry to say but, you have gestational diabetes.”

“Oh nononono” Eliana paced around the room while Bryce tried to calm her down

“Diabetes?”

The doctor nods.

Meanwhile, Eliana’s mind is running a thousand miles a second...

I’m pregnant, I’m actually pregnant! I have to get medical attention now, great. Me and Ethan had never talked about kids... I don’t even know if he wants kids! WAIT! What if he doesn’t want to have kids!?! I’m so dead. If I call him he’s gonna know...

“Eliana? Hellooo! Earth to Dr. Valentine!”

She hangs her head in defeat.

“Gestational diabetes is a very common diabetes found in pregnant women.” The doctor explained.

“Will she be okay?” Bryce asked. He didn’t know a lot of terms for pregnant women, he was a surgeon after all.

“I assure you, it’s very treatable. You do need to keep your blood sugar in check which might be the hard part.”

“Don’t tell me...” Eliana started.

She gives a sad smile and nods.

Needle pricking...

“Here is your portable machine that detects the levels of your blood sugar, you need to do this 2 to 3 times a day, preferably 10 minutes or so after a meal, but that part is not one-hundred percent necessary.”

“Meds?”

The doctor nods and hands over a prescription paper. They go over the antibiotics for treatment and eventually leave the room to schedule another appointment. They give their thanks and goodbyes and find themselves driving in complete silence a few minutes later.

“Soooo...” Bryce begins. “Eliana, you need to tell Ethan. Everyday that goes by is hurting the baby, you need to stop stressing.”

“I know.” She sighs. “I want to hold off for a few more stops on his trip. He needs to do this, and I don’t want to pull him out of it. He would be able to do so much good with making hospital alliances and discovering the newest medical treatments. I don’t want to ruin that for him or the hospital.”

Bryce agreed it would be beneficial for the hospital but at the risk of Eliana going through this whole pregnancy alone without Ethan, worried him.

I mean she had him, but he wasn’t the father, Ethan was and he deserved to know he was having a child.

The rest of the car ride is silent. Bryce didn’t completely agree with her way of thinking about everything. But it’s not his place to tell Ethan something as big as a pregnancy. That should come from Eliana.

Suddenly, Eliana’s phone lights up. She quickly hides it and he furrows his brows at her.

“E, Don’t tell me you’re ignoring Ethan...”

She doesn’t respond and he lets out a sigh. This could be very bad for both of them. Bryce gives her a death stare and she slumps her shoulders.

“I don’t know what to say without blurting out I have basically pregnancy diabetes, let alone that I’m pregnant in the first place.” She looked so vulnerable and tired in that moment, Bryce knew he had to convince her to at least call him. Baby steps. He thought.

“Can you at least call him when you get back? He’s probably worried sick by now.” He pleased and she sighed.

“I’ll do it once, I don’t know how well I’ll do with keeping the baby from him. But I’ll try.” She replied shifting lanes onto the highway.

“Thank you.” He briefly said before shifting the radio channel and Eliana’s favorite song pops up and she smiled, bopping her head to the beat of Backyard Boy.

“-Backyard boyyy, lookin’ super fine in a corduroy! Drive around the block, we can go in a loop!” She smiles while lip syncing and Bryce joined her. She exited the highway and drives down before reaching the apartment complex Bryce stayed at. He turns back to her after grabbing his things.

“Hey, please call him when you get back...” he stared intently at her and she nodded before flashing him a smile and a small wave as he turns to leave. She lets out a sigh before turning out the parking lot and making her way down the partly busy street.

She tried to put together a conversation in her head that she could use when she contacted Ethan. He knew her to well and would practically see right through her in any situation where she was stressed, sad, or angry and the conversation wouldn’t be the easiest.

Oh yeah hey Babe, yeah I just wanted to let you know that I’m pregnant and stuff heh, oh and I’m almost 2 and a half months along and have a disease to go with it because I’m not taking care of myself.. He would probably be so mad at her. She did feel bad for not returning his calls or texts,

Ugh is hopeless. she thought before shifting lanes once again and rolling into their condo a moment later. She ran her fingers through her hair and walks inside grabbing her phone from her purse.

Here goes nothing... she hits the call button on Ethan’s contact. After a few rings he picks up

“Eliana! Where have you been?! I’ve been trying to call you for the longest time!” Ethan said through the speaker.

“Hey, I’m okay, things have been really busy with patients and cases at the hospital and I’ve just been sleeping a working mostly. I really miss you though and I’m sorry I haven’t talked.” That wasn’t a lie. she thought.

“I got seriously worried! I just about called Bryce to check on you!” He sounded frustrated and her own pregnancy hormones weren’t helping the situation.

“I said I’m sorry! I’m perfectly fine, jeez.” She retorted and he let out a annoyed sigh on the other side of the line.

“Just.. ugh, text me or something when you won’t be available to talk.” His voice was tired and angry.

“What’s up with you?” She arched a brow.

“What’s up with you!” He replied, clearly reaching his breaking point. “I tried calling you ten times Eliana! And God knows how many times I texted you! The least you can do is say goodnight or good morning to let me know you are ok!”

Eliana was starting to get mad.

“I said, I was busy. Sorry I can’t devote my very breathing second to you mr. grumpy pants.” She growled back and quickly hung up before plopping down on her couch, longingly staring at the freezer which contained her secret ice cream stash. She picked up her box and took out the instructions for her needle pricking, she already knew how to do it but she wanted to be sure...

for the baby.

Ethan

He lets out a frustrated sigh as the call abruptly ends. He walks over to the bed in his hotel room, laying down on his back staring up at the ceiling, he hated being away from her. He thought something was wrong but maybe she just was really busy and tired...

Two days later...

Eliana yawned as she stepped out of her car, grabbing her bag a second later. She was headed into her morning shift at Edenbrook. She knew she needed to go on maternity leave soon because of her high stress levels in relation to work, but she couldn’t let Ethan know yet. Eliana was still frustrated with Ethan for being so overprotective, she still loved him but long distance was never a strong suit.

Bryce walks up to her as soon as she steps inside.

“Did you talk?” He asked with his brow quirked.

“Good morning to you too.” She mocks back.

“I’m serious E.”

“...yes.”

“And? Elaborate.” he requested

A sigh escaped her and she just slumped, she knew she wasn’t going to win an argument against him so why try..

“We...we got in a fight, I didn’t tell him about... ya know.” She gestured to her stomach while she spoke and Bryce just shook his head.

“You gotta do this at some point, you’re going to end up hurting you and the baby. And I know I’ve said it a million times but that doesn’t make it any less true for you. You heard what the doctor said!”

She just shook her head and balled her fists.

“I’m not going to stop Ethan from flourishing while he’s away! This is an amazing opportunity for him! I know it was last minute for us and that I need to slow down I just... I just can’t do that to him Bryce, I love him to much to be the reason he’s held back.” She looked beat, depressed, stressed...

“Well I’m absolutely not helping unless you tell him Eliana!!” Bryce was fed up himself.

“Fine! Go then!” She exclaimed, grabbing the attention of a few nurses nearby who just started whispering softly to each other before Eliana shot them a look causing them to scram.

When she turned her attention back to Bryce, he was already walking away from her with annoyance radiating off of him.

“Great..” she sighed before walking away...

***

Thank you all for reading!

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